Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right

by Michael A Smerconish

  According to the library display, Reagan began making such notations in the 1950s, drawing on the wisdom of diverse figures like Greek playwright Aristophanes, Roman philosopher Cicero, and President John Adams. For 40 years, it was his practice to keep them in a makeshift photo album. The 3-by-5 cards holding his favorite one-liners for dinner speeches and campaign rallies were wrapped with a rubber band and kept in his briefcase.

  Reagan Library executive director John Heubusch told me that the note cards were almost lost to history.

  Back during the Reagan centennial, the 100th anniversary of his birth, I asked our staff here to go in search of material that was not on display here at the library but perhaps find something new and interesting.

  After months of searching they found a box which was not marked in any way, just a brown cardboard box high up on a shelf. In this box was the contents of President Reagan’s last working desk, so it had in it rubber bands and paper clips and things like that you’d find in a desk.

  That box also contained the index cards. Heubusch said:

  What’s very fascinating is that we found the quotations and things he wrote in his own hand later on in many of the most famous Reagan speeches. It was like his treasure trove of ideas and expressions that he wanted to remember his whole life.

  Touring the Reagan Library last week on the eve of the GOP presidential debate, I spied a note card with a line that reminds me of Trump: “Never start an argument with a woman when she’s tired . . . or when she’s rested.”

  Trump violated that sage advice when, in the presence of a Rolling Stone reporter, he spied Carly Fiorina on television and said: “Look at that face. Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?”

  His record of misogyny is well documented. This time, there was a swift response. Fiorina cleverly released a campaign video: “Ladies, look at this face, and look at all of your faces—the face of leadership.”

  And then came the debate. When given the opportunity to respond to Trump’s offensive statement, Fiorina took the high road, saying:

  It’s interesting to me. Mr. Trump said that he heard Mr. Bush very clearly and what Mr. Bush said. I think women all over this country heard very clearly what Mr. Trump said.

  Arguably, Trump’s critique of Fiorina’s appearance elevated her profile, which contributed to the number of questions that came her way. Trump ensured she received more than her share of face time.

  And Trump’s comments about Fiorina are just the type of behavior that causes Reagan’s elder son, Michael, to believe Trump is the least Reaganesque of the lot. Last week he told me:

  Ronald Reagan didn’t attack the people around him. He didn’t demean the people around him. He brought everybody together at the end. If Republicans don’t bring everybody together at the end of the day, we do not win elections.

  We are the smallest bus in the building. We don’t have the ability to throw people off the bus and demean them. We have to figure a way to put people on that bus, and move it forward to Washington, D.C., and I don’t think that Donald Trump is the guy who, in fact, fills the bus.

  Many expected Trump to go after Ben Carson in the debate, but The Donald played nice. Perhaps Carson should also take the tour, and pay attention to another note card in Reagan’s handwriting: “Beware of those who fall at your feet. They may be reaching for the corner of the rug.”

  AFTERWORD

  After reading this column, the famed literary agent/attorney Robert Barnett sent me a book published in 2011, edited by the historian Douglas Brinkley, entitled The Notes: Ronald Reagan’s Private Collection of Stories and Wisdom. I had no idea there’d been an entire book devoted to this subject, but I’m not surprised.

  In the introduction, Brinkley writes: “The reason the Reagan Library calls The Notes a Rosetta stone is that the general public can easily deconstruct from this collection Reagan’s own philosophy.” Brinkley assorts the cards by subject area, including a section titled “Humor,” a series of one-liners that were collected by the Gipper in a fat stack of cards with a rubber band around them. Things like: “Simple diet—if it tastes good, spit it out.”

  The book is a must for any student of Reagan, and for those who take seriously the role of public speaking.

  IN PHILLY, SINATRA AND

  SID MARK PLAY ON

  Philadelphia Inquirer, Sunday, November 29, 2015

  THE MANY PLANNED COMMEMORATIONS for the centennial of Frank Sinatra’s birth on December 12 have already begun. James Kaplan just published the second and final installment of his biography, Sinatra: The Chairman. Tina Sinatra’s book from 2000, My Father’s Daughter: A Memoir, has been reissued. Sinatra 100—An All-Star Grammy Concert will be taped this week in Las Vegas and air December 6. It features Tony Bennett, Garth Brooks, John Legend, and Alicia Keys. And at noon on Sinatra’s birthday, HBO will re-air Alex Gibney’s two-part documentary Sinatra: All or Nothing at All.

