Richard Johnson, PageSix, NYPost
su-t...@webtv.net
Is there a bio about this guy on the net? And a picture?
His gossip info isn't proving credible.
Also, who owns & controls the New York Post, & thereby employs Johnson?
Thanks.
Susan, Su_Texas my opinions
Kris Baker
<su-t...@webtv.net> wrote in message
news:23937-41...@storefull-3132.bay.webtv.net...
Rupert Murdoch and his NewsCorp, which also own Fox News.
Kris
>
su-t...@webtv.net
Rupert Murdoch and his NewsCorp [own New York Post & PageSix], which
also own Fox News.
===============
Hmmm.
Does he own the FOX channel as well, or have an interest in it?
FOX sometimes shows CSI episodes (possibly old ones) here, at 9 PM
Central.
Does FOX have the rights yet, to show any Law & Order episodes?
If not, then that could be motive for Murdock & Co, to verbally attack &
try to do damage to the Law & Order franchise, owners & actors, ... most
recently through attacking Vincent D'Onofrio.
A power play.
The FOX channel seems desperate, to get some good programming to show.
Susan, Su_Texas my opinions
Q
>
> Is there a bio about this guy on the net? And a picture?
Picture:
http://www.artnet.com/Magazine/features/kostabi/kostabi1-4-10a.asp
jean b
Pick up the latest Vanity Fair (Leo DiC. on cover)--there's an oral
history of Page Six inside.
su-texas, susan
===============
I've been to all the stores in town, & to the libraries (including the
college library). No Vanity Fair magazine. (sigh)
On the internet, there's a picture with the PageSix crew on it
(entitled "The Gossip Behind The Gossip"). And there's a short blurb
at a blog about it.
The Vanity Fair article is written by Frank DiGiacomo.
Susan, Su_Texas my opinions
su-texas, susan
===============
quotes:
"Page Six Six Six"
Ex-Page-Sixer Jared Paul Stern, on Vanity Fair's December '04 article
on "New York's Most Feared Gossip Column", by Frank DiGiacomo:
Here's the opening spread of the long awaited Vanity Fair piece on
Page Six, an 'oral history' type deal.
Kind of a snooze, mostly because there's no JPS in it at all --
despite nine years of indentured servitude! -- and pugnacious Ian
Spiegelman is only quoted once, about Ben Affleck of all @ssholes...
In any case, the Page Six crew will be celebrating with a bash at some
new joint in Soho Monday night. Don't even think of crashing.
Ian's quote has Affleck asking him to define "canoodling". Ian:
"kissing with tongue, just so you know."
[Full disclosure: I freelanced at Page Six a bit with Jared, the
now-departed Ian Spiegelman, and most of the current staffers in the
photo spread.
To really capture the weirdness that is Page Six, they really should
have photographed the staff in the actual newsroom.
What is arguably the most powerful column in the gossip industry, is
run entirely from four tiny cubicles piled high with magazines,
newspapers, decorated with PR trinkets circa 1983, and outfitted with
computers left over from the Stone Age.]
Page Six Puff Piece [JaredPaulStern.com]
[Source for article: At the bottom of the page at
http://www.mediabistro.com/blogTK/ , go to Archives & click on
November 7, 2004]
For picture: [http://jaredpaulstern.com/roll/nov2004/psix/psix.html]
(http://jaredpaulstern.com/roll/nov2004/psix/psix.html)
===========
Susan, Su_Texas
mslinda
I got mine tonight at a 7-11. Santa Monica & Fairfax
Linda C.
su-t...@webtv.net
Fairfax
Linda C.
================
And?
There's no 7-11 here. There are Short Stop & Nu-Way, but most don't
carry magazines. If they do carry some, then they're mostly geered to
the interests of truckers passing through.
At the local Wal-Mart, there's about a four to five foot wide display of
magazines, with a lot crammed in it.
At the local Eckerd, there's about a four foot wide display of
magazines, where they're sparse, spread out, not many.
As for the grocery stores, Brookshire Bros has the most, with about a
four or five foot wide display, packed full.
I checked all the other stores anyway, & no Vanity Fair.
