It’s the great American pastime: Build up our heroes and pop icons and then dismantle them limb by limb.  If enough time passes after their fall from grace, the humiliated eventually have a shot at redemption (see Marv Albert, Woody Allen, Richard Nixon, etc).  Because when it comes to the powerful and famous, we have short memories and a forgiving nature.  Michael Jackson, however, goes to the grave minus that chance.  And it was MJ’s inability to talk his way back into our good graces that ultimately cemented his moniker of “Wacko Jacko.”

He didn’t speak often in public, but when he did (like with Ed Bradley of 60 Minutes) he didn’t do himself any favors.  On camera he seemed frail in every way: his psyche, his feelings, his body and his grasp on reality. The combination of global uber-fame and a tragic childhood under the stern rule of an allegedly abusive father, drove Jackson into his own quirky, bizarre reality that made him seem galaxies away from our perception of normalcy.  We should have felt pity for him.  Instead we were incredulous as to how such a cute talented kid could turn out so weird.

Watching Michael Jackson speak was like watching a child express himself from inside the body of a grown man.  His death at 50, as shocking as it first seemed, now makes sense in a strange way.  It’s as if that child, restricted from maturing and developing, had no other option than to wither and die.  He passes before the statute of limitations could expire on our collective scorn over the child molestation charges. And expire they would have.  Jackson would have perhaps reinvented himself in Las Vegas and maybe performed his way back into the public’s embrace.  The media would have welcomed the opportunity to run with the story of Michael Jackson’s new lease on life.  Instead, his obit runs in the morning papers.

Governor Mark Sanford may be back on US soil, but clearly he left his sanity behind in Argentina. The other conspicuous absence at today’s news conference was his wife.  Good call Mrs. Sanford.   In what was a truly bizarre and poorly executed news conference, Sanford choked back tears. Only he knows whether they were for his shattered family or his dashed White House hopes.

From the first few words, you knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.  Sanford verbally stumbled and bumbled his way out of the gate (note to self: prepared opening remarks serve a purpose), claiming that he was going to tackle this in “no particular order.”  In fact, a little structure might have minimized the appearance that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.   The whole tawdry thing started rambling when he talked about “God’s Law,” and how “the biggest self of self is self,” whatever the heck that means.  In fact there was a good solid 90 seconds in which he was making no sense at all.

The governor is clearly not a wordsmith.  Disregarding the 200-or-so “um’s” and uh’s,” his word selection was terrible, calling his responsibilities back home to his family “fidcuiary.”   He characterized the escalation of his extramarital affair as “that whole sparking thing,”  and the conversation about his future with the other woman as going “into serious overdrive to figure out where we go from here.”  He favored characterizing everything as if it belonged in a zone: “the zone of privacy” he wanted the media to observe around his family.  There was a “zone of politics” and a “zone of protectiveness.”  The whole appearance belonged in “The Twilight Zone.”

The staging was awful, with the embattled Governor standing inside a tight scrum of reporters, one of whom was flashing the most inappropriate ear-to-ear grin behind his right shoulder throughout the entire event.  She was probably sharing a joke with a colleague, but it looked as though she was delighting in his demise.  Sanford handled the Q&A horribly, letting it get completely out of control.  There was no preset order to questions, so he was frantically looking from side to side as several reporters shouted at him at once.  He came completely unraveled under direct questioning, ultimately leaving abruptly before answering a question.

It’s hard to believe that a politician of his caliber would get up to the podium at such a crucial moment and wing it.  But that’s exactly what he did, and it showed.

Did he tie some bed sheets together and lower them out his bedroom window late one night?  Or perhaps he put on a clever disguise and walked right out the front door of the State Capitol undetected.  Whatever South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford did, he sure did manage to give his security detail the slip.  But when you’re a member of the most exclusive political club in America, you can only vanish for so long.

The Governor’s staff explained his disappearance by telling reporters that Sanford went hiking on the Appalachian Trail, a head-clearing, stress-busting activity that harkens back to his high school days.  But apparently, “at the last minute” he decided to go to Argentina instead for something “exotic.”  Presumably Buenos Aires does NOT harken back to his childhood.

From a communications standpoint, here’s what I can’t figure out.  In this age of instant global communication, why did Sanford and his staff tell different stories?  It seems so simple:  

(ring, ring)

CHIEF OF STAFF: “Hello Governor?  Things are getting a little busy back here in S.C…. what part of the Appalachian Trail are you on and do you have any idea when your nature walk will be wrapped up?”

SANFORD:  ”Well actually I took a little detour.  Right now I’m in Argentina.”

CHIEF OF STAFF: “Argentina?  I told the media you were hiking!”

SANFORD:  ”Well then, I’ll be sure to get in some hiking so you’re technically telling the truth.  But stick with the Appalachian Trail story.  I’ll be back in a few days.  I haven’t quite gotten my fill of exotic yet.”