  But at the Philadelphia studios of WPHT-AM, Sid Mark doesn’t need a milestone to celebrate Sinatra. It’s something he has been doing since a listener suggested he play a solid hour of Sinatra 59 years ago. Sid never stopped. And in 1979, a syndicated version of his The Sounds of Sinatra was rolled out across the country, airing on 100 stations from coast to coast.

  Sinatra passed in 1998 at age 82. While Sid might be in the autumn of his years, he told me recently that Frank Sinatra Jr. reminded him that his father was in the business 60 years, which Sid took to mean he’s not finished yet.

  “I admire him like an older brother,” Frank Jr. told me last week. “I respect his dedication to doing things in a way he has always done them,” he added, noting that his father was eternally grateful that Sid kept the music going for his radio audience all these years.

  That gratitude was on full display in front of 17,500 people at a sold-out Sinatra show at the Spectrum on November 9, 1991. Old Blue Eyes interrupted the performance to raise his glass to Sid Mark, who looked on with his family. The two had first met at the Sands in Las Vegas in 1966 after Sinatra invited him to be his guest. In Philadelphia, the tuxedo-clad Sinatra first offered a toast in Italian, and then explained:

  That means “I wish for you to live to more than 102 years or 204 years. And I’ll be around looking at you all the time.” I should like to take a moment to introduce to you a friend who has been a friend for as long as I’ve been in this business. That’s been a long time. This guy is some kind of a man. You all know him so well, because he lives among you here, and I should like to have him stand to take a bow. And I speak of the wonderful Sid Mark and his family, who are here this evening. There he is right there. I drink to you, Sidney.

  It’s wonderful to have a friend like Sidney. And I’ve had maybe four or five in my career of people who have stayed with me when things were dark and didn’t change at all whenever anything else changed. And that’s the kind of man he is. And I love him, and I say that publicly. I love him. He’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had in my life. I had a lot of friends, but about three days later they were all gone. I ran out of money. But Sidney is a great man, and he’s absolutely wonderful.

  Jerry Blavat, who was tight with Sinatra and has known Sid since the 1960s, wasn’t at the Spectrum that night. But he did see Sinatra, still clad in his tux, later that evening at Jilly’s Saloon in Manhattan. “I was at the bar with Frankie Valli, and the place was empty,” Blavat said with a laugh. “Fabian was there, too. Well, Frank walked in around midnight and suddenly it was packed.”

  “Sid’s never followed a research chart,” Blavat said of his friend and colleague. “Sid knows all there is to know about Sinatra because he loves Sinatra. He eats, breathes, and lives Sinatra.”

  Joe Piscopo, perhaps best known for his Sinatra impressions on Saturday Night Live between 1980 and 1984, is another fan of both men. Piscopo noted that most who know Sid are listeners who’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him. But for the lucky ones who do, the best is yet to co
me. “Often you hear a person on radio and then meet them and it’s a letdown. But with Sid, knowing him is the icing on the cake,” Piscopo said.

  Today, the former SNL star often headlines casino showrooms doing Sinatra. On the birthday, he’ll be singing Sinatra with a full orchestra at the Sands in Bethlehem. But for Sid, he was once willing to play a restaurant in South Philly.

  Backstage at Harrah’s Casino in Atlantic City in November 2006 with Frank Sinatra Jr. (center) and Sid Mark (right) on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of Sid’s Sinatra-centric radio program.

  Photo courtesy of Sid Mark.

  Four years ago, on Sid’s 55th anniversary, he asked Piscopo to sing Sinatra at Galdo’s, a catering hall on West Moyamensing Avenue. Piscopo had a scheduling conflict with a family wedding. He said:

  My cousin Pauly from Jersey said, “You have to be at my daughter’s wedding.” Then Sid invited me to sing Sinatra. The only way I could make it work was to take a helicopter from one to the other. Only for Sid would I sing Sinatra in a restaurant and then take a helicopter to a wedding. And Sid got the City Rhythm Orchestra to play with me and the night was magical.

