Author: Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR

On lying as a PR strategy; or, sex, lies and drug tests

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR1 Comment

I wasn’t going to write about the downfall of Indiana Congressman Mark Souder, latest in a long series of religious, “family values” advocates caught valuing his carnal urges over his marriage and family. I don’t get mad about these horny hypocrites any more, although the irony of preaching ‘family values’ while bedding a younger staffer is striking.

At least we didn’t have the wronged wife, beautifully dressed, smiling bravely next to him as he gave his tearful resignation—and where he obliquely blamed Washington and those criticizing him for his transgression. He claims the Mrs. wanted to be there, but why should we believe him now?

I also wasn’t going to write about Democratic Senate candidate Mark Blumenthal’s claim that he “misspoke” when he said he served in Vietnam.

‘”On a few occasions, I have misspoken about my service and I regret that. And I take full responsibility,” said Blumenthal…”But I will not allow anyone to take a few misplaced words and impugn my record of service to our country.”’

Yeah, right. There’s a big difference between serving “during” the Vietnam war and actually going there, only to come home and be ridiculed and spit on in the airport. (Ask my brother about that and see what he says.)

So again, we’ve got the liar blaming others and really only showing regret that he got caught, and deflecting blame onto the people criticizing him.

What prompted me to write is the news that Floyd Landis, dethroned 2006 Tour de France winner, is finally coming clean about his doping. Well, sort of.

He’s admitted taking performance enhancing drugs throughout his career, but still maintains the test that busted him from the Tour de France podium was flawed, and that he never used synthetic testosterone that season.

And in the same breath he names Lance Armstrong a fellow doper.

So this is his strategy—admit to generalized wrongdoing while maintaining innocence in a specific case, and then deflect the attention onto a bigger name in the sport just to make sure your story makes front page news. It’s an interesting twist on the “Express regret but admit no wrongdoing” theory of public relations adopted by so many politicians and celebrities. And it’s a unique way of blaming someone else.

Full disclosure: I’m a long distance cyclist and a real fan of Lance Armstrong, and I find it hard to believe anybody who went through the cancer treatment he survived would intentionally put any harmful substance into his body. The man is driven, out to prove something, making a difference in cancer awareness, and has an incredible work ethic. He’s also arguably the most drug-tested athlete in the world. This is a man whose wife was in labor, and as they were getting into the car to go to the hospital were interrupted by the WADA crew demanding a sample. He’s won lawsuits against people who made doping accusations before, and he’s never failed a drug test. Until I hear otherwise from Lance himself, I believe he’s clean. Everyone else’s accusations are sour grapes.

I was also a great fan of Landis, and this is why I’m so mad: I gave money to his defense fund. I shook his hand and had my photo taken with him. He looked me in the eye and thanked me for my support as he signed my Richardson Bike Mart jersey. I stood in the store—decorated with Tour de France memorabilia given to the owners by their friend and loyal customer Lance Armstrong—and listened to Floyd and his lawyer talk about the case they had against the charges.

And I believed him.

I spoke to a former pro cyclist with knowledge of doping—he’s now battling Multiple Sclerosis—and he said there was no way Landis would have taken testosterone as a one day drug enhancement. He also talked about how the Tour de France’s chain of custody for samples is so bad they could have mixed up a dog urine sample with Floyd’s and never known it. So everything pointed to a setup.

Now it appears those of us who contributed to his $2 million dollar defense fund—cyclists, trainers, bike shop owners, and fans—are the ones who were set up. And the timing–during the Tour de California and Giro d’Italia and the run up to the Tour de France–is suspect as well.

And I’m mad. I’m sure the bike shop owners who organized appearances and loyal fans are mad. The little kids who broke open their piggy banks and gave money for Floyd’s defense are mad. The media are mad. The French are mad (OK, they’re always mad about something). The entire clean portion of the cycling world is mad, because Landis’ accusations cast aspersions on everyone involved, not just those caught, and not just on Lance Armstrong.

Floyd’s PR strategy is working though—he has ensured that whether or not he rides in this year’s big European races, he’ll be the talk of the Tour for a long time. For those who believe there’s no such thing as bad publicity, Floyd is winning without ever getting on a bike.

Some thoughts on my first semester as a full-time “professor.”

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APRLeave a comment

I always thought I’d end up teaching someday, but it’s funny how I backed into it. I now feel comfortable referring to it as my “third career” after first working in television, then in public relations for more than 20 years. I’m grateful to my students for helping me figure out how to teach, and I’m grateful to the Mayborn School of Journalism at UNT (one of my alma maters) for inviting me back to teach again. I think I’ve found my niche, even though I’m working harder, and longer hours, than I have in 15 years or more.