What kind of numbskulls are running South Carolina that they couldn’t see this crisis communications storm swelling over the horizon?  If they can’t successfully manage a few days of R&R for the big guy, imagine the fiasco that will ensue during hurricane season if one slams into their coast.

This is textbook stuff - political communications 101 material.  Be on the same page.  Get your stories straight.  Tell the truth - it’s non-negotiable.  And for goodness sakes, stop being such an impatient child. There’ll be plenty of time for “exotic” after you leave the Governor’s Mansion, which now may come much sooner than originally planned.

One of Barack Obama’s best moments at the G20 summit, not surprisingly,  resulted from one of his biggest strengths: word selection.  With the French and the Chinese ready to come to blows over the issue of international tax havens, the President intervened and suggested that one word, “recognize” be changed to “note” in the final communique from the meeting. The compromise appeased both sides and eased the growing tensions.

This verbal selectivity of Mr. Obama’s is frequently on display when he speaks.  He has enormous respect for the impact a poorly chosen word can have.  As a result, when he is addressing a sensitive matter, and approaching the thrust of his point, you will often see him dramatically slow his speaking pace.  At times he will come even to a complete stop, utilizing a thoughtful pause.  This allows his mind time to shuffle through the various synonyms available, until he settles on the precise one he wants to use.

Too often we fear pausing when we speak, as if it’s going to make us look uncertain.  When we succumb to this fear, and opt for emitting a steady stream of sound, we dramatically increase the likelihood that we will say something we later regret.  It also allows those dreaded filler words (um, er, you know, sort of, kind of) to creep into our speech.

The President is always demonstrating the art of effective communication.  If he can remain comfortable and confident building in pauses in his speech, then why can’t we?

As I stood near Pennsylvania Avenue on Inauguration Day listening to Barack Obama toll the bell for a new era in American resolve and spirit, I couldn’t help (given my profession) but be consumed with one overriding thought: What a delight to have a true orator back in the White House.  

A leader’s spoken words are meant to reveal what thoughts occupy his mind and what principles inhabit his heart – not merely what words are scrolling on the teleprompter.

In eight years, George Bush’s speech-making skills improved about as much as his leadership qualities – not at all.  The 43rd and 44th presidents offer as stark a contrast from the podium as you can get.  Throughout his two terms, Bush was downright android-like in his delivery.  All the techniques needed fort effective speechmaking – variation of pace and pitch, ability to make the punch lines stand out, a mixture of voice modulation and the integration of audible emotion – were all sadly missing from his execution.  The monotony of his “see Spot run” simple sentence structure merely reinforced the notion of his intellectual limitations.   It’s no wonder the nation fell into a state of despair.  Our leader for the past eight years never managed to inspire or reassure us with his oratory.  This was painfully on display during his final farewell speech on January 15th, remarks he stumbled and bumbled his way through without a hint of emotion or reflection is his voice.

Words alone cannot remedy what ails us as a nation.  But if part of our challenge in reinventing our country rests in “visualizing success,” then we certainly have the right man leading from the lectern.

No…. there’s not too much pressure on the people penning Barack Obama’s Inaugural speech.  They have the modest marching orders of coming up with turns of phrase and lines so memorable that they will be quoted for generations to come and printed in history books.  Only the eyes and ears of the entire nation and beyond will be hanging on every painstakingly selected word.  Can they craft something as historic as,  ”Ask not what your country can do for you….”?    In many ways, that is the bar this speech needs to clear, and then some.  The difference being, back in 1960, the Inauguration speech by John Kennedy was delivered during much more prosperous times, with only the growing threat of the USSR shaking American confidence.  On January 20th, Barack Obama also will be officially signaling the beginning of a new era of young, change-inspired leadership. Only this time, the nation to which he speaks is in much greater need of hope and reassurance.  The words written for the 44th President have the power to be a salve on a troubled country.  At the same time, however, they need to manage realistic expectations of what the first year of an Obama Administration can accomplish.  The words cannot soar so high that they feed the “savior syndrome” that seems to have taken on a life of its own.  It’s a delicate balance indeed.  If you love unprecedented pressure, it doesn’t get any better than this.

It’s now officially duck and cover time for the GOP.  Failing to CYA could mean getting slimed with a good dose of the blame that’s getting liberally hurled in these final days.  Sarah Palin’s dreams of West Wing privilege quite possibly have been replaced by worry over how much collateral damage her political future will suffer if the Democrats pull off a landslide.  Speculation is running rampant that the white guys with neckties will close ranks and drop the blame for failure at Caribou Barbie’s doorstep, like an ignited back of you-know-what on Halloween.  But if we’ve learned anything about the Alaskan governor over the past seven weeks (besides the fact that she needed a lot more time than she had to cram for this exam) it’s that she’s shrewd and ruthlessly ambitious - qualities taught in beauty pageant training I’m sure.  That’s what increases the likelihood that Sarah Palin’s next job will be hosting a prime time show on Fox News.  

