Florida leaves children behind on Obama speech

"Whenever a parent calls and says, 'I'm keeping my child home,' it's always excused. We never question what a parent does."

-- Pinellas County Schools Superintendent Julie Janssen

In keeping with George W. Bush’s tradition of leaving every child behind, Florida school superintendents have now decided to teach their students a lesson in treason.

President Barack Obama, in his effort to connect with children in a 15-minute televised education speech next week, will, in the opinion of certain superintendents, be armed with too much liberal propaganda for students to bear.

That’s why Pinellas County parents have been offered the choice to “opt out” their children from school on Tuesday, which nicely parlays Labor Day weekend into a cozy, four-day vacation for those who want to stay home.

One more time for those in the back row: Students will be excused from school because the president will be talking.

I remember being made to watch the damn O.J. verdict in my ninth grade art class. What’s happening?

Here’s the real lesson here for Florida students: Many of your leaders are hopelessly devoted to the Republican Party, and will fight President Obama at every turn. Take Pasco County Schools Superintendent Heather Fiorentino, the three-term Republican state legislator who once cosponsored a bill requiring every public school to display the “In God We Trust” motto. And there’s Mary Ellen Elia, Superintendent of Hillsborough County Schools, who gave money to the Republican National Committee just last November. Somehow this week, right-wing radio revved its engine and allowed school superintendents to drive this unequivocally anti-American decision straight into the history books.

Ah, history books. Talk about propaganda. Find me one school textbook that devotes more than a paragraph to civil rights, the Vietnam War, or Oliver North.

As for compassionate conservatism, Florida has always been really good at being really bad at running elections. TheSunshine State runs the darkest and worst-managed children and families department in the nation. And we’re the only state that refuses gays the right to adopt children.

Ralph Nader remembers his father’s nightly question at the dinner table: “What did you learn in school today? Did you learn how to believe, or did you learn how to think?”

Maybe most parents will decide to send off their children to school Tuesday. Maybe they’ll even decide to gather at the dinner table as a family, and discuss what President Obama had to say.

While people angrily accuse him of spreading socialism and/or fascism, those same critics only encourage anti-patriotism; they spitefully plan to shelter their children from their president, and from what might well be an important lesson.

Whatever happened to staying in school?

Trusted Man

"Cronkite fought for Tampa's right to truth"

And that's the way it is.

Walter Cronkite, known to millions as "the most trusted man in America" for his consistently careful reporting, lost his tenacious battle with cerebrovascular disease at his New York home tonight.

Cronkite anchored the CBS Evening News from 1962 to 1981. His confident delivery became iconic for viewers who turned to the newsman for the latest on Vietnam, Watergate, Kennedy, King and Lennon.

A fierce advocate of ethics and accuracy, Cronkite once went to bat for a Tampa investigative team facing the fight of its life.

"He was so gracious," former Tampa television journalist Jane Akre remembers of the 92-year-old legend.

"He was a gentleman, with the emphasis on gentle."

In April 1998, Akre and husband Steve Wilson sued Tampa's Fox-owned WTVT station. The reporters had been fired over their four-part investigative series on bovine growth hormone. A number of farmers in several states, Akre and Wilson discovered, were injecting their cows with the controversial additive. The story would expose its maker, the Monsanto Company, for failing to inform the F.D.A. about the hormone's potential health risks on those who drink milk, the journalists claimed.

Monsanto threatened Fox, and the station pulled the story after Akre and Wilson refused to slant their story, according to the lawsuit. The team soon found itself embroiled in a sour seven-year court battle with the "fair and balanced" network.

"We needed someone in the business to explain to the jury why reporters don't lie on television," Wilson explained to the Tampa Liberal Examiner from his Detroit home. The 57-year-old has served as the chief investigative reporter for WXYZ-TV since 2001. Wilson remembers dialing up news directors and media think tanks, but no one wanted to fight Fox.

"Everybody told us we were crazy," he chuckled. "They said you cannot beat someone with pockets as deep as Rupert Murdoch's."

Walter Cronkite, it turned out, was happy to give a deposition about the ethics of journalism.

"He was appalled at what had happened," Wilson said.

When, in April 2000, Cronkite was asked in court to what extent a reporter should mislead the public with a story, the television veteran replied: "He should not go a microinch towards that sort of thing. That is a violation of every principle of good journalism." Fox's counsel would object to Cronkite's role as a "media law expert" in the case.