Not since I worked for the Galveston Bay Foundation have I had a job where I feel like I was making a difference. And as I watch what’s happening on the coast with the oil spill, I feel an incredible emotional bond with everyone affected by that spill. It’s tough to be so far away and feel so helpless. But more on that in the next blog.

So, while I’m pretty sure I taught my kids a few things this semester, what did I learn? Oh, so much.

First of all, I learned that I love the kids. They’re bright, they’re energetic, they’re motivated and they’re funny. I’m grateful they didn’t appear to think this old broad was a total dork for trying to be “hip” and relate to them, and I’m glad they seemed to enjoy my PR war stories. I’ve never been one to act my age, and I think they’ve gone a long way toward keeping me young. The kids taught me things about their generation, about the youth culture, and about what’s inside their heads. I really mean it when I tell them I hope they all keep in touch.

Next I learned that my time management skills aren’t what they should be. All the faculty told me the first semester’s the hardest, and I’m sure that’s true. There was a big difference between teaching one graduate level class (with 10 students) and teaching three required heavy writing classes and one capstone ethics class, all with upper-level students. In a few weeks, from contract confirmation to first day of class, I had to read six books (not including the ones I read and rejected for one class), prepare lectures, syllabi, figure out what to put on tests, get an office organized and learn a couple of new computer systems.

I also learned that it takes longer to grade stuff than I ever dreamed possible. Some of that is my fault—I can’t just scribble a few margin notes and put a grade on the page. I need to explain what they did wrong, tell them what I like, and coach them into becoming better writers. I edit the papers, ask questions (“What were you thinking?” and “Do you own a thesaurus?” were two of my favorites) and make the occasional snarky comment designed to show them the error of their ways. The ethics class required ensuring they understood the concepts as well as write about them. I’m so grateful the kids were patient with me when it took too long to return their work.

I learned that Mulberry Street is named for the mulberry trees and it’s not a good idea to park there during the spring. Purple grackle poop is probably not good for car paint.

There were days when I felt like I was only 4 pages ahead of the kids, then a tenured professor told me that happens all the time, even with experience. I’m grateful that I never woke up one morning with no clue what I would teach that day—I’m told that has happened to many busy, experienced professors. Fortunately my decades of professional experience were easy to draw on, too.

I appreciate the kids letting me treat them like young professionals, rather than mere students. As seniors working at internships in PR firms, nonprofits, and large corporations, they ARE pros already, and deserve to be treated as such, but still in need of mentoring and coaching. I collaborated with them, and we learned many things together.

I am eternally grateful to have a husband who, first and foremost, knows his way around the kitchen without a map and second, knows how to do laundry. I would have starved to death and looked like a homeless person without him. (I did lose 15 pounds this semester.)

So it was with some genuine sadness mixed with pride that I attended graduation today, live Tweeting from the faculty rows and cheering on my graduating seniors as they walked across the stage, waving and smiling to family and friends. I’m sad that I won’t see you in my classroom, or hanging out in my office, but proud that I was able to play a small part in your transformation from student to professional.

Please stay in touch, Class of 2010. And remember, punctuation goes INSIDE the quotes.

Pope Benedict’s lesson on strategic communication

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APRLeave a comment

I came home from Sunday Mass today and opened up the Dallas Morning News to this headline: “Pope to Priests: Go forth and blog.”

On the feast day of St. Francis de Sales, the patron saint of journalists and writers, it’s a timely announcement. While I’m the first to admit that John Paul II would be a very hard act to follow, Benedict XVI has shown a remarkable interest in using new media to spread the Gospel, and he has a broad following among youth. The Vatican now has a YouTube channel, a papal Web portal (Pope2You) and an iPhone APP, although I don’t think he’s playing “Farmville” on Facebook.

In his message the Holy Father states that a mere presence on the Web is not enough, and he implied knowledge of strategic communications that I’ve not witnessed from the Vatican before now. It’s almost like he’s taken my “PR Communication” class, in which everyone must have a blog.

In fact, this directive is part of the Pope’s message “The Priest and Pastoral Ministry in a Digital World: New Media at the Service of the Word” announcing the theme of World Communications Day on Sunday May 16.

Now I’m pretty sure the Holy Father isn’t expecting our pastors to replace their homilies with a blog, nor do I see us texting in confession any time soon. But it is encouraging to see the strategic use of social media being endorsed by the leader of the world’s largest Christian denomination. When he says “The increased availability of the new technologies demands greater responsibility on the part of those called to proclaim the Word, but it also requires them to become more focused, efficient and compelling in their efforts” he’s also describing what all communicators should be doing: Targeting the message to the audience and using appropriate tools.

