A journalist’s lament
During Housing and Urban Development Secretary Ben Carson’s address on civility at Stamford’s Ferguson Library last week, the only time he tilted toward an ungracious remark was when he characterized media reports about his agency as “a bunch of crap.”
I laughed a little too loudly.
I’ve gotten used to half the population flinching when I identify myself as a journalist. The other half keeps our tribe marching forward. These days, of course, journalists are as popular in the White House as a stomach flu at a June wedding.
The speaking series is sponsored by the Dilenschneider Group, the library and the Hearst Connecticut Media Group, which owns this newspaper. I, along with some 45 others, was invited to Bob Dilenschneider’s waterfront home in Darien to have dinner with Carson after the event. I asked to bring along Barry Lytton, who covered the speech as a news story, and acknowledged the dicey issue of whether it was off the record.
“You might want to put the notebook away,” I teased Barry as we got out of the car.
In hindsight, I wish I had wedged a PRESS card in my hatband like an unbilled extra in a vintage TCM flick.
Dilenschneider greeted us at the door with the gracious preemptive declaration that “As far as I’m concerned, everything here is on the record.”
When I found my seat, I instinctively checked out the name cards to my right (“Ben Carson”) and my left (“Candy Carson”). Determined to be civil, I prepared to warn them that my perch might be a demonstration of Dilenschneider’s wicked sense of humor.
Alas ...
The guest to the secretary’s right immediately drew him into his orbit. I joined the group to our left in engaging Mrs. Carson in conversation. I made a mild attempt to reveal my secret identity, but was drowned out.
While detailing the marvels of The Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C., Candy Carson casually bemoaned “the media,” closing her eyes and rolling her head as though the Sunday minister had channeled the works of the devil.
Well, this was awkward.
I looked for a gentle way to identify myself. Taking out my notebook seemed like it might be gauche. Finally, when it turned into a one-on-one discussion, I asked her a question about the museum.
“Give me your card and I’ll send you more information,” she responded.
“This might be a good time to tell you I’m a journalist,” I confessed.
I’ve been the recipient of a lot of Stinkeyes in my day, but Candy Carson’s is a magnum opus.
“You should have told me that right away,” she deadpanned.
There was no hiding my resume. Dilenschneider later introduced me, and others, to the crowd while inviting us to share observations about civility. My theme was about how there can be no progress, no solutions in the absence of engagement (hey, that’s why we have editorial pages).
In that spirit, Candy Carson and I exchanged theories about the evolution of the media, agreeing on many issues concerning the challenges of declining revenues and the perils of a ravenous hunger for online “hits.”
“What is the solution?” she asked a few times.
Given her own work as a researcher and historian, I observed that she is a journalist of a sort.
“Well, yes I am,” she said with a warm smile.
Meanwhile, her husband took turns meeting guests at different tables, many of whom were from area agencies, including Ferguson Library President Alice Knapp; The Business Council of Fairfield County President Chris Bruhl; and Fairfield County’s Community Foundation President Juanita James.
Afterward, Candy Carson performed on violin, opening with “Cowboy’s Lament,” as she temporarily transformed the HUD secretary (an accomplished neurosurgeon) into a roadie on a makeshift soundboard.
As he worked the room, Dr. Carson opined that President Donald Trump is “working to be less uncivil.”
This journalist’s lament is that casting all members of the media in the same lot is the same as declaring all doctors to be quacks. But doctors and journalists should be able to bear scrutiny. The real problem is that the president is perpetuating a dehumanized “Us vs. Them” society, tossing the media, feminists, immigrants and so many others into the same brew.
I fantasize that Trump might brazenly host a lecture on civility. If the day ever comes, I’ll be there, PRESS card firmly planted in the band of my fedora.