Forgotten man
The media's obsession with scandal helped derail Joe Kennedy's political
ambitions. But by the time he pulled out, he was yesterday's news.
Joe Kennedy was on CNN Late Edition to talk about why he'd
decided to leave Congress, and Wolf Blitzer indulged him briefly. But Jesus
Christ. Kathleen Willey's 60 Minutes interview was just seven hours
away, and it was all anyone in Washington could think about. Blitzer let
Kennedy prattle on for a few minutes, then put it to him: So, what about
this Willey stuff? Huh? Huh?
Kennedy filibustered a bit before replying: "I think that Mrs. Clinton has
sent the whole country a signal that somehow she and her husband have found a
way to work this out between them."
Good grief. Lucky for Joe that he'd already said he didn't have "any idea of
what the nature of the latest allegations are." Blitzer was visibly relieved to
get him out of there. Right after the break it was back to business as usual,
with Patricia Ireland talking about fondled breasts and presidential erections,
and James Carville going off on a gonzo riff. "There's been more money spent
investigating the sex life of the president than investigating TWA 800 --
killed 232 people," Carville squealed before bursting into laughter at his own
bullshit. Blitzer laughed too. Much better.
Who would have guessed?
In 1997, the Kennedys were the media's prime target, and not just locally. The
national press, from the prestigious (the New York Times,
Newsweek, and 60 Minutes) to the ridiculous (Extra,
Hard Copy, and the supermarket tabs), couldn't get enough of them. And
no one took it on the chin more than Joe. His ex-wife accused him of verbally
abusing her. Reporters demanded to be told how much he knew about Michael and
the babysitter, and what he tried to do about it. He was dissed when he tried
to apologize at the Democratic state convention. He was criticized when one of
his sons was hurt playing with fireworks. He was mocked when John-John, in a
particularly addle-brained essay in his magazine, George, called him and
Michael "poster boys for bad behavior."
It got so bad that Kennedy pulled out of the governor's race. But the media
heat wasn't really lowered until December 31, when Michael was killed in a
skiing accident, bringing a year of scandal to a tragic conclusion. Three weeks
later, the world was introduced to a young woman named Monica Lewinsky, and the
Kennedys officially became last year's scandal.
So when Joe made his surprise announcement last Friday, it hardly created a
ripple outside of Massachusetts. Sure, he got a mention on that evening's
network newscasts. (On MSNBC, which has more time to fill than the broadcast
programs do, anchor Brian Williams bantered with the Boston Globe's
Chris Black, to little effect.) Kennedy also made the front page (barely) of
the New York Times. But the Washington Post relegated his
decision to page A2, the news magazines ran briefs, and the New York
Post buried him inside, blowing out its Saturday cover with PREZ MADE ME
TOUCH HIM and NUDE DICAPRIO PIX FUROR.
The media had the Willeys, and Kennedy was treated like just another
congressman -- albeit better known than most -- who'd grown sick of politics,
sick of the scrutiny, sick of the constant demands. "A member of the House is
one-435th of one-half of one of the three branches of government," lectured
George Will on This Week with Sam and Cokie. "It is not miraculous or a
character flaw [that Kennedy has decided to leave]. He wants to do something
else with his life."
Thus the Boston media were able to enjoy this particular Kennedy orgy all by
themselves.
The local newscasts chewed up plenty of minutes on Friday evening, but it was
clearly a struggle for any of them to go much beyond Kennedy's simple
announcement. On New England Cable News's NewsNight, Globe
columnist and business consultant John Ellis, a roommate of Kennedy's at Milton
Academy, opined, "I think it's good for Joe." Right. On WCVB-TV (Channel 5),
treacly music played over sepia-toned footage of Robert Kennedy's funeral,
while Clark Booth said of RFK's eldest son, "There was always reason to wonder
whether he always had his heart in it." On WLVI-TV (Channel 56), there was the
year-old video of Joe saying "I'm so very sorry" once again, while Jon Keller
intoned, "And, he might have added, so very burned out on public life."
Even though none of this was particularly startling, the TV newscasts all did
a competent job of running through the basics: Kennedy's withdrawal from
politics, and the year of scandal that led up to it; his future political
prospects, especially his continued interest in running for governor someday;
and the unexpected race for his soon-to-be-vacated congressional seat.
Which meant that the Globe and the Herald had to emulate the
sports pages, offering commentary and analysis on events with which even the
most casual news consumer was already familiar.
For my money, the Herald beat the Globe on Saturday and again
on Sunday, with crisper execution (the Saturday chart of congressional hopefuls
was especially good -- but couldn't anyone find a photo of city councilor Tom
Keane?), more forward-looking think pieces, and more creative
opinion-mongering. The Herald even beat the Globe by a full day
in offering an examination of Citizens Energy Corporation, the fuel-assistance
company that Kennedy founded and will return to running full-time after he
leaves Congress, at the end of the year.