The pope reminds priests (and us) that social media can be used to build “a vast and real fellowship” which is a lesson all of us in the communications field should know and use to the benefit of our clients. The document reminds us that the prophet Isaiah envisioned “…a house of prayer for all peoples” (Is 56:7) and suggests that we can use the Web much as the “Court of Gentiles” was used in the Temple of Jerusalem–as a place “for those who have not yet come to know God.”

While I’m not sure the Holy See would appreciate my secularizing their message, the truth is social media is already being used by marketers and issues managers to build awareness of their products and causes, and to engage a loyal community in fruitful discussion and activism to mutual benefit. Recent tragic events indicate that radical Islamists are already on the Internet bandwagon in order to strategically proselytize and recruit people to their cause. So I think it’s good that the Vatican is taking some cues from the real world and encouraging the use of social media by those on the homefront of spiritual leadership.

Some thoughts on the holidays and the end of the year.

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR2 Comments

First of all, I’m losing my mind over the Associated Press and other news organizations designating all of the “_________ of the decade” distinctions as we come to the end of 2009. The decade isn’t over. When you count to ten, do you start with 0 and end with nine? I didn’t think so. I rest my case. We’ve got another year on the decade. Deal with it. And Lance Armstrong is the athlete of the decade, no matter when it ends.

That said, I’m noticing a little different feeling with the holidays this year. People are cutting back and in the process, focusing on the reason for the season. In the interest of full disclosure, due to our financial implosion of the last couple of years, we’ve scaled back on the holiday spending. And you know what? Life went on. In the process, we focused more on church, on family and friends, and on spiritual development as we await the celebration of the birth of Christ. And the last couple of Christmases have been the best ever.

Last year, we drove to Guanajuato Mexico and celebrated with my Mexican family there, where the focus is on Christmas Eve Mass and family gatherings, rather than presents and fancy decorations and one-upsmanship. We were taken in by a family, participated in a posada (a children’s re-enactment of Mary’s and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem and their search for lodging) and attended the most memorable Christmas Mass of our lives at the glorious Basilica of Our Lady of Guanajuato. The love of our savior and the love for our savior permeated every celebration we attended. We feel blessed to have been embraced by such a wonderful group of people in this most beautiful of Mexican cities.

This year, with Bill in RCIA (the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, which for those of you who are not Catholic, is the process of converting to Catholicism) and us both busy with classes and job searches, as well as dealing with the recent death of his dad, we’ve focused exclusively on the spiritual side of Christmas. I haven’t set foot in a mall, department store, big box store, or gift shop in months. I haven’t bought one present, although I’ve made treats and given them to people I want to share them with. I finally put up the Christmas tree and have the nativity scenes out, but that’s it. And you know what? I feel better about this Christmas than I ever have, because this year, I think we’ve got it right.

Because it’s not about the stuff.

We can buy stuff any time we want. We should reward our friends and loved ones with little gifts and thoughtful acts throughout the year, not just at Christmas and birthdays. We should thank people for their support of us and love for us all year long, not just when society and the media tell us we should. We should tell those people who mean the most to us that they’re special, and an important part of our lives whenever it’s appropriate, not just at holiday time.

In other words, we shouldn’t single out one time of the year to tell people they’re wonderful or to be nice and generous to those less fortunate. We should be this generous, this loving, and this spiritual all year long.

How about that for a 2010 New Year’s resolution? Anybody up for it? I am.

The Greatest Generation just lost another great character

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR1 Comment

My husband’s dad died this morning. It wasn’t completely unexpected—he fell and fractured his pelvis a couple of weeks ago, starting that downhill slide that so many old folks face when they get frail and wobbly. So in some ways, to have him relieved of his suffering in fairly short order is a small comfort, as other family members have lingered on in pain for months.

Russell L. Bufkins was born in Boonville, Indiana January 3, 1920. It’s the same town my dad was born in 5 years earlier—in fact the families knew each other and it was on our first date that Bill and I discovered our common roots in a small coal-mining town on the Ohio River. My dad and Russ’s older brother had many escapades in their youth, and my dad even had pictures to prove it.

Pop, as we knew him, was the only one of the 6 kids to go to college—he earned a master’s degree in Journalism at Indiana University, and worked as a radio newsman before being called up for WWII. The family name was actually Bufkin, but when the Navy misspells your name, that’s what it becomes for life.

Assigned to a minesweeper in San Francisco Bay, Pop learned he suffered from debilitating seasickness, and begged for shore duty of any kind. That’s what launched his storied career as a Navy Public Affairs officer.