  Frank Jr. has often sat in Sid’s studio, marveling as he applied his trade. He said:

  Sid as a broadcaster is old-fashioned, old-school. He’s . . . incensed at the thought of making music on a computer. He now uses CDs, but he’s still “jockeying discs”—most in radio never even heard the expression.

  Junior credits Sid’s wife, Judy, as Sid’s inspiration—she has been the lady who never left her escort.

  That night at the Spectrum, after Sinatra toasted Sid Mark, Old Blue Eyes introduced a song by Rodgers and Hart telling the crowd, “We all know of these songs, because I don’t do anything that’s new, because there’s nothing new.”

  It’s the same with Sid.

  AFTERWORD

  As I write this, Sid Mark has recently celebrated his 60th anniversary and is still going strong on the radio. My friend Mike Baldini, who emceed the latest anniversary show, told me that Joe Piscopo again performed for Sid and was great, but that Bobby Rydell stole the show. I called Sid to congratulate him on his continued success, and after our long chat, he sent me an e-mail: “Just googled LOYAL FRIEND and your photo came up. . . . Thanks for always being there.” That’s the highest praise!

  In this column, I reference my own participation at Sid’s 55th anniversary, but I do not detail the speech I wrote and delivered, of which I am quite proud. I worked hard to incorporate Sinatra lyrics into my tribute. I worry that my delivery was off that night, and I welcome the opportunity to present my words here:

  It seems we’ve stood and talked like this before. We looked at each other in the same way then, but I can’t remember where or when.

  Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Proposing a toast to Sid Mark is no easy task. I’ve struggled with how to sum up 55 years. And my solution is to get a little help from Mr. S.

  Not that I don’t have original thoughts of my own.

  You’d never know it, but, buddy, I’m a kinda poet and I got a lot of things I want to say.

  Truth be told, I have known Sid Mark all my life.

  Like you, I knew Sid Mark before I met him. He was a constant presence, a fifth member of our family at 24 Mercer Avenue in Doylestown.

  I don’t know if the first time we were introduced was in the living room. Dining room. Kitchen. It might even have been the bathroom. Because Sid was everywhere.

  And he was always with us. He was with us on Fridays. He was with us on Sundays. He was there on birthdays. Happy occasions. Sad events. And all the holidays. Thanksgiving. Christmas.

  I remember when Sid introduced us to Sinatra: The Main Event, in 1974. We bought the album. It played so often that at age 12, I memorized Howard Cosell’s remarkable introduction of Mr. S.:

  Live from New York, a city whose landmarks are familiar all over the world. . . .

  Sid made me a Sinatra fan in my teens.

  In fact, when I was 17, it was a very good year.

  Sinatra came to the Valley Forge Music Fair and my parents sent my brother and me to the concert as birthday gifts.

  Over the years, Sid inspired me to see Frank in concert several times. Including at an outdoor amphitheater at the old Golden Nugget. I will always remember that August night.

  The summer wind came blowin’ in from across the sea.

  My appreciation for Sid and Sinatra continued through college.

  Their relationship became a backdrop for some of my relationships. I finally figured out what Frank was singing about.

  When I was 21, it was a very good year. It was a very good year for city girls.

  But I’m not going to get into that here.

  Ultimately I was introduced to Sid Mark when we worked together at the old 96.5FM, WWDB, The Talk Station.

  I guess when you met me, it was just one of those things.

  Am I right?

  You came along and then everything started to hum.

  We’ve been friends ever since. Over the years we’ve seen many changes in our biz, Sidney. We share one another’s perspective on much of what we’ve witnessed.

  Some of it . . . it’s witchcraft, wicked witchcraft. And although I know it’s strictly taboo. . . .

  Enough said.

  Sid’s voice and all of our memories are inseparable. He has no equal in broadcasting. I can’t remember a time in my life when he wasn’t present. Radio without Sid Mark?

