I resisted the temptation of titling this post, ”A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss.” But I am still using the trite phrase because it’s true. The magazine has been around for more than four decades. And the article that resulted in yesterday’s resignation of General Stanley McChrystal as commander of troops in Afghanistan is not the first time Rolling Stone has caused Washington heads to roll—or at least flinch.
Although most of Rolling Stone’s readership is less than half my age, I used the magazine as a background reference many times in gathering information for investigative stories I tackled. Indeed, an article printed a few years ago in the publication is part of the material I’ve accumulated in connection with a possible book length investigation I am working on(the topic to be revealed in the future).
The downside of Rolling Stone is it reminds me of my age. Lady Gaga graces the cover of the same issue that has created the McChrystal furor. I know she is a performer, but ignorant of what she performs. I’m still in the age of early rock and roll. More traumatic in making me aware of age is the fact that my only encounter with one of the magazine’s star writers occured when he was eight years old. Matt Taibbi’es father, Mike, is an old friend and former colleague in the late 1970’s when I headed the investigative unit at Boston’s ABC affiliate. Mike is currently an NBC correspondent.
One of the memories Mike and I share is a puzzling invitation extended to us and our wives for a party at the home of a top station executive—a Harvard graduate, who was the quintessential preppie. I describe the invitations as puzzling because we were the only station peons invited. Believing it would be a casual get together, we dressed for such an occasion. Instead, it was a formal dinner party of Boston blue-bloods, complete with designated seating. Mike, our wives and I squirmed uncomfortably while listening to conversations about who should be appointed to the Board of Trustees of Wellesly College and other subjects in which our give-a-shit factor was infinitesimal. I told Mike afterwards that I was tempted to ask the matrons on either side of me, “Ladies, do you fart after eating pork’n beans?”
Anyway, back to Rolling Stone. As stated in the Howard Kurtz article I cited earlier in this missive, the success of the magazine’s in-depth reporting is the freedom given writers with respect to length and language. Matt Taibbi, for example, sprinkles his story with the “F” word and other obscenities—presumably to emphasize points for his under-30 readership. Certainly, the women at the aforementioned dinner party would find such language offensive. Then again, I’m jumping to a conclusion. New Yorker, the magazine of sophisticated society, periodically carries episodes in its Shouts & Murmurs section, titled The Cursing Mommy—the most obscene and funniest feature I can recall reading in the publication.
Language aside, Rolling Stone articles are important because they are well-researched and give context to issues. The publisher has been a strong supporter of President Obama, as well as a campaign contributor. Yet, the magazine does not spare him from scrutiny. Taibbi has done some of the best reporting in exposing the duplicity and missteps of the Obama administration. Fortunately, he and other Rolling Stone writers have a venue to fulfill the obligation of journalists in an era of superficiality.
With the exception of the PBS Frontline documentary series, television has pretty much abandoned that obligation. As much as I like to brag about my awards and success as an investigative reporter, I know that I was only as good as my employers commitment to in-depth journalism. In Baton Rouge, particularly, I was given the kind of freedom that astonished television reporters throughout the country. One-hour investigative documentaries without commercial interruption were unheard of in TV broadcasting.
At the beginning of my ten years as CNN’s Senior Investigative Correspondent, I was optimistic that I would receive the same kind of commitment in a national forum. That’s why I took another network job after spending seven years in muckraking paradise. But it was not to be. I was an old guy in an environment that gradually began targeting a young audience. Not too successfully, if current ratings are any measure. In the wake of General McChrystal’s resignation, I find it ironic that young guys are now influencing an older generation.
Maybe it’s time for all of us AARP dudes to learn about Lady Gaga.
My memoir, Odyssey of a Derelict Gunslinger, is available at amazon.com and independent bookstores. It offers much more than $19.99 worth of laughs. The book is an account of my illustrious (I choose the adjectives) career.
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