Dear Scott:
I know we don’t know each other personally and our relationship from afar has not been pleasant.
It is true I’ve spared no opportunity to bash your tell-all expose on your former client. And it is also true that two years ago, I took umbrage at the fact that you were the only presidential press secretary in 27 years to be “too busy” to agree to an interview for my cockamamie text book.
[I remember thinking at the time how easy it would have been for you to have somebody fill in the answers to my dopey questions and forestall the wrath of a lunatic on a mission. I mean that’s what Dunkin’ Donuts decided last week after Michelle Malkin, the brunette Anne Coulter, mistook Dunkin’ spokesperson Rachel Ray for Yassir Arafat. They handled the nuisance, and that ended it.]
So we’ve had issues, you and I. But hey, let’s let bygones be bygones.
In three weeks, when your book tour ends, you will face the harsh reality that media interest in you and your book will be deader than Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign. Trade books die quickly, while text books (remember my cockamamie text book?) live forever.
So you’ll have to start thinking about your next job.
As an, ahem, “older” public relations professional, who has been hired and fired and rehired and refired more times than I can remember (and has now reached the bottom of the barrel, working for Jack O’Dwyer!!), I’d like to give you some unsolicited tips in seeking your next job.
Let me start with the “candor and honesty” that I know you appreciate, since in your book you kept bemoaning the lack of it in the White House.
After assessing the reaction to your best-seller, landing your next job ain’t gonna be easy.
Here’s why.
First, you were disloyal to your employer. And disloyalty is frowned upon, not only in the mafia, but also, most certainly, in the practice of public relations.
Indeed, when we work for a client – in your case, your only client of two decades standing – like the boys in the mob, we take a tacit oath of “omerta” to resist bad-mouthing he or she who has provided us with sustenance and power for the many years of our affiliation.
You violated that tacit oath, as one of your primary nemeses, Dick Cheney, would say, “big time.”
Now I know you’ll argue that you did it only because the “world needed to know the failings of the Bush administration.” But come on, Scottso. Do you really think we needed you to reveal that your ex-buddy’s tenure will go down as one of the shakiest in U.S. presidential history?
More important for your employment prospects, the fact that you worked for this man for two decades, getting paid, acquiring power, and representing him to the public, only to stab him in the back when he was forced to fire you, may not sit well with potential employers.
Second, even though you’ve been a lifelong Republican, a lot of ‘em are going to be pretty steamed with your turncoat tendencies.
So they may not cotton to a consultant or a lobbyist who done their party wrong.
Third, even though you are, in fact, a best-selling author with the nation’s number one book, making your living at writing may not be in the cards.
I mean this book is a memoir of your life’s only pursuit – working for George Bush – so if you’ve never done anything else, I’m not certain where the sequel might come from. (What Happened After I Trashed My Ex-Boss??)
Anyway, those are the hurdles you’ll face.
On the other hand, you do possess the following job-oriented attributes.
• First, you’re now a bone fide celebrity.
In the best tradition of Richard Clarke, George Stephanopoulos, and, of course, Sammy “the Bull” Gravano, you join a long line of snitches-turned-celebrity, that could result in future income.
And in 21st century America, celebrity sells – sometimes even more than competence. (How else can you explain the fact that Paul Begala and Tucker Carlson still earn a living!)
So that’s clearly in your favor.
• As one example, second, you will be in demand as a speaker.
Trade associations, industry group meetings, and, in your case, Democrat Party soirees, will all be eager to hear you diss the Bushies.
It will matter little that, judging by the book, you don’t have much to say. They’ll pay. They’ll pay. (I mean people still pay to hear Bill Clinton speak! So go figure.)
• Third, despite your questionable loyalty credentials, some candidates running for office will still be interested in retaining a spokesman who served at the White House.
Most of these candidates may be on the local level, back in Texas. But if you don’t mind getting involved in the Lubbock Alderman contest or the Beaumont Mayoralty stakes, you should get work.
I suspect, though, that like most public relations people who have sampled the “big time,” your itch to remain on the national stage will be palpable.
The question is, with all the people you’ve alienated and the bridges you’ve burned, can you get work in the national arena?
My answer: Yes. And I would suggest you pursue two positions, in particular.
- Barack Obama’s press secretary.
The presumptive Democrat candidate will be battling John McCain’s “Straight Talk Express,” not to mention dicey questions about experience, religious training, Chicago buds, you name it.
To answer such leading inquiries, Barack will need the kind of “candor and honesty” you champion in the book, but apparently couldn’t muster in the White House.
Perhaps, if you hook up with the Barack brigade, you’ll get a second chance to practice what you belatedly preached.
I understand you don’t have much to say. (Hey, I’ve read the book.) And I know you’re dubious that any cable network would sign a former trusted aide, who wound up eviscerating his former boss with Monday morning platitudes.
Well, does the name Dick Morris mean anything to ya’? (And as far as I know, you haven’t even evaded income taxes or engaged a hooker to suck your toes!)
Besides, you’ve lost weight, bought some new suits, and look better. And on TV, that’s all that counts.
So good luck. Godspeed. And for god sakes, watch your back. |