I can't drive to Longview or Shreveport right now.
The college library used to have an extensive selection, but they've
just cut back drastically, to save money they said.
-----------------
The Reading-Matter Rant
I mean heaven help us, if we wuz to have some firm reading matter, here
in Bush country, ... that wadn't just used for wiping.
Some folks might begin to be inclined to learn, to think. And you know
full well where that kind of foolishness can lead ya. Down the wrong
paths altogether, & right smack into sin, into sinning against God.
It can lead ya outta the church, & away from your God & country, away
from your family values, ... away from what's important to God, away
from enforcing God's will.
Away from your focusing on tracking down, hurting & punishing them
homasmeckshals, homo-uh, them gay folks that ain't superior like us, ...
them people that wasn't chosen like us, to be the children of God.
Away from finding & hurting all women who abort babies.
Away from your obligations & duties as a good Christian person, ....
duties which you must remember to do, so you can continue to be one of
us, to belong, ... so you won't be left all alone & unprotected out
there, in that cold, cruel, awful world, in Satan's world where only
evil reigns, ... & so you won't face hell's fire for all eternity.
And it can lead you away from voting for a good Christian man like Bush,
who's gonna lead us all to Arma-uh, Arma-get-um, ... to dark princes,
conflicts & wars, to suffering & pain on a large scale, & to the ending
of the world as we know it, ... so we can be saved, caught up & reunited
with Christ. And everyone else'll get damned & punished, get hurt real
bad, for not being us.
So in conclusion, we can't have none of that reading, learning & such,
now can we? Or we won't get to end the world.
-----------------
Pain-Filled Memories
Country preachers, ... their ignorance, egos & arrogance, ... their
narcissistic & antisocial moral disorders, ... their anger & hate.
Plus the loud, screeching, out-of-tune piano-banging, off-key singings
during the week, ... in the small crowded, sweaty & smelly churches,
with no air-conditioning or plumbing.
It was a hell of a childhood.
Susan, Su_Texas my opinions
PS When I do get a lawyer, & some money from lawsuits, then I'll try to
help the local college have an extensive selection of magazines again.
Almost everything here seems geered away from reading, learning &
thinking, ... & towards having blind-faith in BS, in nonsense. Towards
slavery & servitude to something or someone. And towards keeping &
enforcing "the norm", regardless. Towards primitive animal behaviors.
As a result, it's dangerous here.
FeAudrey
>>>history of Page Six inside.
>>
On-line:
http://www.vanityfair.com/commentary/content/articles/041115roco03 (five
pages)
(sample: "I left a better reporter, with a thicker skin, a weaker liver,
and an appreciation for the paper's rogue spirit.")
--
Visit my Iron Age Pages for technical and fun stuff (holiday specials, too)!
http://pages.prodigy.net/feaudrey
CliffB
wrote on 11/14/04 6:03 PM:
http://www.vanityfair.com/commentary/content/articles/041115roco03
The Gossip Behind the Gossip
The New York Post's "Page Six" - a dishy oral history of America's most
feared gossip column (Part 1)
When pictures of Britney Spears wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words
page six six six were published all over the world last year, they confirmed
that a transformation had taken place in the gossip business. "Page Six,"
the column that oxygenates the wise-guy blood and Republican guts of Rupert
Murdoch's New York Post with its amusing and occasionally incendiary
coverage of the famous, the powerful, and the nakedly ambitious, has, over
the course of its 28-year history, evolved into something more than just the
heart-and spleen-of the paper. "The Page," as it is often called by those
who work for it, has become the premier brand name for postmodern gossip,
worthy of parody and, as Post management decided back in the mid-90s, enough
of a destination to appear on any page. And so "Page Six" is now rarely
found before page 10. It's no longer even a single page: seven days a week,
the column comprises a two-page spread-the second page noteworthy because it
includes space for a full-color ad. That's right: gossip is now used to sell
advertising, and to the likes of Coach and Bloomingdale's, no less-a far cry
from the days when the Post was considered so downmarket that, according to
a spurious but widely circulated story, Bloomingdale's chief Marvin Traub
once told Murdoch, "Your readers are our shoplifters."