He spent a good part of the war at Ulithi Atoll, the south Pacific staging ground for the invasion of Japan. There he met legendary journalist Ernie Pyle, played tennis with Bobby Riggs as part of a USO tour, was given a photo of the Marines raising the flag on Mount Suribachi signed by the photographer Joe Rosenthal, and saved a late night dinner party with a British Admiral by singing Gilbert and Sullivan songs with the Admiral during a storm. Yes, he was quite a character.

In the 1950’s he was the chief PAO at NATO command in Naples, Italy, where he reluctantly staged a fake press conference because a visiting Admiral insisted on it. Knowing there was no news, he filled the room with coached ringers, and more or less bribed an AP correspondent friend to show up. Turns out the Admiral had a major announcement, the AP guy got a huge scoop on the Rome-based press, and Pop was a friend for life.

He did a couple of stints at the Pentagon, one working for Admiral John S. McCain Jr., whom he also coached in tennis. From the stories, the good Admiral wasn’t too easy to coach, especially by a lower-ranking officer. Pop also ran the Navy Book and Magazine office, and knew, or drank with, all the great journalists, screenwriters and authors of that day. His list of media contacts reads like a Who’s Who of the National Press Club in the 1950’s and ‘60’s.

After retiring from the Navy, Pop became national PR Director for the Boy Scouts of America, and helped shepherd their relocation to Irving, Tx in 1979. If you think the Navy is full of PR war stories, you should hear about the Boy Scouts.

Among his accomplishments with the Scouts was creation of the famous ad campaign with distinguished former Boy Scouts—people like President Jerry Ford, baseball great Hank Aaron, and Hollywood legend Jimmy Stewart. Family legend has it that the Boy Scout shirt provided for Pres. Ford didn’t fit, so Pop gave him his, which he then wore home. So I guess you can say Pop gave the shirt off his back to the President!

His years with the Navy and the Boy Scouts took him all over the world, with some interesting adventure stories and many treasures brought home to keep the memories strong.

In the early ‘80s he retired and spent his time researching the family genealogy, including visiting the Bufkin family ancestral estate in County Kent, England. Pretty much everyone named “Bufkin” in the U.S. is decended from that clan. Unfortunately, he never compiled all his research, so that’s something for Bill and me to do in the future.

He ran the Denton Tennis Association for years, was an avid bridge player, and volunteered as coordinator of the book sale at the Denton Library—this resulting in many, many books finding their way home. He enjoyed the concerts, recitals and operas put on by the music school at UNT, and never passed a garage sale without stopping and bringing home some “treasure.”

He was a character, like so many of his generation. Good solid people who won the big war and worked to keep the free world free. He was a great storyteller, and lived a life worth telling.

He joins in heaven his firstborn, Dorothy, who died of leukemia at age 6, and his wife Dorothy Clewlow Bufkins. Russ is survived by his sons Bill and Jim, both of Denton, his younger sister Ruth, many friends and the dog and cats who loved him and made his last months happier and warmer.

Could the recession really be ending?

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR1 Comment

All the talking heads and financial writers are talking about Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke’s recent pronouncement, during the Q&A session after a speech, that the recession is “very likely over.”

Really? Let’s see Seth Myers and Amy Poehler tackle that one on their next SNL Weekend Update Thursday edition.

But then I noticed something. It’s a small thing, but worth mentioning.

Tiffany & Company is once again advertising really expensive bling.

At our house, aging Baby Boomers that we are, we still read the paper in its paper version. We subscribe to the New York Times and the Dallas Morning News seven days a week, and before my husband snatches the front section of The Times I always take a gander at the upper right hand corner of page 3, where Tiffany has had an ad for more than 20 years. (The Speak Up blog wrote about this ad placement in 2006 at http://tinyurl.com/clzo6g.)

It’s a plain black and white photo of a product, with a simple description and the price. Like Tiffany, always elegant and classy. As the economy tanked I noticed they were advertising more of their moderately-priced, less flashy items. And while noting at Tiffany is “cheap” I’m sure it was surprising to some that you can buy a beautiful silver bracelet for $125.

Over the years, the Tiffany ads would alternate between something priced for real people and red carpet-worthy bling of which we mere mortals can only dream. Of course, the Vince Lombardi trophy is showcased on Super Bowl Sunday, and Tiffany also makes the NASCAR trophy, but a year’s worth of ads pretty much has something for everyone.

But as the economy headed south, so did the prices on the items in the ads. Not the prices themselves, but an emphasis on items many people probably didn’t know you could find there. There was a long run of ads for silver charms, tiny heart pendants, and their line of keys in a wide range of prices, interspersed with wedding jewelry in the moderate range. Meanwhile, on the upper part of Page 2 Chanel kept showing off shoes and purses in prices equal to a small used car.