"Mr. Cronkite is not an expert in the pre-broadcast review of a story," the network's lawyers argued.

The newsman, then 83, continued: "The reporter's reputation for integrity is of great importance to the reporter. And I think he would have found in this case that his employers did not have that same sense of journalistic integrity, therefore there was an incompatibility that probably could not be bridged."

For all his wisdom, clout and experience, Walter Cronkite could only halfway convince the jury that distortion has no place in a news story. Wilson was eventually ordered to pay $156,000 in legal fees; Akre, who was awarded more than $400,000, lost it all on appeal from Fox. Akre would never again work in television news.

The truth had certainly set them free.

By 2005, investigative team Akre and Wilson were free of their house, their life savings and much of their credibility. The couple had lost just about everything in its standoff with Fox, despite having the most trusted and respected man in news by their side.

Wilson said, "He was everything you would expect him to be. Walter Cronkite is in a totally different class."

Added Akre, "I'm eternally grateful for that man."

Cronkite's final sign off tonight, though without words, says so much about the death of fair journalism. Before he left the stand in that trial where business interests prevailed over ethical responsibility, Conkite said this of today's journalists who face intimidation from their superiors:

"His duty is to protest as much as possible. I think his ultimate duty is to resign."

Thanks, Walter. And be sure to say hello to Ralph Flanary, my late granddaddy, who never missed your broadcast. -P.F.

The Infomercial

Remember Ronco?

Come on, who wasn't tempted at two in the morning to buy one of those rotisseries?

The Veg-O-Matic, the Pocket Fisherman and, yes, even that spray-on hair stuff.

Original pitchman Ron Popeil was born into sales in New York City, but would introduce his products when he made the transition to television. He did so in Tampa, Fla.

Thus the infomercial was born in Tampa, although Popeil would air his first television spots elsewhere in the country. He produced his first ads on WFLA in 1963, according to Entrepreneur. Why Tampa? It was the only place Popeil could afford. A 60-second clip for what would become the versatile Ronco Spray Gun cost 500 dollars to make.

Popeil would blaze a trail for a new generation of salesmen, and would retire from the limelight just as a stocky guy with a beard was weaseling his way onto our airwaves.

Let's shout it together: "Billy Mays here!"

Early medical reports indicate OxiClean magnate Billy Mays died of heart disease at home on Sunday at age 50.

Mays lived in Tampa. He attended church in Tarpon Springs. Many of Mays' segments and spots were shot OmniComm Studios in Clearwater, and aired nationwide on the Discovery Channel's Pitchmen. Billy Mays was a Tampa Bay celebrity whose products will be forever found tucked into pantries and beneath countertops across the country.

This week Ron Popeil, 74, mourns the late contemporary infomercial king in an email released to the Tampa Liberal Examiner:

It has been a sad week already, and with Billy’s passing, the world has lost another gem. Billy mastered the art of the pitch with his warmth and amped-up energy. For those of us who grew up before him on the boardwalk and at the state fairs, Billy was the leader of the next generation of pitchmen. I’m sad to see his sale cut short. He was a teddy-bear and my thoughts are with his friends and family. It was a privilege to know you Billy!

"Billy realized that an eye-to-eye pitch has to be honest and salable to the core," Popeil tells Time in its July 13th issue.

"It was this skill -- along with verbal agility, stamina and likability -- that he used to get consumers to buy products they never knew they needed."

One could argue the infomercial was born in Tampa with Ron, and died in Tampa with Billy.

We'll remember Billy Mays as pitchman... but that's not all.

-P.F.

Billy Mays

Billy Mays is no longer here.

The infomercial icon, who flamboyantly showcased products like OxiClean and Orange Glo, died this morning, according to Tampa Police.

William Darrell Mays, Jr., who would have turned 51 next month, suffered a bump on the head during a landing at Tampa International Airport yesterday.

Upon his return from Philadelphia, Mays had tweeted: "Just had a close call landing in Tampa. The tires blew out upon landing. Stuck in the plane on the runway. You can always count on US Air."

It was his humor that never failed to provoke reaction; Mays would often inflame "Pitchmen" co-host Anthony Sullivan during show tapings for the Discovery Channel. The show airs Wednesdays at 10:00 p.m. A recent episode featured Mays dangling from a pirate ship near St. Petersburg's Pier while demonstrating the strength of a new product.

Mays would joke about his "hard head" to television crews following the flight. It's not clear what struck his head, or whether his death is connected to the blow.