But that is the past, and there is little room for the past in "Page Six"'s
present-tense worldview, even though, to use a Winchell-era phrase, "Page
Six" has quite a past itself. Certainly the great bulk of items reported by
the Page have the shelf life of lunchmeat, but some stories have withstood
the test of time. It was "Page Six" that broke the news in 1983 that the
city's cultural-affairs commissioner, Bess Myerson, had hired Sukhreet
Gabel, daughter of the judge who happened to be presiding over the divorce
trial of Myerson's boyfriend, Andy Capasso-an incident that would eventually
make its way into the national press. And people are still talking about the
column's coverage of the public sexual favor that former New Line production
chief Mike De Luca received at the 1998 William Morris pre-Oscar party. More
recent "Page Six" scoops have included Donatella Versace's rehab stint and
Spears's engagement to Kevin Federline.
Mostly, though, "Page Six" serves to provide a daily, pointillist portrait
of an increasingly ephemeral culture. The Page's hallmarks are alliteration
("portly pepperpot"), memorable word choice ("canoodling," "bloviator"), an
unswerving adherence to the creed that conflict is good for business, and
the regular reward and punishment of the latest bad boys and "It girls"
seeking the limelight. The exploits of 80s "Deb of the Decade" Cornelia
Guest and actor Mickey Rourke have receded, only to be replaced in good time
by the adventures of socialite-actress Paris Hilton, actress-dipsomaniac
Tara Reid, and current "self-described It boy" Fabian Basabe, whose manhood
was recently mocked on the Page after he was pantsed at a party.
Those who have felt the sting of the Page-or complained that they've been
steamrolled by an editor or reporter who carried a grudge-don't always see
what's so entertaining about the column. (Spears wasn't wearing that shirt
by accident.) And there are those who contend that "Page Six" has become as
fervently right-wing as the rest of the paper. But when it's doing what it
does best-lampooning pomposity and ostentation and sticking it to lying
publicists-"Page Six" provides a caffeinated kick the city has come to
depend on. It's difficult to imagine how the New York Post would survive
without it.
In January 2007 the column will be 30 years old, and, though Rupert Murdoch
has handed the reins of the Post to his son Lachlan, "Page Six"'s DNA can be
traced directly back to the man who introduced Australian Rules tabloid
journalism to America's genteel Fourth Estate in the mid-70s. The story
begins in the days of hot-metal type and IBM Selectrics, when Murdoch, the
driven Melbourne-born media baron, met James Brady, the Irish-American
veteran of the Korean War and Fairchild Publications' Women's Wear Daily.
Murdoch, whose assets then included The Australian and the London Sun as
well as "the Murdoch mafia"-a band of hard-drinking, fiercely loyal
newspapermen who would follow their stern-faced leader anywhere-hired Brady
in 1974 to serve as the editor of the National Star (known today as the
Star), the supermarket tabloid Murdoch started as part of his initial foray
into American media. Brady worked for Murdoch for the next nine years,
becoming vice-chairman of the American arm of News Corp. and one of the few
Yanks in the Aussie's inner circle. And when Murdoch bought an ailing
liberal tabloid, the New York Post, from its owner, Dorothy "Dolly" Schiff,
in 1976, he put Brady in charge of developing a feature that would herald
the paper's new ownership and direction: a gossip column.
Murdoch, according to Brady, wanted the Post's new gossip page fashioned
after "William Hickey," a gossip column that ran from 1933 to 1987 in
London's Daily Express newspaper. Named after an 18th-century Irish rake,
who, as penance, chronicled his drunken, scandalous life in a memoir, the
column was written and edited by a changing cast of characters that once
included the well-known British gossip Nigel Dempster. The Post's new column
would work on a similar premise: a group of reporters would gather and write
up brief, pithy stories about the powerful and famous and file them to the
column's editor, who would imbue them with a unifying voice and plug them
into a modular format. Murdoch wanted the column ready to roll when he took
official control of the Post, so Brady set about hiring a group of reporters
and stringers to work out the kinks via a series of dummy columns.