Chanel didn’t get it, Tiffany did.

People crunched by hard times spend what money they have on lasting things. For a birthday or milestone occasion, $100 spent at Tiffany will arguably be a better investment than the same $100 at a garden-variety mall jeweler. A lot of bang for the buck, and when times get better, those customers may return. When it comes in that little blue box tied with a white ribbon, it’s priceless. (I actually re-tied the ribbon around the box my wedding ring came in. Still have it, it’s that special.)

Lately, the pricier items are creeping back into the ad mix. The diamond-crusted watch for $32,000. The red carpet-worthy bracelet of diamonds, platinum and onyx with a six-figure price tag. And today’s $72,000 brooch of Morganite, platinum and diamonds.

I know this isn’t a reliable economic barometer, but I couldn’t help but notice. Bling is back, at least in the ads, and maybe that means the economy is crawling back, albeit slowly.

We won’t know for quite a while if this recession is really “over.” But if anybody sees Ben Bernanke browsing for treats at Tiffany’s, please be sure and Tweet about it.

Recollections of September 11, 2001

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APRLeave a comment

As I sit and watch the drizzle on this quiet Friday I am reminded of what a clear, cloudless day September 11, 2001 was. And I can’t help but reflect back on that day eight years ago that changed us forever.

I was working for a large energy company in Houston, and had gone in to work at 7:00 that morning to get some things finished in the peace and quiet of an empty cubicle maze. Working away silently, I suddenly realized it was nearly 9 am and my cube mates hadn’t shown up yet. Then the phone rang, and it was my husband.

“Two airplanes just crashed into the World Trade Center.” His voice was hushed.

“What? They’re not in the flight pattern. Is the weather bad?” I was thinking a couple of small planes, Cessnas or Piper Cubs, flown by amateur sightseers, not huge passenger jets.

“It’s awful. Get to a TV. I’ve got the Today Show on.”

I rushed to the elevator lobby on my floor, where the TV was always on CNN, and saw my colleagues standing there mouths agape. Because I drove to work before the news broke, I hadn’t heard it on the radio. The rest of them had rushed straight from their cars to the nearest television.

Then someone remembered the storm bunker—an internal room wired with four televisions where we could monitor multiple channels during weather emergencies. Soon we were all huddled in there, watching the spectacle play out on the networks and CNN.

We were all together as a group when the first tower fell.

“Where did it go?” someone uttered under their breath as the tower collapsed in a cloud of dust and smoke. Professional communicators all, none of us could find words at that moment.

There was still work to be done during all this. We were like robots, acting automatically and without emotion. We had to issue requests to employees to minimize Internet usage—so many were on the ‘net getting updates that our business systems were in danger of crashing. There was rumor control to be dealt with. Security had to be beefed up at some facilities. And we hadn’t heard from two executives who were supposed to be at meetings in the World Trade Center that morning. Our CEO was safe in Washington D.C., but would be stuck there for days.

Then the prank bomb threats started coming in to the energy companies in the glass towers of downtown Houston, and offices started closing. The decision was made to send the proverbial “nonessential” employees home—somebody had to stay to keep the energy flowing—but most of us in the PR department stayed, partly because we needed to be sure our executives were accounted for, and partly because we didn’t want to be alone with our thoughts in our cars during an urban evacuation.

The rest of the morning was a haze, despite the clear sunny weather. When the traffic cleared out, most of us decided to leave after noon. The CEO and his wife were comfortably ensconced in the Mayflower Hotel, describing the smoke they could see over the Pentagon, and the constant sound of sirens and military jets. The travel department was patiently explaining (again) to the CEO’s wife that the corporate jet could not bring them back, no matter how important he was. The other two executives had made a long, harrowing hike from lower Manhattan to the first hotel they could find with a vacancy—the Plaza, way up by Central Park. They could only get one room, and our first levity of the day was imagining these two sharing a bed.

Downtown Houston was a ghost town. Police cars, lights flashing, parked in front of every major corporate HQ were the only sign of life. Even the homeless had found shelter. Tumbleweed bouncing down Louisiana Street would not have looked out of place.

I arrived home to find my husband and a friend of ours sitting on the sofa staring at the TV. Our friend was single, with no family in the area. He’d come over because he didn’t want to be alone. They had both been crying.

As we watched replays of the events of the day, I was finally overcome with the emotion I had suppressed while maintaining some semblance of professionalism. I flashed back to November 22, 1963 and finally knew what my parents were feeling when President Kennedy was assassinated. As a third grader then, I knew it was bad but didn’t understand the blank stares, the way people embraced casual acquaintances, or why people wanted to call distant friends and relatives just to touch base and hear a warm, loving voice. Like then, we wanted reassurance that we were safe, and that the world would be OK. That life would go on.