  Then I’d rather, rather have nothing at all.

  I’d like to hear more of him. To see more of him.

  I get a kick every time I see you standing there before me.

  And I know this audience feels the same. Look at us here at Galdo’s.

  Strangers in the night, exchanging glances.

  This is a special crowd. All fans of Sid Mark.

  My kind of people, too. People who smile at you.

  Speaking of which, there is one other person in this room who deserves acknowledgment.

  Sid’s wife, Judy.

  A lady never leaves her escort.

  She’s been at his side all these years—sharing Sid with Angie. Maybe Ava, too.

  So let us toast our friend. Even though I know what he will say.

  Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all.

  Sidney—3 things:

  It had to be you, wonderful you, it had to be you.

  The best is yet to come.

  King of the hill. Top of the list. Head of the heap. King of the hill.

  And finally,

  Drink up all you people. Order anything you see. And have fun, you happy people. The laughs and the drinks are on Sidney.

  To Sid Mark.

  TRUMP’S CANDIDACY

  IS RIGHT OUT OF SEINFELD

  Philadelphia Inquirer, Sunday, March 13, 2016

  DONALD TRUMP’S SUCCESS as a presidential candidate is both surprising and easily explained.

  He’s questioned the heroism of a former POW and standard bearer of his own party. Fought Fox News and its most ascendant star, including questioning her menstrual cycle. Picked a fight with the pope over immigration. Mocked a disabled reporter. Incorrectly cited a Bible verse while courting evangelical Christians. Promised to be an honest broker in the Middle East instead of reflexively siding with Israel. Refused to release his tax returns. Conducted news conferences while accepting victory on primary election nights. And assured us of the size of his manhood.

  In every instance imaginable, Trump has done the opposite of what is expected of a presidential candidate, making him the George Costanza of the 2016 cycle!

  Seinfeld fans will surely recall what happened in Season Five after an exasperated George walked into Monk’s Cafe and told Jerry: “It’s not working, Jerry, it’s just not working. Every decision I’ve made has been wrong. My life is the complete opposite of everything I wanted to be.”

  Replied Jerry: “If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite w
ould have to be right.”

  Immediately thereafter, after spying an attractive blonde seated at the lunch counter, George approached and delivered a line that is now part of Seinfeld lore: “My name is George. I’m unemployed and I live with my parents.”

  “The Opposite” episode was the brainchild of Abington native Andy Cowan, who shares writing credit on the script with Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld. He too sees the parallels between George’s willingness to criticize George Steinbrenner while applying for a job with the Yankees and Trump’s temerity to confront Roger Ailes’s oracle of the GOP, Fox News. Cowan said:

  What’s interesting is that instead of focusing on the electorate, the people, the country, Trump decided to do the opposite, focus on himself, his amazing ego, his amazing polls, the amazing size of his no longer private parts, and who wasn’t very nice to him. He’ll come out during a debate and say, “Thank you, Thank you!” as if it’s a personal appearance, all about him. They called the ’70s the me decade. If Trump gets in, it’ll be the I-I, me-me decade.

  Cowan is quick to cite additional instances where Trump’s campaign style has been replete with Costanza-like opposites: a lack of policy specifics, no TelePrompTer, the spouting of the same stream of lazy catchphrases. And he notes that it has also induced the media to do the opposite of what would have been heretofore unlikely: cover him wall to wall as if it were news.

  “Two other walls Mexico won’t pay for,” he quipped.

  The man who has written for Cheers, Seinfeld, and 3rd Rock from the Sun, and has authored the late 2016 scheduled release, Banging My Head against the Wall: A Comedy Writer’s Guide to Seeing Stars, began his Hollywood career in the ’80s as talent coordinator, writer, and performer on The Merv Griffin Show. He remembers well the origin of the legendary Seinfeld script.

  I was pitching stories to Larry David left and right, and there was a bra story that he liked, and I still love to this day, about George finding a lost bra in a dryer, a huge lost bra, and then trying to find the woman who owned it, almost like a glass slipper. Until Kramer convinces him it looks more like a grandmother’s bra.