C’mon, it makes perfect sense.  Fox get what it wants, a foaming-at-the-mouth neocon who looks great in Valentino and Blahniks (which you’ll have full view of thanks to a clear, lucite anchor desk) and Palin gets a pulpit for the next four years from which to slowly remove the stain she’s acquired.  In short, she gets to be Katie Couric instead of Sarah Palin.  Fox is already measuring for the window treatments to go in her corner office because she has the perfect credentials: national notoriety (thanks to The Maverick’s reckless roll of the dice), on-air experience (she was a sports reporter after all) and the ability to wink at the judges….uh… I mean the camera with the best of them.

This will be the opposite path Reagan and Schwartzenegger took - Hollywood first, governor’s mansion second.  I can already see the promos - “The O’Reilly Factor at 8pm followed by the premiere of The Palin Principle at 9pm.”  Go ahead, laugh.  But four years from now after she’s finished her first debate with incumbent Barack Obama, she’ll exit the stage and slide right into her anchor chair to host her own post-debate analysis show.  Don’t think the idea hasn’t crossed their minds.

In the absence of substance, image truly is everything, as the old ad campaign said.  So perhaps that’s why the disclosure that Sarah Palin took $150,000 of Republican Party money and went on a shopping spree for designer clothes (at of all places Neiman Marcus) is such a damaging little news tidbit.  Image and facade are all Sarah Palin have left with the under 50% crowd she still has fooled.  But those people want to see her in their mind’s eye in a furry parka shooting a moose, not in a changing room asking her handlers, “does this Missoni make me look fat?”  

No, it is not an issue of global significance, but how many game changers in recent presidential politics were?  Was Willie Horton on a par with Osama bin Laden?  Was George Bush Sr.’s bewilderment over a supermarket checkout scanner a matter of national importance?  Of course not.  But both incidents created a perception that ultimately proved toxic.

When your party-supplied clothing allowance exceeds Joe The Plumber’s annual salary, you’ve got a PR problem on your hands.  How can Palin now go out and position herself as the champion of the little guy who shops at Wal*Mart when she morphs from Joe Six-Pack into Madame Cliquot.  Most hockey moms I know do not wear Oscar de la Renta.

With less than two weeks to go, and the McCain camp in need of some traction, Palin’s clothing issue represents the black ice newly discovered under the rear tires.  Even if the story struggles to occupy a full news cycle, it’s already been a distraction and compromises the GOP sincerity when they play the empathy card for financially strapped Americans.

Poor Joe Six-Pack.  It used to be that instant stardom afforded you 15 minutes of fame.  But I think Joe Six-Pack got cheated.  He was just passing the five-minute mark when along came Joe the Plumber (no relation) to bump him out of the national spotlight.  The “new Joe” became John McCain’s new BFF last night.  The Arizona Senator paraded his new hero out to convince viewers and voters that he connects with the everyman, the middle-class folk, the hard-workin’, lunch-pail guy.  

Speaking directly to Joe was effective the first time.  Okay, maybe a second time for reinforcement was a sound strategy.  But when the Sultan of the Clogged Sewer Line became virtually McCain’s sole focus, don’t you think all those electricians, roofers and landscapers started to feel left out?  Towards the end of the debate, McCain started to resemble your old uncle at Thanksgiving who, after getting a laugh from the punch line of his new joke, repeats the punch line several times too many over the course of the meal.  The “Plumber Technique” (as I’m sure mass communications PhD’s will refer to it years from now) really went down the sink hole when McCain tried to discuss Joe’s health care situation.  By then, the device had morphed into tired schtick.

Lesson to be learned?  Good techniques go bad when overused.  Perhaps McCain should carry a government warning: Please apply coached techniques in moderation.

John McCain has been adorned with more nicknames than a veteran big league ballplayer: McBush, McLame, and on and on.  I want to add one to the list: Lurch.  No, not that giant breathing cadaver that worked as The Addams Family’s butler.  Lurch is the constant state McCain has been in for the past couple of months. Let me give you some examples of how McCain has been lurching from one position to another:

• Smart money had McCain selecting a politically moderate running mate, a Tom Ridge, a Joe Lieberman. But who does Lurch pick?  Attila the Hun with steel rims and a beehive doo.
• During the financial meltdown, McCain announced he was suspending his campaign and not participating in the first debate.  Well, Lurch resumed stumping well before the bailout measure was passed and there he was at his podium in Oxford, Mississippi, looking all weary-eyed and saggy-tailed.
• A week ago the McCain forces were insinuating that Barack Obama was not Christian enough, not patriotic enough and a pal with terrorists.  After enough criticism emerged for inciting the angry, violent-minded mobs at his gatherings, Lurch then described Obama as a decent family man.
• On Saturday, McCain’s people leaked word to Politico that he would be unveiling a detailed proposal on Monday for how America can survive and deal with the current financial meltdown.  On Sunday night, Lurch realized his homework wasn’t going to be ready in time for class Monday morning, so yet another about face.  Now, no proposal is coming.