Over the next few days our nerves were often shattered by the sound of fighter jets being scrambled from nearby Ellington Field. We were used to aircraft noise—heck, never really noticed it, until the deafening silence of all aircraft being grounded was punctuated by brave pilots seeking out real or imagined threats. A pair of jets hitting their afterburners in the wee hours reminded us that life would go on, but it would never, ever have the same security we felt on November 21, 1963, or on September 10, 2001.

Copyright 9/11/09 by Samra Jones Bufkins.

We are ALL Special Interests

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR3 Comments

I haven’t posted anything in quite a while, but I’ve had plenty of time to read and listen to the news and am beginning to grow weary of the constant harping about lobbyists and special interests. Maybe it’s because the Texas Legislature is finally finished—until a special session is called—and the lobbyists are now lining up with the campaign contributions from PACs and individuals (corporate contributions are illegal in Texas).

Let’s face it, whichever side of the debate you’re on, the other side is always catering to “special interests,” or so it would seem from the rhetoric. Comments after articles on Web sites, blogs, and in social media forums often include epithets like “I don’t have a lobbyist, why should _______ benefit from a lobbyist?” Even better, “Who’s looking out for the little guy who can’t pay for a lobbyist?”

I’ve got news for those folks—unless they live in a cave, don’t have a job or bank account, never buy insurance or food or gasoline or clothes and don’t belong to any organizations, they’ve got a lobbyist that they are paying for. That lobbyist may or may not be working directly for you (think “insurance companies”) but you’re paying for them just the same.

I was having this discussion with someone over lunch some time ago, and he adamantly insisted that he does not have any lobbyists working for him, that lobbyists only work for special interests and all special interest groups are opposed to everything he is and stands for. The check came, and when he opened his wallet to get his credit card out, I got a glimpse of his National Rifle Association (NRA) membership card, and nearly laughed out loud.

I could quit here, but I won’t. According to the Center for Responsive Politics, the NRA has a lobbying budget in excess of $35 million. This lobbying component includes one million citizen workers at the precinct level—community organizers, if you will, although the NRA calls them “political organizers.” The NRA also spent countless millions on issue advertising during various election cycles. Fortune Magazine has consistently listed the NRA as the most powerful lobby in the nation. They are so powerful that when the National Smokers Association (now the National Smokers Alliance) was formed by Phillip Morris, they adopted the NRA community organizer model.

(By the way, many “grassroots” organizations like the National Smokers Alliance are really “Astroturf” organizations funded by large corporations. If you were in Dallas/Fort Worth during the Wright Amendment debate, you’ll remember the dueling groups funded by Southwest Airlines and American Airlines.)

But let’s not just pick on smokers and shooters. How about old people? As a card-carrying member of AARP, I help to fund a $17 million lobbying effort on behalf of my fellow uh, er, chronologically mature folks.

And then there are we drivers—50 million of us pony up money to AAA for their roadside assistance program (which is getting worse, but that’s a subject for another blog) and unwittingly pay for lobbyists who work for such legislation as wider roads while opposing the Clean Air Act, mass transit systems, automobile airbags, and virtually every state, local and federal proposal aimed at cutting automobile air pollution. (I’m re-thinking my membership.) AAA also pays a huge amount of money into the Highway Users Alliance, an Astroturf organization purported to be working for drivers but is really representing the interests of the cement industry, the large automobile manufacturers, tire companies, bus and truck industry trade groups, and others with a vested interest in keeping the rubber on the road. Because of hidden memberships like this, it’s difficult to find out exactly how much AAA spends on lobbying each year, but it’s undoubtedly a lot of money.

Unless you’ve got your money (what’s left of it after the Crash of 2008) buried in a coffee can in the backyard, you probably use a bank, a credit union or a savings and loan. You probably pay an electric bill and maybe a gas bill, and if you’ve got a car and house you buy insurance. All those companies belong to trade associations which employ lobbyists, and most hire lobbyists directly. While they’ll say they are working for the customer, watch out—it’s not always the case, although I know from personal experience that many of these folks do go to bat for the customer—when it’s in their business’ best interests. (Can you spell ELECTRICITY DEREGULATION?)

If you work for a big company, they have lobbyists, and if you pay into the Political Action Committee (PAC) at that company, you’ll be contributing directly to the checks the lobbyists take to all those fundraisers. They’ll be working for the interests of the company, which theoretically at least will help you out by providing a business climate in which you can keep your job. (Tell that to General Motors and Chrysler workers facing plant closures.)

