Vox Populi

The O'Shaughnessy Files

William O'Shaughnessy

• Publisher: Fordham University Press
• Year: 2010
• Print ISBN: 9780823232475
• eBook ISBN: 9780823232499
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Radio
• Index: Social Sciences

Vox Populi is the long-awaited fourth collection of interviews, editorials, essays, observations and keen insight from legendary New York broadcaster William O'Shaughnessy. With this inspiring new anthology, Bill is back in a big way, offering compelling dialogue and opinion on timely issues and current events in politics, media, the arts and popular culture.A masterful interviewer, O'Shaughnessy goes one-on- one with Barbara Taylor Bradford, Steve Forbes,
Joe Califano and a colorful band of townie characters from Westchester – the Golden Apple. Broadcasting
for five decades from what the Wall Street Journal hailed as "the quintessential community station in
America, " his thoughtful and muscular commentaries have been widely praised in all the important journals
in the land.A self-styled First Amendment "voluptuary, " O'Shaughnessy is a stellar defender of Free Speech,
having devoted the good part of fifty years to fighting censorship and government intrusion from his influential
perch in the heart of the Eastern Establishment.He's the one they roll out when the likes of Howard Stern, Bob Grant and Imus get in a jam. Colorful national figures and beguiling "townies" abound in Vox Populi which is also laden with exquisitely beautiful eulogies and tributes to his departed friends Tim Russert, Wellington Mara, Robert Merrill and Ossie Davis.And, as in every Bill O'Shaughnessy book, there is stunning and powerful wisdom and brilliant observations
from Governor Mario Cuomo whom he so admires.The great American historian David McCullough observed: "I always look forward to reading the history
of our times Bill O'Shaughnessy has written." O'Shaughnessy is an authentic American voice.

I
BROADCASTING,
CENSORSHIP,
AND THE FIRST
AMENDMENT

THE SILENCING OF IMUS

Censorship from corporate timidity in the face of economic boycotts is just as dangerous as the stifling of creative and artistic expression by government fiat, decree, sanction, or regulation. Here is our commentary from April 16, 2007.

Howard Stern, Opie and Anthony, Bob Grant, Bill Maher, Chris Rock, George Lopez, and even—God forbid!—Rosie. We’ve always had terrible examples to defend. And Don Imus has given us another stellar example. But defend it we must.

Not the hateful and discomfiting words. But the right of the social commentator to be heard, and the right of the people to decide.

Don Imus is a performer, a disc jockey, a humorist, and a provocateur with a rapier-sharp wit. Unlike many of our colleagues, he avoids raucous vulgarity or incendiary right-wing rhetoric directed at immigrants, illegal aliens, and other familiar targets of our tribe.

Throughout his brilliant career, Mr. Imus has been an equal-opportunity offender, poking fun at the high and mighty as well as at the rest of us for our foibles and pomposity. He may have occasionally gone too far. Were his comments about the Rutgers basketball team racist or mean-spirited? Only Imus knows for sure, but we doubt it. Were they funny? No.

His mea culpa and apologies seemed sincere. We had thus hoped his sponsors and the executives at CBS, WFAN, MSNBC, and all those local affiliates across the country would stand up to the pressure and continue to carry the I-Man.

So many successful performers take and put nothing back. Imus has been extravagantly generous to a number of worthy causes, often without fanfare.

Imus claims he’s been active in our profession for 30 years—actually, it’s closer to 40 since he came roaring out of Cleveland. By our calculation, that’s about 8,000 broadcasts, with some 2,400,000 ad libs. Admittedly, none as insensitive as his reference to the Rutgers team.

This was a misfire. And it was to be hoped the executives at CBS and NBC would act accordingly.

Here’s a baseball analogy. Suppose you had a pitcher, with remarkable stamina, who threw 8,000 innings. Many of his pitches will miss the strike zone. A few may even hit the poor batter. And during those 8,000 innings, spanning 30 or 40 seasons, he may even bean the umpire! But he’s still a great pitcher.

With the possible exception of overnight broadcasting, from dusk until dawn, morning drive is the toughest shift in radio. And when Imus plops those well-traveled bones into a chair, straps on his earphones, and throws his voice out into another morning, armed only with his humor, wit, and irreverence, he may even be compared to a Franciscan priest dragging himself up into a pulpit after 30 or 40 years to pronounce the Good News before a sparse, sleepy congregation at an early Mass.

But Imus strives only to make us laugh or think. That’s a pretty good way to make a living. And he should thus be protected from those unforgiving critics who heaped scorn and derision upon him as a result of this controversy.