Whether Brady was involved in the production of the first Pages produced for
public consumption is a matter of some confusion. By the time Murdoch
actually began publishing the paper, Brady says, he himself had already been
tapped by his boss to head his newest acquisition: New York magazine.
Editorship of "Page Six" then fell to the natty, elfin Neal Travis, a New
Zealand-born product of the Australian tabloid scene. His recruits included
a young Post reporter named Anna Quindlen, who already had one foot in the
door of The New York Times.
Remarkably, since Travis himself departed "Page Six" in 1978, only a handful
of editors have presided over the column for any length of time. Claudia
Cohen succeeded Travis, and when she left, in 1980, Brady returned for a
two-and-a-half-year stint. Up next was Susan Mulcahy, who wrote a book about
her experience, My Lips Are Sealed. She was followed, in late 1985, by
Richard Johnson, who is the current editor of "Page Six" and the column's
iron man, having held the top byline for more than half of its 28-year
existence. There have been a few notable cameos too, including longtime
Postcolumnist and former A Current Affair personality Steve "Street Dog"
Dunleavy. And, surprisingly, given the disdain that was once heaped upon the
profession, a number of people who worked for the Page have been Ivy League
graduates.
Moment of disclosure: In 1989, Johnson took me on as one of his reporters,
and when he left the Post in 1990 for a brief sojourn in television and at
theDaily News, I shared the "Page Six" editor's byline with a revolving cast
that included Timothy McDarrah, currently a senior reporter for the "Hot
Stuff" column at Us Weekly, and Joanna Molloy, who now shares a gossip
column in the Daily News with her husband, George Rush, another "Page Six"
veteran (they fell for each other while at the Page).
During the four years that I was there, I had the distinct pleasure of being
called a "fucking prick" in person by Robert De Niro and a "son of a- ... !"
in USA Today by the late Jack Lemmon. Like many of the early "Page Six"
editors, I went to the Post knowing nothing about the column or the tabloid
way of doing things. I left a better reporter, with a thicker skin, a weaker
liver, and an appreciation for the paper's rogue spirit. I also came away
with an intensive education about power, privilege, and that thing that goes
hand in hand with them-corruption. One more thing: I'm not saying Jack
Lemmon was right about my being a son of a bitch, but I wrote a retraction
to the item he was grousing about.
Over the years, I've wondered what the other "Page Six" reporters made of
their time on the Page, how the column evolved, how the columnists dealt
with the lures and traps of their jobs, and how those experiences compared
with those of the current team of hard-nosed gossips on the Page. Here's
what they told me, going back to the beginning:
JAMES BRADY, "Page Six" creator, editor (1980-83): Here's where "Page Six"
comes in. About a month or six weeks went by between the announcement [that
Murdoch was buying the Post], the due diligence that had to be done, and the
day that it actually closed. So during that time, Rupert said, "Look, we got
to be ready to hit the ground running. The day we take it over, we've got to
make it our paper." And he said at one point, "We ought to have a 'William
Hickey' column." No one else knew what "Hickey" was, but I knew. So he said,
"All right, you take charge of that. Every day, for five days a week, for
the next four to six weeks, until we take the Post over, do a dummy page.
We'll do everything but roll the presses on it."
SUSAN MULCAHY, "Page Six" reporter (1978-83), editor (1983-85): The idea
behind it was not only that it wouldn't be associated with one person but
that, let's say you're the City Hall-bureau chief and you've got some really
juicy story about some councilman, the mayor, whatever-somebody that you
don't want to offend that much. So you slip it to "Page Six" and let them
confirm it without your name associated with it.
RANDY SMITH, "Page Six" staffer (1977): I only remember Murdoch saying two
things [about the column]. I remember him using the phrase "substantial
stories." He didn't want it to be piffle or silly stuff. It was meant to be
inside stuff, true-truly good gossip. And I remember Murdoch banning the use
of the word "reportedly." You couldn't say "reportedly." It was either true
or it wasn't true. Make up your mind.
