Jack Germond was the pure newsman. First with the now defunct Washington Star and then with the Baltimore Sun, Germond teamed with Jules Whitcover to produce a daily column on beltway and national politics for almost 25 years. That he was old school in his diligence and method did not mean he was averse to change.
As news became more of a television medium he joined the McLaughlin Group, where he always seemed a bit out of place among a collection that included everything from reporters who favored punditry (Eleanor Clift and Fred Barnes) to wannabe politicians (Pat Buchanan) to self-promoters (Host John McLaughlin and Larry Kudlow). Later, after getting fed up with McLaughlin, he even moved on-line and produced content for the then newborn Daily Beast. Germond always cared about the story, not those reporting it. When he passed away at his home in 2013 at the age of 85, American journalism mourned one of its last print standard bearers, the consummate political reporter.
Back in the late 80s and early 90s Germond could often be found at Laurel Racetrack’s Sports Palace nursing a drink and studying the Racing Form. Being a regular myself, I chatted with him often about the day’s card or upcoming major races like the Derby or Preakness. He was as indiscript as one could be, and although I often fished for his insights about current events, he was far more generous with his views on the feature race than the White House. Yet and still, occasionally, if my question was particularly well thought out and timely, he would reward me with more than a cursory response. Jack Germond reported news the right way, hunting down leads, fleshing out and confirming sources, collecting as much information as possible and simply arranging it to create the story. In short, he was a great newspaper man, who I admired very much. And I am sure he hated the Washington Correspondent’s Dinner.
To Germond, socializing with those his job was to keep honest was a conflict of interest. What it has become, fully on display last night, would have surely seemed an abomination. A lavish Oscaresque gala, celebrating the media and fully consumed by corporate interests, not to mention polluted by politicians, lobbyists and even Hollywood, would have revolted Germond. Yes, I think it’s safe to say he would have despised everything about it….except Michelle Wolf.
Why am I certain Germond would have approved? Because of her honesty. The idea that a prom for the media, held in one of the world’s most cynical cities, underwritten by a collection of corporate entities as a function of their access to both the fourth estate and the government it is meant to keep in check, should have ground rules of propriety for edgy comics they enlist in an effort to demonstrate the media’s irreverence and aloofness is laughable.
With Trump actually spending nearly two hours on the same night proving why the travesty of his election underwrites the argument that the whole charade normalizes and enshrines graft as a norm of our Republic, whining about whose feelings got hurt during a monologue is particularly rich.
Huckabee and Conway want to have it both ways, tough shit; Wolf gave it to them her way. She did nothing different than anyone else at that tired, conflicted soirée – she attended to her agenda. She gave them what for, and now they want an apology? Say what you want about the Clintons, they had the balls, or is it the full lack of shame – whatever – to sit there and take it as a drunken Don Imus went on and on, getting nastier with each delivery.
Trump is too cowardly to take his medicine again after Seth Myers and Obama carved him up the last time he attended. Wolf was a hell of a lot funnier than Imus, and her knife was plenty sharp. Appropriate is not a word that has any application to her duties last night. She mixed her cocktail neat, and served it straight up. Boo hooing about stepping over lines and being nasty could only come from people who can still somehow look in the mirror and not be repulsed by the wretched hypocrite peering back. The only thing I regret about last night is that I haven’t binge watched A Hand Maiden’s Tale yet. BC