Don’t you ever wonder to yourself how a multimillionaire media celebrity like Tom Brokaw knows the hearts and minds of poor, downtrodden “working class” waitresses in places like Norfolk, Nebraska so well. I mean, it simply astounds me the depth and breadth of his intimate knowledge regarding their lives, and the emotions they likely felt last night for a reasonably well off Republican Vice Presidential candidate. I wish I could have his all powerful mind reading skills when it comes to persons of the female gender, if only for one day.
* To the extent anyone can have a deep thought this early in the morning.
It’s because each and every night, Brokaw takes a train from New York back back to the sleepy little town in South Dakota where he was born.
It’s because each and every night, Brokaw takes a train from New York back back to the sleepy little town in South Dakota where he was born . . .
and stops a a lonely little diner in Norfolk to chat up the waitress who gives him a cuppa at 6:00 am. Oh wait. Norfolk has no passenger train service. I guess he must catch a bus out of Omaha.
A “cuppa”? Is Norfolk some kind of magical English village out in the Plains I’ve never heard of?
Short for cuppa joe.
I remember one anecdote from Brokaw’s coverage of the Gulf War that showed he once had heart.
After one of the surrender negotiation sessions, he signed off after making a report and had extra satellite time left over. The military officer who related this story said that Brokaw talked to the officer and offered the sat time to the officer’s men so they could call home. The officer was touched and pleased.
That was then. Now, I don’t know.
I don’t claim he’s a bad human being, but he’s typical of our media coverage these days. Lots of fuzzy speculation and “anecdotes” and very few facts.
He’s not a real reporter, though. He’s been an anchor and political correspondent his whole life. And fair enough. Nothing necessarily wrong with that, but let’s not pretend he’s the equivalent of Dan Rather jumping from foxhole to foxhole in Vietnam telling the nation, “We’re losing this war,” when others refused to say it.
Brokaw’s never been down in the mud.
These media types barely leave NYC/DC or their Jersey/Conn/VA/MD suburbs.
BTW, Norfolk is the home of Johnny Carson.
So sickening. I stopped watching TV when I was 15 or 16. I still don’t watch, 32 years later. I couldn’t stand the smarmy corn syrup 32 years ago, I can’t stand it now. I can’t even listen to the Conventions on the radio for more than 30 seconds before my teeth start rotting from all the syrupy acting and writing spewed by the pols.
Deep Thought: wasn’t Paul Revere a community organizer?