“I Don’t Like How You Look”

“Idon’t like how you look,” the moderator sneered.

We were on the second of two scheduled breaks in the panel discussion that my graduate school was hosting with journalistic icons Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. The breaks were mainly to allow the university television station, which was carrying the program live, to run its mandated station IDs and public service announcements. The moderator, however, was using it to line up the lucky students who would ask questions at the top of the final segment.

A dozen of us had been selected to sit on stage throughout the program. After spending the first 45 minutes as glorified stage dressing, we were eager to participate in the conversation when he finally opened the floor halfway through the second segment. As you might imagine, every question begat illuminatingly detailed answers and priceless stories from Woodward and Bernstein. So, as the second segment closed, most of us still had our hands up, yet to weigh in.

“I’m coming to you out of the break,” he told John, a clean-cut military type in the print journalism program. “Then I’m coming to you, and you,” he continued, pointing to two other print students. As the only person on stage representing the broadcast side of the house, I had promised my television production professor that I would represent for our program. I had several killer questions loaded and ready to fire.

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