It's not that there was anything wrong with the way the Globe covered
Kennedy's announcement. Overall, though, the paper lacked the Herald's
energy while not really adding much in the way of depth or authority. Consider
the commentary. On Saturday, Washington bureau chief David Shribman and
Boston-based political columnist Brian Mooney adopted an elegiac, end-of-an-era
tone, which continued the next day when the paper's Knights of Camelot, Mike
Barnicle (a former RFK aide), David Nyhan, and Tom Oliphant all weighed in.
Indeed, Shribman's theme -- that "the tragedies that have followed the Kennedys
. . . have removed the shimmer of glamour from the family, stripping
away its romance and, most important, its sense of destiny" -- set the tone for
all of the Globe's coverage.
By contrast, Herald political columnist Wayne Woodlief on Saturday
offered a sharp, future-directed piece of analysis. Though Woodlief was hardly
alone in observing that Kennedy would still like to run for governor, he took
that thought a logical step forward, writing that his leaving Congress "may
represent a silent bet" that Acting Governor Paul Cellucci will win the
election this November. Kennedy's role, should such a scenario play out:
"shadow governor for the next four years." (Too bad Woodlief repeated his
Saturday column, only at much greater length, on Sunday.)
Also on target Saturday was Jack Meyers, who recalled Kennedy's onetime
designation as "one of the 10 dumbest members of Congress," but who also
dredged up a 1988 incident that helps explain Kennedy's enduring appeal: a
shouting match he had with a British soldier in Northern Ireland after Kennedy
thought he heard the soldier swear at a priest. And Andrew Miga recalled
Kennedy's impatiently toying with a football in his office two months ago,
fuming, "I just don't know what the hell we're doing here" -- an anecdote that
said much about the mindset behind Friday's announcement.
The Herald's only turkey was Howie Carr's sneering farewell to Kennedy,
whom he'd dubbed the "Wizard of Uhs" years ago for his tongue-tangled verbal
style. Carr's take -- that Kennedy was lusting after the $600,000 salary
Michael had paid himself to run Citizens Energy -- was a tone-deaf
interpretation of what struck just about everyone else, regardless of ideology,
as a reasonably high-minded act. The Herald's Margery Eagan got it right
on Sunday in a column in which she contrasted Joe Kennedy's willingness to take
the heat with Bill and Hillary Clinton's willingness to blame anyone but
themselves.
The Globe's best article was a Michael Kranish report that led the
paper on Sunday. Headlined CONGRESS IN THE MIDST OF EXODUS, the story described
the migration from Capitol Hill that Kennedy has now joined. Kennedy, Kranish
wrote, "will leave behind an increasingly fractured Congress where turnover has
become the norm and term limits are self-imposed." Add to that the New York
Times' Sunday piece, by Richard Berke, on rising young politicians who
won't even run in the first place, and a rather disturbing picture emerges of a
future Congress that will make Newt, Armey, et al. look like statesmen.
In a hilarious essay in Slate, written after Representative Bill Paxon
(R-New York) announced his retirement but before Kennedy pulled out, Jack
Shafer mocked politicians -- and others -- who say they're getting out of the
rat race in order to spend more time with their families. "Many tender the
family alibi because they're ashamed of having been fired, or embarrassed to
admit that they've conceded defeat to the god of success (Paxon's case, I'm
sure), or because they're going nuts on the job," Shafer wrote.
No doubt that's true of many, and it may especially be applicable to Paxon,
who probably counted heads and concluded that his dream of becoming House
Speaker would forever remain unfulfilled. And Kennedy has made it clear that
Shafer's "nuts on the job" category applies to him. But on Friday and since, he
has also spoken with what appears to be genuine emotion about wanting to spend
more time with his twin sons, who, at 16, are a year older than he was when his
own father was killed.
Back on the set of CNN Late Edition, Kennedy was trying to explain that
to Wolf Blitzer -- with uncertain syntax, but unquestioned feeling.
"I mean, I have been away from my sons for most of their life," he said. "I've
either been in Washington -- you go out raising money, or you go out
campaigning for others or campaigning for yourself. And it just means that from
time to time, I think it's good and healthy for everyone to kind of take a deep
breath and get some perspective on where they're headed."
It was an important message, even a moving one. But at that moment, you just
knew Blitzer wished someone else were sitting across from him. Hell, at that
point he'd probably have settled for William Ginsburg. This was no time for
uplift. The beast was hungry, and it needed to be fed.
Articles from July 24, 1997 & before can be accessed here