JAMES BRADY: From the beginning there was an argument: What should we call
it? It had been decided that the column would be anchored on page 6, that
after the first five pages-the front page and then four pages of hard
news-we'd have this real change of pace. We'd come to page 6 and it would be
a knockout gossip column with a cartoon. And I was the one who said, "Well,
we continually talk about page 6. Let's just call it 'Page Six.'"
"Page Six" made its debut on Monday, January 3, 1977. Its lead story-that
CBS chairman William Paley had been talking to former secretary of state
Henry Kissinger about becoming the head of the Tiffany network-was teased at
the top of page one, which was dominated by a picture of a tense Andy
Williams accompanying actress Claudine Longet to her manslaughter trial for
the death of skier Spider Sabich. But there was no indication that a new
gossip column was starting in the Post. Five pages later, the "Page Six"
logo appeared in the upper-right-hand corner of the page. At the top of the
page, a photo of the smiling Paley separated the lead story from a small
item about Hollywood Squares star Paul Lynde's getting into an argument at
an "all-male" bar called Cowboy, where, according to the column, he
"defended his honor" by hurling a plate of French fries at a young
ankle-biter. That item featured the inaugural use of a phrase that continues
to be used on the Page to this day: "Paul's companions wanted to take the
heckler outside but cooler heads prevailed." Mentions of Jacqueline Onassis
and John F. Kennedy Jr. on that initial Page would prove the first of
hundreds, if not thousands, of subsequent citations.
MELANIE SHORIN, "Page Six" staffer (1977): I remember following Jackie O
around and hailing a cab and saying, "I only have $3.50, so follow that car
as far as you can go."
SUSAN MULCAHY: "Page Six" was really the first postmodern gossip column.
Traditionally, gossip columns are written by individuals: Walter Winchell,
Hedda Hopper, Liz Smith. And even if there isn't a single author-like the
old "Cholly Knickerbocker" column, which was written by different people,
including, early in her career, Liz Smith-those columns are still associated
with a single, first-person voice. I'm also pretty certain "Page Six" was
the first gossip column to be written almost entirely by baby-boomers,
starting with Claudia [Cohen]. From that point on, the column had the same
ironic, sometimes smart-ass viewpoint that came to characterize a lot of the
media that would be created by boomers-Letterman, Spy, and all of that. We
saw retro, even kitschy qualities in material that might be taken at face
value by more seasoned columnists.
STEVE CUOZZO, a long-term editor at the New York Post who oversees the Page:
At the time "Page Six" was introduced, in the winter of '77, gossip columns
were a lost art. Not only was Winchell-the infamous demagogue with his
power-long gone, but so were the Hollywood columnists like Hedda Hopper and
Louella Parsons. And the only thing that was left were things running on
their last legs, like Earl Wilson in the Post. That was it. I mean, Liz
Smith was writing in the Daily News, but that was primarily a
Hollywood-and-celebrity column. It didn't pretend to be a gossip column.
"Page Six" reanimated the genre by introducing the public to the idea that
gossip columns would not only be about show business and celebrities but
about the corridors of power. "Page Six" might write about Broadway, sports,
museums, American Ballet Theatre, or financial types-moguls and their
travails, whether they were of a financial or a sexual nature. And that was
all new. And it's partly for that reason-that "Page Six" tapped so many
different realms-that it had the effect of making the Page sort of a benign
nuisance to every editor of the paper ever since.
Another thing that made "Page Six" electric had to do with the circumstances
of New York City at the time. This was 1977. The city was still recovering
from the near bankruptcy of 1975. "Page Six" came along and reminded people
just how dynamic the city was. There was a lot of European money coming into
New York for the first time. There were the real rich Europeans and the ones
with phony titles. And their arrival on the scene coincided with the disco
era-Studio 54, Xenon-and those places to some extent became their playpens.
And "Page Six" brought that scene to life: this off-center, often druggy,
but glamorous scene that saw so many wealthy Europeans coming to the city
and mingling with New York society, athletes, and club owners. Nobody had
seen this kind of coverage, and although it was often snarky and had a
definite edge and sometimes drove people crazy because it was so unsparing,
it was a great tonic for the city. It was almost as if we had forgotten that
New York was this much fun and this important, and that so many people
wanted to be here at a time when so much of the country had given up on the
city.
