defector or someone going to the Safeway to buy a National Enquirer .”
“How did the Russians become the number one good guys so soon after they were the number one bad guys?”
“It is easy, because Bush can get Vladimir Putin on the phone anytime he wants to—but Osama bin Laden never returns his calls.”
Dinner at the Darbys’
I WAS HAVING DINNER at the Darbys’ when Sheila Darby said, “Guess what Caroline wants to be when she grows up?”
We all looked at Caroline, who is sixteen years old. She said, ‘I want to be a whistleblower.”
“That’s an honorable profession,” I said. “But you have to work hard to catch a person who is up to no good.”
“That’s what I told her,” her father, Joe, said. “You have fifteen minutes of glory and then you can’t find a job.”
Caroline said, “Sherron Watkins of Enron is my role model. All the girls at school think she is fantastic.”
I said, “Whistleblowers have come into their own ever since Sherron spilled the beans. But no one at Enron backed her up. Whistleblowing is a very lonely business.”
Joe said, “I don’t want TV cameras on my lawn all day and all night.”
Caroline said, “That’s the part I like the most. I could be interviewed on the Today Show , and Good Morning America , and by
Tom Brokaw. He could say I was a member of the Greatest Generation.”
Sheila said to Caroline, “If you’re going to be a whistleblower you’re going to need a decent education. No one is going to believe you if you don’t have a college degree.”
Joe said, “There are corporate whistleblowers who report on their bosses stealing from the pension fund. No one in the company will talk to them at the water cooler anymore.”
Caroline asked, “How do I practice being a whistleblower?”
I suggested, “For starters, you could snitch on your fourteen-year-old brother Tommy.”
Caroline said, “I saw him smoking a cigarette outside Tyson’s Corner mall.”
I said to the Darbys, “She’s a natural whistleblower.”
Tommy was angry and yelled at Caroline, “I was not and you know it!”
Joe said, “If I were you, Tommy, I’d take the Fifth Amendment.”
Caroline said, “By the time I grow up, Sherron Watkins will have used up her 15 minutes.”
I replied, “Not necessarily. Don’t forget she has a book to write and her story will be made into a TV movie.”
Joe complained, “That means we’ll have to give up all our privacy. Sherron Watkins may be a very successful whistleblower, but there are thousands of tattle-tales whom you have never heard about. They lost their jobs and their health insurance.”
Sheila said, “I like what Caroline wants to do. If she can find a crooked accountant or a smarmy lawyer to rat out when she grows up we should encourage her.”
Tommy said, “I would rather be a crooked accountant. You make more money.”
Caroline told him, “If you were, I would send you to jail.”
Tommy retorted, “Says who?”
I interrupted and said, “I would rather have a whistleblower than a crooked lawyer in the family.”
Sheila said, “Wouldn’t we all?”
Book Flogging
I FLEW DOWN to the Broward Public Library in Fort Lauderdale, Florida to do a book signing for a paperback I wrote.
Over the years I have done thousands of book-signings (well anyhow, quite a few). It’s even tougher than writing a book. Sandy Vanocur once told me, “You know you’ve been on the road too long when you’ve run out of quarters for the vibrating bed in your motel.”
I have had many adventures in my book-signing career. One of my favorites was when I went to a department store in Rochester. The books were set up in the lobby. By accident I received a copy of the instructions for the staff.
One employee was assigned to make sure the books were there. Another supplied the ice water. A third person was in charge of supplying the pens.
The last assignment on the list had to do with security. Written next to it was the
“How did the Russians become the number one good guys so soon after they were the number one bad guys?”
“It is easy, because Bush can get Vladimir Putin on the phone anytime he wants to—but Osama bin Laden never returns his calls.”
Dinner at the Darbys’
I WAS HAVING DINNER at the Darbys’ when Sheila Darby said, “Guess what Caroline wants to be when she grows up?”
We all looked at Caroline, who is sixteen years old. She said, ‘I want to be a whistleblower.”
“That’s an honorable profession,” I said. “But you have to work hard to catch a person who is up to no good.”
“That’s what I told her,” her father, Joe, said. “You have fifteen minutes of glory and then you can’t find a job.”
Caroline said, “Sherron Watkins of Enron is my role model. All the girls at school think she is fantastic.”
I said, “Whistleblowers have come into their own ever since Sherron spilled the beans. But no one at Enron backed her up. Whistleblowing is a very lonely business.”
Joe said, “I don’t want TV cameras on my lawn all day and all night.”
Caroline said, “That’s the part I like the most. I could be interviewed on the Today Show , and Good Morning America , and by
Tom Brokaw. He could say I was a member of the Greatest Generation.”
Sheila said to Caroline, “If you’re going to be a whistleblower you’re going to need a decent education. No one is going to believe you if you don’t have a college degree.”
Joe said, “There are corporate whistleblowers who report on their bosses stealing from the pension fund. No one in the company will talk to them at the water cooler anymore.”
Caroline asked, “How do I practice being a whistleblower?”
I suggested, “For starters, you could snitch on your fourteen-year-old brother Tommy.”
Caroline said, “I saw him smoking a cigarette outside Tyson’s Corner mall.”
I said to the Darbys, “She’s a natural whistleblower.”
Tommy was angry and yelled at Caroline, “I was not and you know it!”
Joe said, “If I were you, Tommy, I’d take the Fifth Amendment.”
Caroline said, “By the time I grow up, Sherron Watkins will have used up her 15 minutes.”
I replied, “Not necessarily. Don’t forget she has a book to write and her story will be made into a TV movie.”
Joe complained, “That means we’ll have to give up all our privacy. Sherron Watkins may be a very successful whistleblower, but there are thousands of tattle-tales whom you have never heard about. They lost their jobs and their health insurance.”
Sheila said, “I like what Caroline wants to do. If she can find a crooked accountant or a smarmy lawyer to rat out when she grows up we should encourage her.”
Tommy said, “I would rather be a crooked accountant. You make more money.”
Caroline told him, “If you were, I would send you to jail.”
Tommy retorted, “Says who?”
I interrupted and said, “I would rather have a whistleblower than a crooked lawyer in the family.”
Sheila said, “Wouldn’t we all?”
Book Flogging
I FLEW DOWN to the Broward Public Library in Fort Lauderdale, Florida to do a book signing for a paperback I wrote.
Over the years I have done thousands of book-signings (well anyhow, quite a few). It’s even tougher than writing a book. Sandy Vanocur once told me, “You know you’ve been on the road too long when you’ve run out of quarters for the vibrating bed in your motel.”
I have had many adventures in my book-signing career. One of my favorites was when I went to a department store in Rochester. The books were set up in the lobby. By accident I received a copy of the instructions for the staff.
One employee was assigned to make sure the books were there. Another supplied the ice water. A third person was in charge of supplying the pens.
The last assignment on the list had to do with security. Written next to it was the
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