Mays' wife, Deborah Wooley, told police she found Billy's body inside his Tampa home this morning. Police do not suspect a break-in or foul play.

The enthusiastic pitchman had been working on a book deal in New York earlier this month. He had just appeared on Tuesday's "Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien." And Mays had been scheduled to undergo hip replacement surgery -- his third -- tomorrow, per his Twitter entry.

"He's gone. I'm gonna be strong for him. Thank you for all the thoughts and prayers everyone," Mays' 22-year-old son, Billy III, tweeted this morning.

The King

The King is dead.

Throughout a career equal parts charisma and chaos, Michael Jackson still somehow managed to heal the world.

"Weird Al" Yankovic wouldn't be "Weird Al" without those infectious Jackson parodies, like "Fat" and "Eat It." Tonight Yankovic tweets: "Oh man. Can't believe it. RIP Michael Jackson."

Another contemporary musician -- ?uestlove of The Roots -- posts on his Twitter account: "Elvis got revisionist media treatment. I expect the friggin same for my hero."

The media certainly never encountered a more intriguing icon-meets-spectacle personality. He was the original M.J. He was his own reality show. And he was only 50.

"He was a positive thinker," remembers Bruce Swedien, Jackson's recording engineer on every album since Off The Wall.

Reached at his Florida home tonight, the 75-year-old Swedien describes Jackson as "a joy to work with...totally prepared, always." During recording sessions Jackson would come to the studio with the music already memorized, Swedien says.

The men met in 1978 during the filming of The Wiz, an African-American adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, which features Jackson as the Scarecrow. The Off The Wall album would soon follow, and by 1982 Thriller would set the musical masterpiece bar to an all-time high.

Thriller isn't just the best-selling album; Thriller may well be the best album ever made.

Swedien couldn't predict the impact the record continues to inflict on the world. On Thriller's success, he remarks, "You can't go into it with that in mind. What comes out is what comes out."

The year 2001 would represent each man's final venture in music-making; the ironically-titled Invincible arrived post-9/11. The engineer claims Jackson had "no firm plans" to make another album when the two spoke last year.

"Michael kept things pretty close to his chest," Swedien recalls.

While recording the Bad album in 1987, Jackson struggled with his vocal on a song that demanded a higher key. He couldn't sing it. So he walked out of the studio.

Swedien found Jackson in the corner of his room, sobbing.

"He was totally upset that he couldn't perform it," Swedien says.

The men decided to take it down a key. And then the song sounded just right:

If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself, and then make a change.

"'Man In The Mirror,'" Swedien sighs. The single would hit number one in early 1988.

Tonight Jackson's musical partner and friend of 30 years chooses to remember that -- in spite of the controversy, the disgrace and the stigma -- Michael Jackson lived up to his loving lyrics.

"If you could think of the best possible situation, that was working with Michael."

-P.F.

'Jenny' Memoir

Forget all the gossip you've heard about Jenny.

She never dated any member of the '80s rock band Tommy Tutone, and she certainly never changed her number; the girl who got away does not -- and never did -- exist.

"There was no Jenny," songwriter Alex Call admits during a telephone interview from his Nashville home Wednesday. "The number? It came to me out of the ether."

Since late 1981, Call's classic "867-5309/Jenny" has maintained urban legend appeal with its young lust tale of a boy who discovers his crush's phone number scribbled on the wall of the men's room.

The song itself serves as a bittersweet paradox; heavy radio and MTV rotation would catapult the San Francisco band to Top Five status, while the tune's popularity would ruin the lives of those who shared Jenny's phone number. Three decades following the birth of "Jenny", the crank calls continue.

"It was a joke that happened one day," Call remembers of the quick songwriting process. Today the man behind the Tommy Tutone tune puts the finishing touches on his forthcoming rock 'n' roll memoir, For A Good Time Call: 867-5309: I Wrote The Song That Saved My Ass. The 300-page snapshot will span his experiences between 1960 and 1988.

By 1981, Call had already recorded with Elvis Costello and Huey Lewis, and had even gone platinum with a song he wrote for Pat Benatar. But there was just something about Jenny.

Call had the catchy chorus down. The name and the number had seemed to fall into place while he sat beneath a plum tree in his Mill Valley, Ca., backyard, just north of San Francisco. But Call was missing something. He needed verses.

That day Call got a visit from Jim Keller, a well-known guitarist and friend Call had met through the local music scene. Within 20 minutes, the two men had it: I got your number on the wall.