Brady's successor, Neal Travis, was a bon vivant in the making and a favored
member of the Murdoch mafia despite his openly liberal tendencies. If the
flamboyant Dunleavy was the Keith Richards of tabloid journalism, then his
mate Travis (who died of cancer two years ago) was its Charlie Watts:
quieter and more thoughtful by comparison, but, nonetheless, a man who lived
for the beat-whether it was Elaine's, Regine's, or Studio 54-and the
opportunity to cut down some tall poppies.
CLAUDIA COHEN, "Page Six" reporter (1977-78), editor (1978-80): Neal used to
say that it hadn't been a good day if he hadn't pissed off at least one
person he was writing about.
STEVE DUNLEAVY, longtime Post fixture: Rupert Murdoch had a great affection
for, I won't say Neal's arrogance, but the very fact that Neal would always
say, "Ah, mate, that's the headline." And walk away. Not arrogant but
assertive.
ANNA QUINDLEN, "Page Six" reporter (1977): I remember being reprimanded by
Neal once when he'd given me a tip-I think it was about Liza Minnelli. I
told him I hadn't been able to confirm it, and he said, "You don't have to
confirm it, you just have to write it."
CLAUDIA COHEN: One of the first stories that I did, Neal sent me over to do
a short paragraph on a new nightclub that was opening. I think we were doing
it as a favor to some press agent who was a good source and a friend of the
Page, Harvey Mann. So he sent me over to this place, I got a tour, I met the
owners, and I came back to the paper and I wrote a paragraph saying that it
was about to open. And I said to Neal, "This is the dumbest idea I have ever
seen. This place will never work." It was Studio 54.
In April 1978, Travis left "Page Six" to publish a novel, among other
things. Claudia Cohen took over and, as Cuozzo recalls, "put the Page on the
map." Though "Page Six" is written largely by its reporters, the column's
editor tends to set its tone and the agenda. Where Travis's targets got a
"sharp poke in the extremities" that could be painful but not genuinely
damaging, Cohen, in Cuozzo's words, went "for the jugular." She could be
especially pointed on matters of weight gain.
CLAUDIA COHEN: I think my tone differed significantly from Neal. I took the
position that a gossip column had to have a real point of view. I wanted to
make an impact and I wanted it to be different. And therefore the tone of my
column was provocative-some thought highly provocative-and as irreverent as
I could possibly make it.
STEVE CUOZZO: Fred Silverman was the NBC programmer who became, in a lot of
ways, the first media superstar. One of Claudia's most famous stories was
about how fat he was, standing around the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
And that was important, because the New York media, and thus the public, was
once again conscious of the possibility of its executive corps as
celebrities.
CLAUDIA COHEN: One of my main interests when I took over "Page Six" was
business. I was fascinated by all the excesses of the 80s, and I used to say
that when you were reading "Page Six" you should feel as if you were
tiptoeing down the corridors of power and listening in the doors. So we used
to write about corporate leaders almost as if they were movie stars.
One source tiptoeing down the corridors of power and phoning in what he saw
to "Page Six" was Roy Cohn, the prominent lawyer who had been Joe McCarthy's
primary henchman. Once scorned in the pages of Schiff's Post, he had become
a regular presence in the tabloid's pages and hallways.
CLAUDIA COHEN: One of my best sources was Roy Cohn. I had started writing
about the parties that Roy Cohn gave, and I would list the names of all the
judges who were there. Many lawyers might have been embarrassed by such a
thing, but not Roy. He loved it and started inviting me to cover every
single party he had. He loved seeing his name on the Page so much that he
would also become a source for great stories. And nobody knew where more
bodies were buried in New York City than Roy Cohn. I would go so far as to
say that he was my number-one source while I was writing the column. He knew
everything.
As the column's power grew, and Cohen's power grew with it, she was not
afraid to flex some muscle.
