The Founding Father's must be so proud of their revolutionary fruits.
There are rules when you meet the King of America.
#1 - You don't speak to the King unless spoken to.
#2 - You don't speak of things he's not prepared to respond to.
#3 - You don't correct, interrupt or ever do your job.
#4 - And finally, there will be consequences to your colony for any infraction made on your behalf.
Ireland: I wanted to slap him
TimesOnline
The Sunday Times
October 9, 2005
George W Bush was so upset by Carole Coleman’s White House interview that an official complaint was lodged with the Irish embassy. The RTE
journalist explains why the president made her blood boil.
With just minutes to go to my interview with George W Bush, I was escorted to the White House library, where a staff member gave instructions
on how to greet the president: “He’ll be coming in the door behind you, just stand up, turn around and extend your hand.”
Then it gets really creepy. Read the whole thing if you've the stomach for this sort of thing. The consummate "common man" actor totally out of
character, coming clean and melting down up against a commoner gal that just doesn't know her place lapping at the King's feet. But the nasty
punitiveness
after the interview tells more than any soft ball interview to date.
“Mr President, thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, still half-smiling and half-frowning.
It was over. I felt like a delinquent child who had been reprimanded by a stern, unwavering father. My face must have been the same colour as my suit.
Yet I also knew that we had discussed some important issues — probably more candidly than I had heard from President Bush in some time.
I was removing my microphone when he addressed me.
“Is that how you do it in Ireland — interrupting people all the time?”
I froze. He was not happy with me and was letting me know it.
“Yes,” I stuttered, determined to maintain my own half-smile.
I was aching to get out of there for a breath of air when I remembered that I had earlier discussed with staff the possibility of having my picture
taken with the president. I had been told that, when the interview was over, I could stand up with him and the White House photographer would snap a
picture. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, I stood up and asked him to join me.
“Oh, she wants the photograph now,” he said from his still-seated position. He rose, stood beside me and put an arm around my shoulder. Taking his
cue, I put an arm up around his shoulder and we both grinned for the cameras.
In my haste to leave I almost forgot the tapes and had to be reminded by the film crew to take them. I and my assistants bolted out to the street. We
ran, high heels and all, across Lafayette Park. Running through rush-hour traffic, I thought that this had to be about as crazy as a journalist’s
job gets.
I had just been admonished by the president of the United States and now I was turning cartwheels in order to get the interview on air. As I dashed
past a waste bin, I had a fleeting urge to throw in the tapes and run home instead.
At the studio I handed over the tapes. My phone rang. It was MC, and her voice was cold.
“We just want to say how disappointed we are in the way you conducted the interview,” she said.
“How is that?” I asked.
“You talked over the president, not letting him finish his answers.”
“Oh, I was just moving him on,” I said, explaining that I wanted some new insight from him, not two-year-old answers.
“He did give you plenty of new stuff.”
She estimated that I had interrupted the president eight times and added that I had upset him. I was upset too, I told her. The line started to break
up; I was in a basement with a bad phone signal. I took her number and agreed to call her back. I dialled the White House number and she was on the
line again.
“I’m here with Colby,” she indicated.
“Right.”
“You were given an opportunity to interview the leader of the free world and you blew it,” she began.
I was beginning to feel as if I might be dreaming. I had naively believed the American president was referred to as the “leader of the free world”
only in an unofficial tongue-in-cheek sort of way by outsiders, and not among his closest staff.
“You were more vicious than any of the White House press corps or even some of them up on Capitol Hill . . .The president leads the interview,”
she said.
“I don’t agree,” I replied, my initial worry now turning to frustration. “It’s the journalist’s job to lead the interview.”
It was suggested that perhaps I could edit the tapes to take out the interruptions, but I made it clear that this would not be possible.
As the conversation progressed, I learnt that I might find it difficult to secure further co-operation from the White House. A man’s voice then came
on the line. Colby, I assumed. “And, it goes without saying, you can forget about the interview with Laura Bush.”
Clearly the White House had thought they would be dealing with an Irish “colleen” bowled over by the opportunity to interview the Bushes. If
anyone there had done their research on RTE’s interviewing techniques, they might have known better.
MC also indicated that she would be contacting the Irish Embassy in Washington — in other words, an official complaint from Washington to Dublin.
“I don’t know how we are going to repair this relationship, but have a safe trip back to Ireland,” MC concluded. I told her I had not meant to
upset her since she had been more than helpful to me. The conversation ended.
By the time I got to the control room, the Prime Time broadcast had just started. It was at the point of the first confrontation with the “leader of
the free world” and those gathered around the monitors were glued to it. “Well done,” someone said. “This is great.”
I thought about the interview again as I climbed up the steps to RTE’s live camera position at Dromoland Castle to account for myself on the 6pm
news next day. By now the White House had vented its anger to the Irish embassy in Washington. To make matters worse for the administration, the
interview had made its way onto American television and CNN was replaying it around the world and by the end of the day it had been aired in
Baghdad.
Had I been fair? Should I just have been more deferential to George Bush? I felt that I had simply done my job and shuddered at the thought of the
backlash I would surely have faced in Ireland had I not challenged the president on matters that had changed the way America was viewed around the
world.
How deaf, blind and dumb do you have to be to still think this aristocrook represents truck drivers, waitresses, Christians, southerners, country
music fans, blue-collar workers, taxpayers, and family types?
No really? How deaf, blind and dumb?
[edit on 9-10-2005 by RANT]
Joshing ya dude. 