Before long Tommy Tutone were off to Los Angeles, but 32-year-old Alex Call was stuck at home digging ditches for a contractor, publicly unattached to the band's fame that was only beginning to bud. "Jenny" was creeping up on mainstream radio. And suddenly the band wanted exclusive rights to the song.

"There was always a dagger in someone's hand, and it was usually a friend's hand," Call remembers. "Sometimes, it's your best buddy."

Call wasn't about to sign over his share of the writing credits. His decision paid off when Arista Records offered him a deal. His self-titled first album barely hit shelves in 1983 when the deal fell apart. The guy who had signed Call had been fired. Another guy had abruptly quit the label.

The songwriter, now 60, chuckles, "I went from zero to hero to zero in about a year-and-a-half."

Jenny was a work of fiction, but she somehow managed to come between the men in her life.

While the song's opening guitar lick, chord progression and chorus were Call's idea, Keller beefed up the tune's backbone with additional lyrics. The two songwriters agreed on their roles in the composition. It was Tommy Tutone frontman Tommy Heath who, according to Call, created the copyright controversy.

"We did fight over it. Tommy wanted to be part of the song [credits]. But he wasn't." Heath could not be reached for comment.

Even with the band's success realized, Tommy Tutone would later refuse to record another Call-penned song, "You Never Really Loved."

"It would have been perfect for them," he says.

Still, every time "Jenny" plays, she pays. Even today. Record sales are down, and those '80s compilations have lost steam, but the royalty checks have never stopped coming. Call splits a sum with several people each time an FM station spins "Jenny": roughly 12 cents.


That's when 30-second television spots have come in handy. "It's a real good place for songwriters to get money out of their catalogues," Call explains.

Hits from the '80s have recently featured in television ads, many selling a taste of the old school while those who recall the hits -- many no longer considered "thirtysomethings" -- eat it up. A new Ore-Ida advertisement serves up a snippet of Quiet Riot's "Cum On Feel the Noize" cover. And a nationwide Benjamin Franklin Plumbing commercial presents a rendition of "867-5309/Jenny."

Call continues to compose and record music in Nashville -- and the only lady in his life is named Lisa. The married couple have performed their album, Passion & Purpose, at a number of healthcare conferences across the country.

Call's next project involves polishing those final chapters of his rock story by the end of August.

She may have saved his ass, she's nothing more than the hypothetical heroine of a three-minute teen angst anthem.

"Jenny's just a good rock 'n' roll name."

-P.F.

Joe's Show

Despite David Gregory's best effort, the "Meet The Press" host couldn't quite unhinge Vice President Joe Biden this morning.

Yet somehow -- during a nonstop, fast-paced 32-minute Q-and-A -- Joe never lost his footing. He wasn't overly defensive. He never appeared angry. And no inappropriate jokes! Phew.

Gregory's rapid-fire reporting style kept our Veep on his toes. Let's face it, when Dick Cheney starts logging more media face time, the American people deserve a Biden status report. We need answers on the economy, soaring unemployment and our health care state. And we need them from Mr. Second In Command.

Three key points from Biden's "Meet The Press" appearance:

• While he withholds comment on the impact of Ahmadinejad's election win, Biden assures "we're not going to allow Iran to go nuclear";
• on our country's rising unemployment claims, Biden remarks "everyone feels mildly better about where the economy is going"; and
• with some prodding from David Gregory, Biden admits he "won't rule out" a future run for President.

Well, Joe, you almost made it through an interview without an awkward statement.

First, saying we won't allow Iran to develop nukes is like saying we won't allow Lindsay Lohan access to alcohol. It's inevitable. And neither seems afraid to advertise it.

As for people feeling "mildly better" about the economy, I'd like to meet those eternal optimists. "Mildly better" more aptly describes how one feels the morning after a NyQuil-induced coma.

And, I'm sorry, but Joe Biden should have never hinted at a future Presidential run. That's one question you should have dodged, Mr. Vice President. Are you suggesting Obama is a one-term President? Assuming a second-term victory, you'll be 74 when Obama leaves office in 2017. And, for argument's sake, what if Obama refuses to endorse you at that time?

Well, look... Joe's a good guy. He's weathered unspeakable family tragedies during his lifetime. He's sharp and approachable. And he calls his 40-year-old son Beau (who's serving in Iraq) "the finest man I have ever known in my life."

Not bad, Biden. You've lately perfected the art of answering questions without necessarily answering them. Maybe you should run for President.

-P.F.