It’s been reported that former White House Press Secretary Jay Carney is set to hit the speaking circuit for as much as $100,000 a pop, after signing on with the Washington Speakers Bureau.
We have an idea of how these speeches will play out.
—
Jay Carney arrives at a lectern and surveys a 2,000-seat auditorium packed aisle-by-aisle, wall-to-wall. He smiles and places a trifold sheet of paper on the surface before him, spreads it, and speaks.
“President [name], Dean [name], faculty, students, invited guests …”
He sees an attentive Jon Karl, notepad and pen in hand, sitting in the first row.
“Jon.
“Thank you for your patience. I apologize for the delay. Before I take your questions, I wanted to mention that today the House Appropriations Committee has moved forward with a provision that—”
Carney pauses and crinkles his forehead. He shifts his neck backward and mouths a few additional words on the page, as if hyperopia was to blame for his reading of months-old press briefing notes instead of prepared remarks for “Not for Attribution and for Planning Purposes Only: An Evening with Jay Carney.”
He withdraws a separate piece of paper from his jacket pocket and lays it down.
“Excuse me. Old habit.
“Again, thank you for your patience. It’s an honor to be with you this lucrative evening. I promise you that the $100K will be well-spent. It’s being donated to the Bill, Hillary & Chelsea Clinton Foundation, to help them fulfill their mission of …”
The audience laughs.
“It’s an extraordinary hour in this nation. A man named ‘Earnest’ has assumed my job, one last kick out the door as I turn to the next chapter in my life. It’s chapter 26 — the first 25, many of which were about my experience working for President Barack Obama, are what I want to address this evening.
“I want to address them, I just can’t.”
More laughter. Carney smirks.
“And with that, I’ll take your questions.”
The audience erupts in a sonorous guffaw and acknowledges the killer comedic timing with a round of applause. It subsides after a few seconds. Carney continues to smirk. A pause amid silence.
“I’m being serious.”
He gestures to an usher holding a microphone. The usher points at himself — Me? — and Carney says Yeah. The usher turns his attention to the long aisle sloping upward toward the back of the room and notices one student who has already stood to ask a question. He delivers her the microphone.
“Hi, Mr. Carney,” she says.
“Hello — and please, name and field of study.”
“Sure. I’m Goyal, and I’m a junior studying journalism.”
“Great.”
“Mr. Carney, today’s media environment is very aggressive and kind of intimidating to break into. The 24-hour news cycle means there is lots of news to cover, but there are only so many paid jobs to cover it, with so many journalists having multiple responsibilities.”
“Do you have a question, Goyal?”
“My question is, what kind of advice would you have for someone my age who is just trying to get a foot in the door?”
“I would refer questions about employment opportunities to your career services office.”
The student’s jaw drops and she opens her hands, palms facing up.
“Yes, you in the back,” Carney says, pointing to the last row of the floor level, moving the Q & A ahead. A separate usher hands the person the mic.
“Hi, I’m Justin, I’m a senior in the TV and film department, focusing on film criticism.”
“Hi, Justin.”
“Hi. My question is, besides the Obama administration, what’s the worst disaster movie you’ve ever seen?”
The audience gasps — a few chuckle nervously, and 90 percent of the faculty moves to expel the student immediately.
“How — how can you even make that joke?” Carney asks incredulously. “You’re in the TV and film department. There’s no such thing as a Republican in TV and film.”
Sitting on the aisle in the third row are Dennis Miller and Adam Sandler, in town for a Saturday Night Live reunion special, furrowing their brows.
“Whatever,” Carney says. “Who’s next?”
Carney can virtually feel Jon Karl’s fingertips touching his chin. He sees the ABC reporter in his periphery, hand extended to the heavens, and ignores him.
“Anyone?”
No one.
Carney sighs.
“Jon.”
“Thanks, Jay. Now that you’re out of the administration, are you finally going to clear the record about the White House’s role in the preparation of Susan Rice’s talking points about the Benghazi—”
“Dammit, Jon.”
