Burying the Lede by Joseph LeValley & Ann McBee & Michael Paustian

Author:Joseph LeValley & Ann McBee & Michael Paustian [LeValley, Joseph & McBee, Ann & Paustian, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780996761673
Amazon: 0996761675
Publisher: Bookpress Publishing
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Tony hated parades. He especially hated covering them as a reporter. What can you say about a parade that hasn’t been said a thousand times before? He mostly hated having to fudge the truth. Parades were like Santa Claus: everyone knew the truth, but everyone preferred the fiction. The truth was that the local high school band wasn’t very good, most of the floats were made in someone’s garage and looked it, and the county fair queen looked a little wilted riding on top of the back seat of a Corvette convertible in the hot July sun. These were all things Tony wouldn’t write. He and his boss knew that the parents of all those kids, the readers of the Town Crier, preferred the fudged version.

At least the car is cool, Tony thought, but then it was gone. Not having time to look at the one cool feature of the parade was just another reason to dislike the whole affair. Tony didn’t feel as grumpy as he had every right to be. He appreciated the truly beautiful day and was glad to see that many people watching from lawn chairs and blankets along the route genuinely seemed to be having a good time. And these kids are thrilled to be in the parade, Tony thought as he snapped a photo of an overly adorable troupe of 8-year-olds prancing and spinning through a promotion of Eva’s Dance Studio.

Next came the obligatory fire truck, with firefighters sitting on their perches on the back, tossing candy to the kids lining the curbs. As the children scrambled around him to scoop up the goodies, Tony had to step carefully. He typically started at the front and moved toward the back when he photographed a parade. It actually took less time that way, and it ensured he saw everything while in motion on the parade route.

Up ahead he spotted Nelson’s campaign banner moving toward him, held aloft by two long poles which were held in turn by two young blonde beauties wearing matching shorts and halter tops in red, white, and blue. “I won’t just serve you, I’ll protect you!” the banner proclaimed above “Elect Nelson/Fitzgerald.” Behind the girls and the banner was a black Hummer. Speakers mounted on the top blared a patriotic march tune. There, behind the Hummer, walking back and forth from curb to curb, shaking hands and handing out flyers, was W. Rodney Nelson.

As Tony lifted his Nikon SLR, Nelson paused, raised his hand in a wave, and broadened his smile. Good grief, Tony thought. He’s posing for me. He snapped the picture anyway, knowing Ben wouldn’t use it, favoring a picture of a local cute kid over a politician every time.

Tony turned and matched strides with Nelson as he resumed campaigning.

“Mr. Nelson, Tony Harrington from the local paper. Can I ask you how the campaign is going?”

“I couldn’t be more pleased,” Nelson responded without hesitation. “The people of Iowa have been wonderfully welcoming of me and my family as we’ve traveled the state.

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