BOBBY ZAREM, publicist: Claudia Cohen barred me from the Page because I
wouldn't pass a note to Kirk Douglas, with whom I was having lunch at the
Russian Tea Room. I didn't know that they'd had a prior relationship. I was
having lunch with him and a few other people. And Claudia sent me a note to
give to Kirk. And I put it under the plate. And then she sent me another one
saying that unless I gave it to him immediately I was going to be barred
from "Page Six." And I ripped them both up for her to see. And I was barred
from "Page Six." So her column went to shit because she barred the single
most resourceful person with information that there was.
CLAUDIA COHEN: Bobby refused to give him the note. He not only ripped it up
but, to my recollection, he even put the pieces in his mouth and pretended
to swallow them. But I don't remember banning Bobby as a result. I don't
remember ever banning Bobby. At that time, it would have been impossible to
ban Bobby from "Page Six." I saw Bobby almost every night of my life at
Elaine's.
SUSAN MULCAHY: The first time I realized the power of the Page, I was
rejected getting into Studio 54. I was supposed to go to a party there and
it was my first time. Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager were still running it.
So Claudia calls and gets my name on the list. And I got there, and of
course I stand there like a pathetic little dweeb, and guess what: I didn't
get in! So I come in the next morning and Claudia's like, "So, how was your
first visit to Studio 54?" And I said, "Well, actually, I didn't get in."
She said, "What!?" She called up Rubell, she called [the club's chief
doorman] Marc Benecke. I got so many flowers that day that I looked like a
funeral parlor. After that, I never had a problem.
CLAUDIA COHEN: "Page Six" was exciting, it was chaotic. The adrenaline would
flow all day. The phones never stopped ringing. Press agents are calling and
begging you to run items about their clients. Your tipsters are calling you
with great scoops that really need to be reported, and a lot of work has to
go into that. Then there are the slow days, where nothing is happening, and
you haven't got an idea for a story, and you've got to start working the
phones.
PETER HONERKAMP, "Page Six" reporter (1978-80): There was a movie out at the
time called Cruising. And there was a lot of debate about it and
controversy. [The movie featured Al Pacino as a cop who goes undercover to
solve a series of murders in New York's gay S and M world.] And Claudia had
written the lead story about that movie. I don't remember what it was about,
but [an editor on the desk that night] came in at like 10 o'clock at night
and told me, "I'm sick of reading about this movie. I'm killing this." He
said, "You're a reporter. I'm your fucking boss. Write something."
This was before cell phones. I didn't know how to get ahold of Claudia. So I
knew a couple of cop flacks, and I called up one P.R. guy, got him in bed
with his wife. And I said, "Just give me anything." I'm petrified, and I get
this guy and he goes, "I don't know, Peter. I don't have anything." Then he
said, "I was on a bumpy flight today with Muhammad Ali." I said, "Well, what
is that?" He goes, "I don't know. Call Muhammad Ali up and ask him if he was
scared." I said, "How the fuck do I get Muhammad Ali?" He said, "He stays at
the Waldorf."
So I hung up the phone. I called the Waldorf and said, "Could I have
Muhammad Ali?" Who picks up the fucking phone at the Waldorf? Muhammad Ali.
I go, "Look, I'm 25 years old, I'm in a lot of trouble. I know you're the
most famous man in the world. I beg you to talk to me about anything for
five minutes." He was eating chicken. He goes, "O.K., you got me for as much
time as you want." And I remember him telling me he would only give me an
interview if I promised to send him a picture of myself, which I did. And he
gave me this great thing about how he was going to come back [out of
retirement] and fight [Larry] Holmes, which he hadn't announced at the time.
He told me, what was he going to do-go fishing with Howard Cosell? He told
me he was going to save the world. And the heading of the story went, "Ali
has a plan to save the world."
Many are the sins that tipsters and publicists commit. One of the most
serious is "double-planting," whereby an item is planted in more than one
column after a promise of exclusivity.
SUSAN MULCAHY: If somebody told you they were giving you an item exclusively
and it looked like a good item, you'd say, O.K., we will run the item if we
have it exclusively. Then you'd pick up the papers the next day and you
would have it and so would Liz [Smith], and then you'd ban that press agent
for a while.
BOB MERRILL, "Page Six" reporter (1981-82): You'd say, "He's off the Page!"