The guy misfired. But he should not have been fired.

Censorship from corporate timidity in the face of economic boycotts is just as dangerous as the stifling of creative and artistic expression by government fiat, decree, sanction, or regulation.

That’s just as treacherous as any racism, sexism, or bigotry.

THE UNDOING OF DON IMUS

Jonathan Bush, author of this commentary, is a brother of President George H.W. Bush, an uncle of President George W. Bush, and the father of rising TV–radio star William “Billy” Bush. His own father was the U.S. senator from Connecticut Prescott Bush. Jon is a successful investor based in New Haven. He and his wife, Jodi, never fail to remind us that their son and heir, Billy, got his start at WVOX. Young Mr. Bush is destined for even greater stardom. Jim Griffin, the uber-agent at the Paradigm Agency, told me that Billy Bush could be the next Johnny Carson. Meanwhile, his classy father retains a keen interest in the great issues of the day. This was his take on the silencing of the I-Man.

Much has been written and much said about the firing of Don Imus. After the recent appearance of Hillary Clinton at Rutgers, opportunistically pandering away, if a little late, about rising up against those who might disparage minorities or women, I felt compelled to speak up. So here goes.

About ten years ago, my company moved from New York to New Haven, and I undertook the daily grind of a forty-minute morning drive to work. In that first year I tuned my radio to Don Imus and have listened to him at least two or three days a week ever since. At times I found his show funny; at other times I would turn off the radio violently as he talked to politicians who did not exactly share my point of view. The show offered a welcome escape to the caged listener.

From laugh-out-loud-funny skits to serious political discussions to interviews with politicians to authors of books to country and western singers, no show presented an attention-getting format remotely close to that of “Imus in the Morning.” Through it all, the mercurial Imus rode with effortless charisma, guiding the program with a sure hand and a deft instinct for humor. His long-suffering support staff stood ever at the ready to bail the chief out if he had gone too far.

Part of the schtick centered around Imus’s fecklessness, such as a recent episode that focused on an invitation to Imus from Brian Williams to join him on a trip to Iraq. Naturally, the cast of characters discussed the idea that Imus was afraid to go. Imus, in a sense, was playing the role of everyman but with one exception: Imus’s equivocating was delightfully funny.

Occasionally, Imus, speaking probably ten million words a year or more, would stray close to the line of decency. But listeners didn’t particularly care. They tuned in to hear Imus’s wit, Imus’s charm, Imus’s intransigence, Imus’s melodic baritone voice—in short, Imus, warts and all.

Now on Thursday April 5, 2007, Imus, in a brief snippet of humor, let slip a demeaning phrase. He referred, jokingly, to the Rutgers women’s basketball team as “nappy-headed hos.” Could any sensible person think he meant this disparagingly? Of course not. However, he immediately apologized, subsequently almost falling over backward apologizing, even going on the radio show of one of the nation’s leading mountebanks, the Reverend Al Sharpton. (As an aside, has anyone yet heard Sharpton apologize for his hand in the deplorable Tawana Brawley affair?)

So what happened? NBC turned off the cameras on MSNBC. Then CBS suspended Imus for two weeks. Then, knuckling under to pressure from a few big advertisers, themselves afraid of losing African American customers through a threatened boycott by Sharpton and the Reverend Jesse Jackson, Les Moonves of CBS canceled the entire show. Poof! Gone.

One thing amazes me: that in a country that prides itself on free speech, a gifted performer who brightens the lives of millions of listeners every morning could be snuffed out in an instant.

Of course cowardice gained the victory—the cowardice of Mr. Moonves, who knuckled under, and the cowardice of the advertisers who feared a boycott if they continued to sponsor Imus. However, far worse seems the cowardice of all those who fed at Imus’s table only to abandon him when the tables turned against him. Where were those men and women whose voices should have spoken out against the firing?

On his program, Imus frequently used the term “weasel” to refer to those of whom, for one reason or another, he was being critical. Little did he know that the term would apply to all those people who toadied up to him, who leapt at the opportunity to appear on his program, only to run from him when their support was called for.

There exists one vast constituency who would gladly speak up for Imus had they but a voice so to do so—namely, the millions of listeners who have been denied the joy of hearing “Imus in the Morning” and who are wondering what happened to the idea “Let he who is without guilt among you cast the first stone.”

BOB GRANT ON THE IMUS CONTROVERSY

It takes one to know one. Bob Grant has been pilloried, castigated, censured, and denounced by our colleagues in the public press. So it was to be expected he’d get his ire up when Imus was on the ropes. This is the interview he did with us on April 20, 2007.

