Talk by Michael A Smerconish Page A

“He’ll give us the latest in his thinking about his run for president, and I’ll try to include your calls.”
    I killed some time by recapping what had been going on in the race, namely how the Democratic Party was more unsettled in its nomination process during this election cycle than any other in recent memory. With seven serious candidates, including the governors of two big states—Florida and New York—readying to do battle, the primary process for the Dems still had all the makings of a cluster-fuck. President Summers’ announcement had caught everyone by surprise, and there hadn’t even been time for the candidates to use that old canard about how “people have asked me consider it” when in fact they were dying to run. Tobias was garnering support from some party elders who believed the Democrats were behind the eight ball and needed to quickly coalesce around a candidate who could appeal to centrists. Proving that appeal was no doubt one major reason that Tobias was about to walk through my studio door.
    As I jabbered more or less on autopilot, sharing tidbits about the bios of the more serious candidates, I kept the right-wing rhetoric to a minimum and kept my eyes fixed on the other side of the glass, looking for a sign of Tobias’ arrival. The harbinger came when the three cameramen all turned on the lights atop their cameras, and then swung their gear in the direction of the corridor that led to my studio. I couldn’t see what they were focusing on but I knew it had to be Tobias. Rod looked like he’d just seen Janet Jackson’s nipple. That was to be expected. But Alex’s expression was more unusual. Shelooked surprised. As the cameramen got their shot of something not yet visible to me, I watched as her eyes widened. Then her head swiveled to look squarely at me, still with that quizzical facial expression, while the heavy soundproof door to my studio swung open. Something was coming and it wasn’t good.
    I was trying to process all of this while carrying on a coherent conversation with my listeners, an ability I’d honed from years on air, which has also served me well atop plenty of barstools.
    â€œAnd here he is right now. Joining us for Morning Power at WRGT is the Governor of the great state of Florida, Bob Tobias,” I intoned, as the governor strode toward me with his arm outstretched. With my headphones tied to the console, I could only half-rise and shake his hand, lest I’d be disconnected. The headphones also muted my ability to actually hear him because he was not yet close enough to the microphone.
    â€œâ€¦surprise…the First Lady….”
    His words were muddled. But then I saw who he was referencing.
    My eyes moved quickly from the governor to Alex’s frozen expression, to someone else who’d entered the studio behind him. I think I inhaled her scent before I actually saw her. It had been many years, but I thought I recognized that smell. Funny how the olfactory sense can jog the memory. It immediately took me back in time. And then there was her hemline, revealing those toned, tanned calves as they walked toward me. I raised my eyes and they locked on the pair of green ones directly in front of me. It was her, alright. Susan Miller was now standing three feet away, with her own right hand reaching toward me while the governor, now getting settled in front of a microphone, continued to speak words that I could now hear.
    â€œâ€¦which is why I thought it’d be great for your listeners to hear from Susan, too….”
    I stood there like some fucking Cirque du Soleil contortionist trying to shake her hand while not traveling too far from either my headphone connection or my microphone, and simultaneously trying to digest the enormous knot that had just formed in my stomach. I thought I had planned for every eventuality concerning this interview, but it had never occurred to me that she