CLAUDIA COHEN: There's only one thing worse than someone who double-plants,
and that is someone who gives you a bad story. And that happened to me in a
very significant way. I had such success with Roy [Cohn] that it got to the
point where he would say, "Listen, you can just go with this. This is
solid." And I trusted him enough to do that. And these stories always were
totally solid until the dreaded day. There had just been a very rough piece
written about the Studio 54 case by someone at New York magazine. [The
owners, Rubell and Schrager, were being prosecuted for tax evasion.] This
piece created a lot of waves. Roy [who represented the owners] called me, or
maybe I called him and said, "What's the reaction to this piece?" And he
said, "Listen, tomorrow morning I am filing a libel suit. By the time the
paper comes out tomorrow, this suit will have been filed." I said, "This is
absolutely solid?" He said, "You can go to the bank on this one." I ran the
item. As it turns out, not only did Roy never file the suit, Roy never
intended to file the suit. For me, it was one of the darkest days I ever had
in journalism. I was mortified. I banned Roy Cohn from "Page Six." And after
a couple of weeks, he started calling and calling and calling.
SUSAN MULCAHY: Roy suddenly started calling me with stories-I had been too
lowly to deal with until then. I would make this face-an "eeeewww-ick"
face-and signal to Claudia when it was Roy on the phone. She thought this
was very funny. Claudia wanted to teach Roy a lesson by refusing to take his
calls, but she didn't want to lose a good story, so I had to talk to him.
When I hung up, I wanted to take a bath. Roy represented pure evil to me,
but as time went on I came to appreciate his value as a source. I won't go
so far as to say I grew to like him, but I did come to appreciate him.
Actor Paul Newman, meanwhile, was unofficially banned not just from "Page
Six" but from the entire Post after he went on the warpath against the
tabloid. At the center of the controversy were a caption and photo published
on "Page Six" in 1980. Beneath a candid shot of a miffed-looking Newman on
the set of Fort Apache, the Bronx, standing next to a woman with her hand
raised to the camera's lens, the caption read: "Paul Newman stares in
astonishment as a 'Fort Apache' crew member wards off a group of Hispanic
youths protesting the film." Newman said that, in reality, it was
photographers who were being warded off, and in 1983 he told Rolling Stone
magazine that his 1981 movie Absence of Malice, a drama about an
irresponsible journalist, was a "direct attack on the New York Post." He
went on to say, "I could sue the Post, but it's awfully hard to sue a
garbage can." Instead of retaliating, the paper did its best to ignore
Newman's existence.
SUSAN MULCAHY: There was definitely a shitlist at the Post. And I'm sure it
was broader than even I knew. There were certain people, like Paul Newman,
who were not allowed to be mentioned in the paper at all. They were not even
allowed to mention him in the television listings. If Hud was playing, they
would write, "Hud, starring Patricia Neal." And then the Buckleys, Pat and
Bill, were banned for a while when he defected and went to theDaily News. I
don't think it was that long. And no one ever told me there was a Jimmy
Breslin ban, but I assure you that, had I come up with tons of positive
Jimmy Breslin items, they would not have made it into the paper. [Breslin, a
Daily News columnist, and the Post's Steve Dunleavy were once fierce
competitors, especially while covering the Son of Sam murders in 1977.]
NEXT WEEK, PART 2
Frank DiGiacomo, formerly at The New York Observer, is a new Vanity Fair
contributing editor. This is his first piece for the magazine.
Illustrations by TIM SHEAFFER
su-texas, susan
> >>>Pick up the latest Vanity Fair (Leo DiC. on cover)--there's an oral
> >>>history of Page Six inside.
> >>
>
>
> On-line:
>
> http://www.vanityfair.com/commentary/content/articles/041115roco03 (five
> pages)
>
> (sample: "I left a better reporter, with a thicker skin, a weaker liver,
> and an appreciation for the paper's rogue spirit.")
==============
Thank you very much.
I've had to put off reading it for a few days, in order to work on
other stuff, the legal & survival-type stuff.
I will get back to it.
Susan, Su_Texas my opinions