Now that health care reform is being considered, know that the pharmaceutical companies, doctor’s organizations, hospital trade groups and any company or organization even remotely related to the healthcare industry is getting the wagons in a circle around their position on the issue. If you buy aspirin, have been to a hospital or take a prescription drug (even the $4 WalMart ones) you’re paying for a lobbyist–and they may or may not be working for your position on healthcare reform.

But not all “special interests” are huge mega-organizations, and not all lobbyists work for big firms. There are thousands of organizations with lobbying activities. Pro-life groups (like the National Right to Life) and pro-choice groups all employ lobbyists in addition to producing issue ads around campaign time. And since 1990, computer and Internet interests have contributed more than $185 million to campaigns. So any Internet fees you pay mean you’ve got somebody, somewhere lobbying for that company and the industry.

If you live in a city you are represented in your state capitol and in Washington by representatives from your local council of governments, the Municipal League, and other state and national organizations of cities and municipalities. Small business owners have the National Federation of Independent Businesses (The #2 lobbying group in the US according to the website Top 10 Links). Duck hunters have Ducks Unlimited, birdwatchers the Audubon Society, hikers the Sierra Club, motorcyclists have the National League of Motorcyclists and bicyclists have the League of American Bicyclists. I could go on, and might in a future post, but bottom line—WE ALL PAY FOR LOBBYISTS. So what can we do about it? COMMUNICATE.

If you belong to an organization that employs lobbyists (and that’s easy to figure out via the Internet), communicate with the leadership. Let them know how you feel about the issues they’re addressing, supposedly on your behalf, before your elected officials. If you find out that the organization’s lobbying position is contrary to your personal position, seriously reconsider your membership, and let them know your feelings if you leave.

Yes, lobbyists are working on behalf of special interests, but we must never lose sight of the fact that each and every citizen is, or has, a special interest that we must work to represent. It is not enough to sit back and let others do the talking for us, or worse, complain about those who do the talking.

Never forget our right as citizens to lobby our legislators, whether at the local, state or federal level. Write, call and/or visit your elected officials’ offices as often as possible, and try to talk to the member as well as the staff person in charge of the issue. Insist they listen, and ask plenty of questions about why they feel the way they do about an issue. If you’re intimidated by this process, look at websites with civics instructions, such as http://www.acontrario.org/activism.

And remember, the next time you complain about special interests controlling Washington or Austin or City Hall, YOU are a special interest too.

Surviving that late night comedy show appearance

Samra Jones Bufkins, MJ, APR2 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, after endless promos touting stories about “the cheaper alternative to Botox” on the local 10 pm news, I switched in desperation to Comedy Central. This turned out to be the night Jon Stewart launched into his now-famous tirade against Rick Santelli and CNBC (http://tinyurl.com/aj5u9p) that culminated on March 12 with the mesmerizing smack down between Jon Stewart and CNBC Mad Money host Jim Cramer. I also caught Colbert interviewing a hapless NASA nerd about a satellite naming contest, and immediately became a Comedy Central late night fan.

All this got me to thinking—when did comedy replace “serious” news? And if you’re summoned to appear on one of these shows, how do you prepare? Traditional media training won’t suffice. But more on that later….

Why should public figures appear on late night comedy shows? For one thing, it’s a chance to speak directly to the American people. A study by George Mason University revealed that candidate George Bush actually had more talk time in one appearance on Letterman during the 2000 campaign than from an entire month of the CBS Evening News stories. In this age of targeted campaigning in battleground states, comedy shows are often the only way to reach a national audience. And a study presented at the 2006 annual meeting of the Midwest Political Science Association (http://tinyurl.com/cu75pr ) indicated that late night comedy appearances can actually enhance a candidate’s image in ways that defy conventional wisdom.

But are these viewers the people you want to reach?

A Pew Research Center study released in 2007 (http://tinyurl.com/6knn6k) first measured public knowledge on a variety of issues, from the Iraq war to the Supreme Court to the name of one’s governor. Pew categorized the respondents into three fairly evenly distributed groups it labeled “High Knowledge,” “Medium Knowledge,” and “Low Knowledge.”

Pew also studied knowledge levels by news source, and found that regular viewers of The Daily Show/The Colbert Report had the highest knowledge level at 54%. This tied with regular readers of major newspaper websites, and was slightly above that of viewers of Jim Lehrer, Bill O’Reilly and Rush Limbaugh. Their knowledge levels were way ahead of daily newspaper readers and viewers of broadcast news and CNN.

In other words, viewers of late night comedy shows are not dolts.

