I would like to thank Jason for being so accommodating to me and Frank J. Basloe Library this month! I encourage you all to check out 42 Unanswered Points from Frank J. Basloe-as soon as it reopens on May 6, 2012. Also, please "like" Jason's 42 Unanswered Points page on Facebook.
So without further adieu, I present to you a portion of Killer Interview . . .
As
the elevator doors closed before its ascent toward the upper floors of the
Tribune Tower, Kara LeBlanc was wondering why her boss had requested her
immediate presence in his office. Such
requests were not unprecedented, but they were unusual. Kara started to feel guilty pangs inside of
herself, much like a motorist who sees a police officer, instinctively slows
down and feels like a target despite the fact he knows he has done nothing
wrong. “Oh, don’t be silly,” she thought
to herself. Whatever the reason is, it
certainly cannot be anything related to her job performance.
Kara LeBlanc was the most widely
read columnist for The Chicago Tribune. This was quite an accomplishment for someone
who just turned thirty a couple of years ago.
In this case, most widely read did not equate to most popular. A lot of Tribune
readers did not like the opinions that Kara stated or how she went about
expressing them. However, these same
people always read her column to see what she was going to say next. That was just fine with Kara LeBlanc as well
as with the newspaper’s management.
Kara’s columns dealt mainly with her takes on current events, especially
how they may impact a woman’s role in society.
While Kara considered herself a
staunch feminist, she also took extensive measures to present a very feminine
appearance. A fair amount of her income
seemed to go towards an extensive wardrobe of the latest fashions and
accessories, be it shoes, handbags, or jewelry.
The make-up she wore was always of a high-end nature from the most
upscale stores and boutiques. Her
shoulder length, light brown hair had tasteful highlights done by the most
well-known stylist in the city. Her
petite frame was attractively tone and sculpted from her extensive, five-times-a-week
cardiovascular and weight training workouts that would challenge some of
Chicago’s most noted personal trainers.
All of these efforts weren’t enough
to salvage her marriage that ended two years earlier. An inverse relationship developed between her
and her now ex-husband. The more
successful she became in her career, the less fruitful her marriage
became. It came to a point where her
husband asked her to choose between their marriage or her career. Kara scared herself with how quickly and how
easily she made her decision.
As the elevator bell signaled the
conclusion of its upward journey (Kara would have taken the stairs except that
in her high heels, she did not deem it to be practical), Kara discretely
spotted the focus of the other passenger through the polished steel walls of
the elevator car. Too short and too
slender of a build she thought to herself.
Definitely not my type, she thought.
Sorry Charlie, or Tom, Dick, or Harry or whatever your name is.
* * *
“Hey Kara,” boomed the voice of
Jerry Carlisle as he welcomed his star columnist into his office and signaled
her to take a seat in a chair just across from his desk. As he watched Kara walk across the plush
carpet of the room, a few lustful thoughts popped into his mind. “I wonder if she is as passionate and as wild
in bed as she is with her writing? O.
K. Stop it! Time to be professional.” Once Jerry and Kara exchanged greetings, the
National Affairs/Editorials Editor of The
Chicago Tribune got right to the point as was his management style when
there was an issue with one of his reporters or columnists.
“Kara. Before I run all of the editorials off to
press, I just wanted to ask you if you are absolutely sure you want to run your
column tomorrow as-is?”
Kara was a little stunned by her
boss’s query. But that didn’t stop her
from making a passionate response.
“Positively, Jerry. Kevin
Fletcher is nothing but a sexist Neanderthal.
He is completely unprofessional and he treats his guests and his callers
with no respect. His opinions and the
positions he takes on issues are completely out of touch with the rest of
society. Frankly, I can’t believe that
no one else has called him out for the piece of broadcast flotsam that he is.”
It was not very often that Jerry
Carlisle was taken aback by an opinion or a statement made by one of his
subordinates. Actually, it wasn’t the
position itself that surprised him, but in the case the fury and emotion Kara
LeBlanc conveyed with her enraged delivery.
Jerry leaned back in his chair with his elbows on the armrests and the
fingertips of his hands touching each other as they peaked above his
midsection.
“I’ll be frank with you, Kara. You and the other know that I always have the
backs of my columnists and reporters.
Technically, there is nothing factually inaccurate in the column, and
obviously the opinion portions are just that.
As always, you present everything in a manner that is logical and does
an excellent job in stating how you feel.
“It is just that outside of assorted
political figures who certainly had it coming to them, I’ve never seen you go
after someone with such a venomous attitude.”
Kara adjusted herself so that she
was just barely sitting on the front edge of her chair. She felt as if she needed to defend her
column like a mother bear would defend her cubs. “With all due respect Jerry, what seems to be
the problem? Like you said, there isn’t
anything in the column that isn’t true, and it plainly functions as a
reflection of my opinion. What then
seems to be the issue? Why am I here?”
Jerry reassuringly replied, “Given
that you have never gone after someone outside of politics with such a
ferocity, I want to ask you two questions.
“First, what is it you hope to
accomplish with your column? Second, are
you prepared for the backlash that is going to be inevitable? Fletcher has his audience for twenty hours a
week. You have your readers for about
ten to fifteen minutes a week.”
Kara was unfazed by the description
of the forecasted challenge presented by Jerry.
“What he talked about on his show yesterday was reprehensible. It was an insult to women who are involved
with athletics and an insult to women in general.”
Without another comment, Jerry took
the wireless mouse that he used for his laptop computer and manipulated the
cursor so that he could click on the website for the radio station that
broadcasts “The Kevin Fletcher Show.”
The website had links that visitors could click which would bring up broadcasts of all of the radio shows that had
been on the air during the past seven days.
Those who paid for a special subscription to the radio station could in
turn access older broadcasts that were in the archive system. Neither Jerry or Kara had paid the $29.95
subscription rate for such a service.
But that fact was irrelevant as the broadcast that had greatly offended
Kara had taken place the previous day.
Jerry adjusted the settings so that
they could skip the show’s opening comments and commercials. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kara’s
body tense up and saw that her hands were gripping at the arms of her chair as
if she was at the dentist preparing for a shot of Novocain. Soon, they were both listening through the
speakers of Jerry’s computer the voices of Kevin Fletcher and his co-host,
former Chicago Cub second baseman and Hall of Famer Jimmy Santiago. The show was at the point where women’s
athletics was the topic of the moment.
Fletcher’s voice boomed through the speaker, just as it did yesterday
when the station’s 50,000 watts of power distributed the broadcast throughout
the metropolitan Chicago area and seven other states.
“And another thing!” Fletcher
bellowed. “Could someone PLEASE stop the
stupid marketing campaign that is trying to make me feel guilty for not wanting
to watch women’s professional basketball!” . . .
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