
SIMI
VALLEY, Calif.—The only thing more surreal than watching 15 Republican
presidential wannabes snipe, swipe and shout at each other Wednesday
night on live TV was watching them do it in person at the Ronald Reagan
Presidential Library in parched Southern California.
OK
— “in person” is a bit of a stretch. As one of more than 800
journalists who traveled from across the country and around the world to
cover the CNN debate, I actually watched it from a hangar-like tent
about 75 feet away from the hall where the action was taking place. And I
watched it on a TV tuned to CNN — one of 16 screens positioned
throughout the press tent — much like the 25 million viewers watching at
home.

Republican
presidential candidates, from left, Rick Santorum, George Pataki, Rand
Paul, Mike Huckabee, Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz, Ben Carson, Donald Trump,
Jeb Bush, Scott Walker, Carly Fiorina, John Kasich and Chris Christie
take the stage during the presidential debate on Wednesday. (Photo:
Chris Carlson/AP)
To
be honest, “watched” is a stretch as well. Every time I glanced around
the room, fewer than 10 percent of my fellow reporters were looking up
at the TVs. The rest were staring down at their laptops or their iPhones
— refreshing their Twitter feeds, prewriting their stories or messaging
their editors back in New York or Washington, D.C.
In
short, 800 journalists and media personalities paid hundreds or even
thousands of dollars for the privilege of experiencing the debate much
the same way they would experience it at home, only together in a tent.
And many of them would readily admit, when asked, that the entire
exercise, while essential for candidates looking to stand out, is
becoming increasingly pointless for the reporters on the scene.
“It’s
very rare that something useful comes out of this,” I overheard ABC
News political director Rick Klein telling another reporter, who was
filming him. Klein was standing in the so-called spin room, where the
politicians and their posses gather after the event to say “we won
tonight” over and over in various different ways.
“Yet we’re all here,” Klein continued. “It’s part of the tradition.”
“Why
bother in an era when the real post-debate conversation is taking place
on Twitter and Facebook anyway?” the other reporter asked.
“We do it,” Klein confessed, “because we don’t know what else to do.”
And
so, because I didn’t know what else to do, I fortified myself with a
tuna melt from Reagan’s Country CafĂ©, where visitors can dine under a
lovely photograph of the Gipper holding a saddle. From the patio, I took
one last look at the stunning, shining-city-on-a-hill view of the
valley’s sun-bleached hills. And then I walked into the circus.
***
“There is electricity here, you gotta admit!” I heard Wolf Blitzer bellowing on screen.
“There is,” Anderson Cooper replied. He didn’t look as excited as Blitzer.
“OK,” one young reporter said to another. “I’m going to go sit at my laptop and pretend there’s a reason I’m here.”

Journalists,
candidates and their representatives crowd the spin room following the
CNN Republican presidential debate on Wednesday. (Photo: Mark J.
Terrill/AP)
The
undercard debate was about to begin. On screen, CNN cut away to
correspondent Sara Murray standing outside of a door. Behind the door,
she promised, were the four men about to do battle: Lindsey Graham, Rick
Santorum, George Pataki and Bobby Jindal.
“And we are still awaiting the arrival of Donald Trump,” Murray added.
At
the Reagan Library, all roads seemed to lead back to Trump. This was
obviously true on stage, whether or not Trump was actually present; the
first four questions of the JV debate were all about The Donald.
But
it was also true behind the scenes. As Graham, Santorum, Pataki and
Jindal jousted in the debate hall, a Radio France reporter stood in the
middle of the so-called spin room, speaking into his cellphone in
French. I could only make out a single word: “Trump.” Nearby, a trio of
bearded, beflanneled dudes from Funny or Die cornered former American Idol
runner-up and North Carolina congressional candidate Clay Aiken,
resplendent in a slick gray suit and bright-blue tie, to ask him, on
camera, about his experience as a contestant on Trump’s Celebrity Apprentice.
“Can we say ‘f***?’” Aiken asked his interlocutors.
“Sure!” they said.
“Trump
promised me a check for finishing in second place,” Aiken said. “I
never saw that check. So I’ve come here specifically to ask him where
the f*** that check is.”
“Donald Trump doesn’t keep his promises?” one of the guys yelped.
Aiken shook his head no.
Apparently they were joking about something.
Even
after the first debate, as cameras and boom mics encircled Graham,
Santorum, Pataki and Jindal in the spin room, the focus remained firmly
on Trump.
“We
already have a celebrity president in the White House,” I heard Jindal
say in response to yet another Trump question. “What we need is a
conservative.”
A few feet away, Louis Aguirre of CBS’ The Insider was introducing a segment— or at least attempting to.
“But
is Trump ready to be president?” Aguirre said to the camera, his white
dress shirt unbuttoned to his sternum. “Or has being a celebrity
completely the changed the game?”
“Not ‘changed the game,’” his producer interrupted.
“What am I saying here?” Aguirre sighed.
“Has being a celebrity overshadowed the process.” Aguirre started in again, but his producer quickly cut him off. “And remember: You’re at the Reagan Library.”
I
spotted Chris Matthews across the room. “Trump is very good at
defense,” the MSNBC host was telling a reporter from TVC Mas Latino.
“It’s an old military rule. Let the other person attack, and then smack
him.”
I decided it was time to return to the press tent. Near the door, Steph Bauer from Access Hollywood was doing her live shot.