I bring this up because while watching Cramer eat crow with Jon Stewart (after making pie with Martha Stewart earlier the same day) and feeling mighty bad for that unprepared NASA stiff, I realized that we need a new category of media training to prepare our clients for: The Late Night Comedy Show Interview.

In that vein, I offer my Twelve Things to consider before appearing on a late night comedy show. Feel free to add yours in the comments below.

1. Don’t think for one nanosecond that “This is only a comedian.” Good comedians are arguably better prepared, quicker thinking and more issue-savvy than many journalists—they have to be, because their audiences expect it. You can’t pull anything over on these folks—they have a whole staff of researchers and writers on their side, working to make them look good and get high ratings. And if the interviewer has recently targeted you for ridicule, he/she will be twice as well-prepared.

2. Show up. And above all, don’t say you’ll be there and then back out at the last minute. Do you want to get treated the way Letterman treated John McCain for weeks and then TO HIS FACE once he did show up? Do you then want the blogosphere and TV reviewers commenting on the comedian’s comments about you? Comedians have a long memory, and video recording methods even longer.

3. Study clips (or transcripts) of the interviewer’s previous mentions of you—monologues, skits, comments at the desk, whatever, to get a feel for what he/she finds odd, funny or controversial. If he/she refers to a particular news story, be sure to read it (or watch it) as well. It can help you anticipate questions and find ways of defending yourself without being confrontational.

4. Check out blogs and reviews of the comedian, especially if he/she has recently gone off on a tirade about you or your organization. Knowing what others are saying about this individual could give you a clue to questions and even provide you defensive ammunition. And while you’re at it, be sure you know what bloggers and the news media are saying about you.

5. Study appearances by other similar guests on that interviewer’s program. If you are a politician, watch clips of other politicians, especially if they are your opponents. If you are a controversial business figure or pundit, watch your peers. If you are an entertainer with “issues” then you better watch interviews with other entertainers in the same boat. Knowing how this interviewer treats people will help you anticipate questions without self-destructing.

6. Be aware of anything you may have said on tape that can be used against you, and don’t ever deny you said something. You could possibly get away with it in the days before tape and digital playback, but not now. You may have to sit there and watch yourself say what you just denied saying, just as Cramer did on Stewart’s show. (http://tinyurl.com/aa59b5 ) Be careful about the “that was out of context” defense too—it comes across as lame, and you may end up watching the tape of the full context.

7. Try also to avoid “I don’t recall saying that” even if you have total amnesia. We’ve seen too many people lie to Congress using that line, and late night audiences, like comedy show hosts, are cynical at best.

8. Be prepared for snappy comments about EVERYTHING. Your outfit. Your hair. Who’s waiting in the greenroom for you. On a comedy show, everything is fair game.

9. Don’t try too hard to be funny. Chances are, the situation that got you invited to be on this show isn’t funny in and of itself. It may even be outrageous or enraging. People can find humor in most anything (except the Holocaust, 9/11 and child molestation) but don’t push it too far. You also don’t want to look like you’re trying to be funnier than the interviewer. He/she is the one that’s getting paid to be funny, not you.

10. You can take your work seriously, but don’t take yourself too seriously. There’s a good chance the interviewer actually finds something to like about you but is attacking the situation you’ve gotten into, or some boneheaded thing you did or said, not you as a person. Letterman had his way with Rod Blagojevich, and the former governor rolled with the punches. (http://tinyurl.com/cjrgjd)

11. Be gracious. Blagojevich was, and Letterman all but called him a liar to his face. Jon Stewart humiliated Cramer, but Cramer remained polite. Thank the host for having you on, even if your first impulse is to run off the set in tears. There will be somebody in the audience (besides your mother) who is actually pulling for you. Don’t tick them off too by being a jerk.

12. And afterwards, don’t have your publicist issue a statement about how you felt ambushed or treated unfairly. And don’t whine to your colleagues about it—Cramer reportedly told colleagues at CNBC he felt “blindsided” by Stewart’s “hostile approach.” (Oh yeah? Hey, Cramer, what made you think he was going to be friendly?)

Remember, the interviewer is a comedian who is usually funny because he/she makes a living pointing out the absurdities in life. They’ve heavily promoted your appearance on the show, are bonded with the audience which will already have an opinion about you and be anticipating some discomfort on your part. It’s become a national pastime to watch the powerful squirm. Don’t act surprised when this happens, and definitely don’t complain about it. That will only provide fodder for the next round of comic jabs and more reasons for bloggers and reviewers and other interviewers to pillory you until somebody else does something worse. And even then it might not stop.

(c) Samra Jones Bufkins 3/17/09.