WILLIAM O’SHAUGHNESSY (W.O.): In our profession, the Imus controversy lingers. The I-Man is silenced. For how long? Nobody knows. And we’re going to switch now to New Jersey for the dean of talk show hosts, the great Bob Grant. We are all your students, sir. How do you see this controversy with Imus?

BOB GRANT (B.G.): Well, actually, after reflecting on it, I’m not really surprised. That doesn’t mean I approve of what happened. But Don has lived on the edge for a long time. And, of course, when I heard about all this, I immediately thought about what happened to me eleven years ago.

Naturally, I understood when he said he was shocked because I was, too. Neither of us ever intended to get people so angry they would want us fired.

W.O.: Bob Grant, you, too, have been the victim of intimidation and coercion.

B.G.: Well, yes indeed. (laughter) So many things were broadcast with humor and then perceived to be very serious. I remember asking a program director, a very nice, sympathetic guy, “What are they taking this all so seriously for?” He replied, “Hey, wait a minute! That means you’ve achieved your goal!” And as far as Don is concerned, I believe certain people have taken him way too seriously.

W.O.: Should they have fired Don Imus, Bob Grant? MSNBC and CBS? Should they have thrown him off the air?

B.G.: Well, I thought they would suspend him. Matter of fact, I predicted, “Well, one week, maybe two.” But, apparently, the pressure was so intense, sponsors were dropping like flies, and that’s what did it. Purely economic. I’m sure the honchos at NBC and CBS weren’t that offended in the beginning.

W.O.: What do you think about the heat he took from Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton?

B.G.: Well, I’ve talked to people who say these guys didn’t really care about the sensitivity of the Rutgers basketball team. But it’s a great opportunity to insert themselves into a controversial issue and ride to the rescue of the damsels in distress.

W.O.: Bob Grant, it’s so wonderful to hear your strong voice. Do you miss being on the radio?

B.G.: Yes. (laughter)

W.O.: Well, what does the lion do in the winter? Is there really a famous diner where you’re the king?

B.G.: No. (laughter) As a matter of fact, it’s not that close to where I live now.

W.O.: We’re speaking to you from the Jersey shore?

B.G.: That’s right. And I spend a lot of time at my new home in Florida. I love to travel, and I’m having fun just doing things I postponed for all those years.

W.O.: But, Bob Grant, if WABC or WOR called, would you saddle up again, strap on the earphones, and go back to a regular gig?

B.G.: I don’t know about that. But maybe a part-time thing, once or twice a week.

W.O.: Are you going to tell us how old you are? Or how young you are?

B.G.: I’ll say it indirectly. I made my entrance into the world on March 14, 1929, the birthday of Albert Einstein.

W.O.: Bob Grant, you graced our airways for a long, long time. You got some people mad at you. You made us all think. Has it changed over the years? I remember the great WNEW, and you were at WMCA, the Ellen and Peter Straus station. Do you still listen to the radio?

B.G.: I’m a little embarrassed to tell you, hardly at all. If I jump in the car, maybe I’ll put something on.

W.O.: What do you watch on television in your Florida home or on the Jersey shore?

B.G.: Well, naturally, I watch CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News Channel. I’m addicted to the news channels. (laughter)

W.O.: Mario Cuomo, your old nemesis, I guess he’s about seventy-four now. Did you ever make up?

B.G.: Well, no, we never did, and it’s kind of sad in a way because at one time, I felt a great fondness for him, and he was a good friend. And when I say “good friend”—you know they throw that word around loosely—but one time, he really was.

The man has a great sense of humor. We had lunch together a couple of times. Then, I started kidding around, and over time, some people thought it was a shootout at the OK Corral. But I really bear him no malice whatsoever, and he would probably be surprised if he heard that. No, in many respects, he’s a remarkable man.

W.O.: Bob Grant, I won’t keep you long from your sojourn on the Jersey shore. I get a flash of déjà vu when you used to take callers, and I’m a little nervous interviewing the legendary Bob Grant. But it drove you nuts when they’d say, “Hi, Mr. Grant. How are you?” You couldn’t stand small talk. Remember that?

B.G.: Well, that was only on the air. In real life, I’d give them a traditional response. But many times on the air, in the beginning of my career on the West Coast, they would start off by saying, “How are you?” and the next thi...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword by Mario M. Cuomox
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• F.O.B. (Friends of Bill)
• Part I: Broadcasting, Censorship, and The First Amendment
• Part II: One On One: Interviews
• Part III: At The Podium
• Part IV: 30: When All Is Said and Done
• Epilogue: More Riffs, Rants, and Raves (Summer Edition)
• Index