“DAVID wrote a VIDEO! For the PRESIDENT!”
Even this accomplishment was short-lived, however. For all the effort I put into my script, something had been missing, and Fox News found it. It was remarkable how quickly they worked. The first headline was up before the turkey was even carved: OBAMA LEAVES GOD OUT OF THANKSGIVING ADDRESS. “Nowhere in the 11-paragraph address does he mention the Almighty,” the article said.
By any fair measure, this was nonsense. The president had used the word “blessing” in his video. Who did Fox News think was handing out those blessings? Oprah? But the damage had been done. Right-wing media had ginned up a controversy, and respectable news outlets now felt free to cover it. OBAMA LEAVES GOD OUT OF THANKSGIVING SPEECH, RILES CRITICS, read the headline on ABC News.
I returned to work Monday expecting to be widely shunned. To my surprise, nearly all of my speechwriting colleagues had a Fox News story of their own. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” they said. But my coworkers’ graciousness couldn’t mask the fact that I had failed. I wanted to do something for my country. I wanted to be friends with Obama. I was no closer to either goal.
If I ever got a second chance, I promised myself, I wasn’t going to squander it.
To my surprise, the opportunity came just a few weeks later. I was sitting in my office when Favs called. “Betty White is turning ninety years old,” he explained. “NBC is doing this special where famous people wish her a happy birthday, and you’re pretty funny, and no one else wants to do it. Want to give it a shot?”
Of course I did. This was my Gettysburg Address.
The taping was on Friday, and we had a week to make things perfect. Jon and I started by coming up with a joke. As the president signed a birthday card, the audience would hear his message as a voice-over:
Dear Betty, you’re so young and full of life, I can’t believe you’re turning ninety. In fact, I don’t believe it. Please send a copy of your long-form birth certificate to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.
Step two was to purchase the card itself. There was a CVS a half block from the White House. I studied their Hallmark display as carefully as a homicide detective at a crime scene. Then, just when I was about to make my purchase, I had a stroke of genius. We were going to film the president twice, from two different camera angles. But during the second shot, we couldn’t let anyone see that he had already written his birthday note. In other words, we didn’t need just one card. We needed two!
Yes! I thought. This is how White House staffers are supposed to feel.
I proudly returned to my office, certain I had saved the day, and began working on the final joke for the skit. Finally, I came up with something. As the video ended, President Obama would put in headphones. Then he’d pretend to listen to the theme song from The Golden Girls, Betty White’s most popular show.
As the week drew on, I practiced explaining the joke to the president. I found the perfect headphones, a pair of white earbuds that would look great on camera. I listened to the Golden Girls theme song on repeat, just to get in the mood. By the time Friday dawned, I was brimming with confidence.
Then came the phone call. “All right, head on over to the West Wing.”
Perhaps there are some people who, summoned to the Oval Office for the very first time, walk in there like it’s no big deal. Those people are sociopaths. For the rest of us, attending your first Oval Office meeting is like performing your own bris.
To make matters worse, when you have a meeting in the Oval Office, you don’t just go into the Oval Office. First you wait in a tiny, windowless chamber. It’s kind of like the waiting room in a doctor’s office, but instead of last year’s Marie Claire magazines they have priceless pieces of American art. And instead of a receptionist, there’s a man with a gun. And in a worst-case scenario, the man with a gun is legally required to kill you.
It turns out this little room is the perfect place to second-guess every life choice you have ever made. As Hope Hall, the videographer, joined me on the small couch, I silently approached a nervous breakdown. Did I remember how to explain the concept? Did I have both cards? Were the headphones still in my pocket? How about now? How about now? I was on the verge of losing it completely when one of the president’s personal aides emerged.
“Okay. He’s ready for you.”
To my credit, the first time I walked into the Oval Office, I did not black out. In front of me I could see a painting of the Statue of Liberty by Norman Rockwell. Behind me, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Emancipation Proclamation. Not a photocopy or poster. The. Emancipation. Proclamation. I didn’t turn to look at the document, but I could feel the message it was sending through the room.
“I’m here because I freed the slaves,” it seemed to say. “What are you doing here?”
Behind the giant, wooden Resolute desk sat President Obama. Judging from his expression, he, too, might be wondering what I was doing here. But I wasn’t worried. I had spent an entire week practicing how to explain this video. I stepped forward. I opened my mouth to speak. And face-to-face with the leader of the free world, what came out sounded like an exchange student about to fail an exam.
“Betty White?!” I heard myself say. “Card and . . . birthday? Sing song theme Golden Girls headphones video, yes please?”
President Obama looked confused. Hope jumped in, rescued me, and began filming, but I nonetheless felt concerned. This was my chance to show the president that I was a consummate professional. In my professional opinion, we weren’t off to a great start.
Still, I knew I had another opportunity: my second birthday card. I was about to show the leader of the free world that I had saved the day. As soon as Hope captured her first shot, I strode to the desk, surprising even myself with my confidence.
“Mr. President, we’re about to film a second shot from a different angle, but we want it to look like you’re writing your birthday greeting for the first time,” I explained, reaching into my jacket. “I’ll need to take that birthday card and replace it with this identical one.”
President Obama cocked his head. “We’re shooting from all the way on the other side of the room?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So no one can actually see inside the card.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“So, I can just pretend to write in the card I have now. I don’t need a second one at all?”
“Yes . . . that’s right.”
I returned the backup card to my pocket. Strike two.