My first live televised debate was opposite Katherine
Prescott, the national president of Mothers Against Drunk Driving. I played the
role of the bad guy.
When I got to the FOX studios, I was escorted to the “green
room,” which is basically a fancy holding cell for the show’s guests. Green room
mixers are usually congenial affairs where the more well-known talking heads (everyone
else) use the less well-known talking heads (me) as sounding boards to practice
their pitch or, more likely, to boast about their latest book.
But, given the mix of guests that morning, the mood in this particular
green room was less than convivial.
There was the aforementioned Ms. Prescott, of course; her
handler, (then) Brandy Anderson; yours truly; and quite coincidentally, political
satirist, Chris Buckley, who was there to promote “Thank You
for Smoking,” his brilliantly funny new book about lobbyists for the
alcohol, tobacco, and firearms industries who he affectionately dubbed “the Merchants
of Death.”
(Quick note: at the time, I was representing two of those
three industries. I hit the trifecta some years after that.)
To break the chilly silence in the room, Ms. Prescott asked
Chris what his book was about, and without missing a beat he pointed to me and
said, “It’s about him, actually.” It wasn’t really, but at the time there was a
lot of speculation that it was about the guy I worked for, a man so Merchant-of-Death-y
that “60 Minutes” did an entire segment on him entitled “Meet Dr.
Evil.”
(Another quick note: I’d often wondered if that exchange—and
everything else that followed—really happened as I remembered it. When I
recently asked my now dear friend Brandy if I was remembering correctly, she looked
up from her gazpacho, smiled, and said, “Ayup.”)
It was a seven-minute segment, which is a decent chunk of
time. But under the lights, time runs faster than a dingo with a baby so it’s
imperative to get your points across as quickly and effectively as possible.
For five minutes we were both on our game, thrusting with sound bites and
parrying with eye rolls.
But then Katherine stopped talking. She just sat there
staring at me as I rattled off my talkers, which actually threw me off my game a
little because—much like sex—debate is often more fun when you’re doing it with
someone else.
After the segment wrapped up, I went to the green room to
get my coat and noticed on my way out that Katherine was still seated on the
set with a bunch of people—including Chris Buckley—standing around her. I
figured she must be pretty famous.
When I got back to the office about 20 minutes later, the receptionist
said Jeff Becker was hold for me. The Jeff Becker—President and CEO of
the Beer Institute. (Yes, there really is a Beer Institute. This is Washington.)
Becker: “Congratulations, man. You got your first kill!”
Me: “Ummm … excuse me?”
Becker: “You didn’t hear? Prescott had a stroke during your
debate. Way to go!”
Me:
Becker: “Did you hear what I just said?”
Me: “Ayup.”
Katherine recovered fully. Sadly, cancer killed Jeff in January
of 2010. I saw a lot of Washington’s elite at his wake, including then-House
Minority Leader John Boehner. But most impressive of all was the decked-out Budweiser
Clydesdale that Anheuser Busch sent to stand
vigil.
As I walked past the massive horse, I thought of the line
from Buckley’s novel, “Tobacco takes care of its own.”
I always found it difficult to explain what it is I actually
did for a living back then. But after Buckley’s book came out, I’d just say, “Have
you read Thank You for Smoking? That pretty much sums it up.”
