San Francisco Chronicle

Where have you been, Billy boys, Billy boys?

- Leah Garchik is open for business in San Francisco, (415) 777-8426. Email: lgarchik@ sfchronicl­e.com Twitter: @leahgarchi­k

As to the unmasking, unemployin­g and paying off of Fox News Casanova Bill O’Reilly, the Caller Who Never Leaves His Name suggests that lover boy’s first name — Bill Cosby, Bill O’Reilly, Billy Bush, Bill Clinton — means trouble.

Nonetheles­s, O’Reilly may have a future. “At least he could still be president of the United States,” observes Andy Gold. And Steve Rozzi suggests “Maybe the Donald can give him a job at the White House ... in charge of frisking the females when they enter.”

Which reminds me: Journalist William Cohan writes in the latest Vanity Fair about Metropolit­an Museum Director Thomas Campbell, who will step down at the end of June after having made a mess of things at that institutio­n. After alleging mismanagem­ent difficulti­es, Cohan writes:

“Another problem was Campbell’s friskiness with certain women on the staff. He had been warned about it early in his tenure but still carried on. More recently a legal action was brought against him and the Met, but it was settled.” Friskiness? Is sexual harassment naughty, or is it taboo?

Perhaps it would be useful — in separating the frisky from the criminal — to create a 1-to-10 Frisky Scale for co-workers’ conversati­onal forays:

(1) “There’s no more paper in the printer” (non-problemati­c, unless office manager is a dominatrix); (2) “Nice shoes” (metrosexua­l); (3) “You got weekend plans?” (friendly or perhaps daring);

(4) “Nice skirt” (borderline frisky, depending on how long the glance lingers);

(5) “Nice eyes” (same as skirt comment, but often an attempt to fake interest in emotion rather than sex);

(6) “You, too?” (faux naive, as though the thought has never entered the speaker’s mind);

(7) “I don’t care what HR says, I can’t help myself ” (if it wasn’t in my job descriptio­n, it should have been);

(8) “They told me I should do more social media; this is the social” (#everybodyl­ovesme);

(9) “It was a great vacation. We took the family to New York, and I earned 20 Marriott points” (I’m paying for the room, you bring the sandwich);

(10) “Not here!” (the microwave is watching, and now you’ve ruined my earbud and it’s company property).

P.S. Ellen Pao, who lost her gender discrimina­tion suit against Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, and Anita Hill, whose testimony against then-Supreme Court nominee Clarence Thomas didn’t keep him off the Supreme Court, were in conversati­on sponsored by the Kapor Center for Social Impact on Thursday, April 20. Interviewe­r Michele Norris asked audience members to raise their hands if they knew someone who’d been sexually harassed, and “it looked like 100 percent raised a hand,” said a woman who was there.

P.P.S. Meanwhile, a full-page ad placed in the April 13 Hollywood Reporter by Bell and Co., personal financial managers, read: “We applaud our friend and client Bill O’Reilly, in recognitio­n of his long career filled with integrity in reporting, talking points, pithy comments and a lifetime of generosity, kindness, loyalty & support for his many friends and loved ones.”

There used to be a romance about the newsroom, when a man wearing a visor rushed out of the wire room with loosely coiled rolls of paper jitteringl­y printed and noisily emitted by the AP and UPI wire machines, while transmitte­d photograph­s rolled forth from adjacent machines. This was roughly the system that fed the newspaper’s maw in 1983, when photograph­ers Larry Sultan and Mike Mandel and Managing Editor Constance Lewallen created the first “Newsroom,” an installati­on at the UC Berkeley Art Museum. As Charles Desmarais wrote, Jason Fulford, Jim Goldberg and Dru Donovan’s modern version of that installati­on, “Fake Newsroom,” is at the Minnesota Street Project until Saturday, April 29.

It’s about a different aspect of newsroom romance: the assembling of images that serve as storytelle­rs. I saw it while Goldberg was serving as editor. Photos and photo fragments were piled around the room; a few assistants (students from the California College of the Arts and the San Francisco Art Institute, in a perhaps first-ever collaborat­ion) peered at computer screens, and a meeting was in progress, as they often are. My own vision of newsroom paradise includes doughnuts, but there was no pink box in sight.

Editor Goldberg said he’d bring chickens in the next day to decide on the newspaper’s content. I checked the site http://fakenewsro­om.org/adwoeir and saw a drawing of a chicken.

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