George
Pataki, Rick Santorum, Bobby Jindal and Lindsey Graham shake hands at
the conclusion of the CNN Republican presidential debate on Wednesday.
(Photo: Lucy Nicholson/Reuters)
“I
just talked to Sen. Lindsey Graham, who summed up what we’re all
thinking,” Bauer cooed into the camera. “As long as Trump is here, we’re
all entertained.”
The cameraman lowered his lens.
“It’s three hours until Trump comes to the spin room,” he said. “So we can go back to our staging area.”
***
On Tuesday, I wrote
that the reason Trump is leading the GOP polls, at least so far, is
that he disrespects politics. He disrespects the process. He disrespects
the rhetoric. He disrespects his fellow candidates.
His fans love that, because they really, really disrespect politics, too.
The political press isn’t all that different. Reporters don’t disrespect politics, exactly, but they are cynical about it. The focus groups. The consultants. The stilted, corporate, inorganic quality of the whole rigmarole.
One
of the reasons Trump attracts so much media attention — beyond just
being a celebrity — is that he promises to upend those conventions.
Reporters already know what most candidates are going to say before they
say it. But you never quite know with Trump, and that makes him a lot
more fun to cover.
For
the first few minutes of the primetime debate, Trump delivered on that
promise. He bobbed and weaved, and we were all entertained.
“First of all, Rand Paul should not even been on this stage,” Trump snapped, seemingly out of nowhere. “He’s number 11.”
The press tent cracked up.
“I never attacked him on his look,” Trump added. “And, believe me, there’s plenty of subject matter there.”
The press tent cracked up again.
But
then a funny thing happened. Around the 50-minute mark. CNN moderator
Jake Tapper asked former Hewlett Packard CEO Carly Fiorina a question — a
question that, like so many others Wednesday night, was supposed to
provoke an onstage spat between two particular candidates.
“In an interview last week in Rolling Stone
magazine, Donald Trump said the following about you,” Tapper told
Fiorina. “Quote, ‘Look at that face. Would anyone vote for that? Can you
imagine that, the face of our next president?’ Mr. Trump later said he
was talking about your persona, not your appearance. Please feel free to
respond what you think about his persona.”
Fiorina narrowed her eyes. “I think women all over this country heard very clearly what Mr. Trump said,” she told Tapper. And then she went silent.
Fiorina narrowed her eyes. “I think women all over this country heard very clearly what Mr. Trump said,” she told Tapper. And then she went silent.

Carly Fiorina speaks during the CNN Republican presidential debate on Wednesday. (Photo: Lucy Nicholson/Reuters)
The crowd roared. In the press tent, fingers began furiously clacking on keyboards.
Trump
tried to recover. “I think she’s got a beautiful face,” he sputtered,
further proving Fiorina’s point. “And I think she’s a beautiful woman.”
But that was that.
“Carly just won this thing,” I heard someone say.
“That was the line of the night,” someone else replied.
When
covering presidential debates — especially West Coast debates —
reporters work under very tight deadlines. Editors back East want to go
to bed. And so reporters tend to seize on a new narrative the second it
presents itself — especially if it presents itself near the beginning of
the evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment
publisher,advertisement,fun,cool,interesting,news,travelling,football