Staying at the Watergate Hotel in '02

(636 words)

I have a feeling younger generations and less aware adults will be surprised to learn you can stay at the Watergate. Rooms start at $467.

We stayed there in 2002.

For free!

I did a travel story about the 30th anniversary of the Watergate break-in. It ran in about 10 newspapers, including here in this link thoughtfully preserved by the San Francisco Chronicle.

I think one reason the story did so well is even newspaper editors had forgotten that the word Watergate initially evoked luxury, not scandal. The complex with its mix of commercial/hotel/residential opened in 1967 so to some Watergate meant home-sweet-home.

“People from around the world hear Watergate and think scandal, but I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather live. We love it here.”

That was Bob Dole. He and wife Liddy moved there in 1972, the same year as the break-in when Dole was chairman of the Republican National Committee. Dole told me he was in Chicago the night of the break-in.

How convenient.

We met the Doles while Val and I were dining in Jeffrey’s, at the time the Watergate’s premier restaurant. The restaurant was a favorite of George and Laura Bush when they were in the Texas governor’s mansion in Austin. Jeffrey’s opened the Watergate location when Bush became president.

It was fun seeing the Doles at dinner while we there. The place seated about 100 and both of them graciously took the time to come up and say hello to every table.

I told him I was doing a travel story about the Watergate — the 5-star dinner was free, too — and would love to interview him about it being his residence. 

“Sure! I’ll be happy to,” he gushed. “Call my office first thing Monday. I’ll talk your ears off!”

He was lying. He dodged my calls for a month before granting me about five measly minutes of crabby responses.

I shouldn’t complain. At least he gave me more than I got from Monica Lewinsky. She lived in the Watergate when the Clinton sex scandal broke and said it was a wonderful place to be “imprisoned.”

Dole did say he used to enjoy emerging from the doors and seeing the crestfallen faces of the paparazzi when they saw it was him, not her.

It was really a fun weekend for Val and I. It was our first weekend without our new baby. They’d given us a nice suite and I remember enjoying a bottle of free wine while overlooked the Potomac.

We’re taking the kids to DC this weekend so I’ve been doing a lot of reminiscing. It occurs to me New York is the only big city I’ve visited more than our nation’s capital.

I love it. Love the museums, the monuments, the galas — free! free! free! — and, oh, my, the history.

I think one reason is my old man was big on instilling in his sons the significance of history and Washington’s unique place in it.

I’ll never forget my first visit. It was July 27, 1974. Dad said, “Be sure to remember this date. You boys can say you were in the capital the day the House of Representatives voted to impeach President Nixon because of Watergate.”

It had a profound impact on me and my sense of history, one I intend to impart on my daughters.

Will I try and put the current tumult into context?

Probably. 

I’ll tell them the story of a man drunk with power, a man who felt entitled and believed he was worthy of festive adulation.

And I’ll tell them how I dream of seeing history repeat itself.

What I won’t tell them is if I’m talking about the president being impeached or their Daddy visiting DC and again getting lots of swell free stuff.

 Related …

Expense accounting the National Spelling Bee

Telling travel stories to PA tourism executives

Travel stories: I have work to do

Marching on Gettysburg with daughter, 12

We all love New York

“Use All The Crayons! TRAVEL!”

The Unprofessional: I'm on KDKA Saturday nite

(894 words)

Something happened this week that should have happened a year ago.

I began to appear professional.

In fact, it would have been a mite helpful if that would have happened in 1992. But for the sake of brevity let’s just stick with the 21st century.

Last year I looked like a guy who’d written a book. This week I began to look like a guy intent on selling one.

There’s a big difference.

I’ve had some people suggest my next book should be the story of “Use All The Crayons!” and the journey it’s taking me on. They say a lot of aspiring writers would enjoy it. And I might do that, but only if the book becomes a success.

There’s no point in writing a book about a book that didn’t sell. It’d be redundant. The only way I could draw any interest is if the failure turned me into a serial killer  and I don’t have the stomach to make such a vile transformation.

Maybe I could become a serial hugger.

So what’s the big deal about this week?

The book’s website became fully functional; I got some snazzy “Use All The Crayons!” letterhead; and I got invited to promote the book Saturday night with John McIntire on KDKA. He’s the city’s best radio host and is back on  Pittsburgh’s heirloom radio station.

A professional would have had all that lined up before he or she even got a peek at the finished book.

Not me. I did it all practically backwards.

Let’s start with the website. When you self-publish, you don’t think about promotion. At least I didn’t.

No, I thought about how this could be the biggest mistake of my life, one that could sink what has already been an often-leaky rubber raft of a career in the first place.

You wonder if you’ll recoup the $8,000 you charged on your credit card for self-publishing services and 2,000 copies. You wonder if you’re getting ripped off. You wonder what you see in yourself that’s been invisible to every other agent and publisher on the face of the earth. 

It’s a preposterous undertaking.

I lost faith. I didn’t think anyone would want to buy my book.

So what did I do? I began giving it away.

I spent four or five months last summer getting copies into the hands of all my friends and loved ones. Each book was inscribed with a note saying I could never have written a book about colorful living without them in my life.

Then they all started buying copies for friends: 10 at a time, 20. One guy bought 30.

I knew then I was onto something.

It takes me a long time to get a website to my liking. I’m finicky. Plus, I listen to suggestions. Apollo Design here in Latrobe does all my work. They have many high-paying and demanding customers.

I’m not one of them.

I understand they’re busy with deep-pocket accounts so I’m sheepish about pestering. Then when they do everything to my wishes, someone suggests, hey, your site really needs a media kit page with FAQs.

So I go back to Mike and tell him what I want next and that, pinky swear, this will be it. And all that time I hold off on a big media push until the site is just so.

As of Wednesday the site became just so.

It was two days after my new letterhead came in. The letterhead is cheerful. It is colorful.

It is beautiful.

As I said before, I’ve been reluctant to change letterhead because I’m already awash in the stuff.

I’d send out promotional letters in “Palm Features” envelopes paper clipped with “Eight Days To Amish” business cards, promoting a book called “Use All The Crayons!” signed in crayon by a guy named Chris Rodell.

It was confusing.

Finally, I ran out of Palm Features envelopes.

That was the final instigation to get “Use All The Crayons!” envelopes, letterhead and business cards.

Now I have confidence that I have the total package. 

Call me old school, but the U.S. Postal Service will be my point of contact.

I believe a one-page eye-catching letter with a couple of gushy clips about the book will at this stage do more for me than a 1,000 charmless e-mails. My envelopes will stand out like jewels in the mail of editors I’ll now target for feature stories. Who doesn’t enjoy getting a nice letter?

The letters, I hope, will entice them to the website where Monday I’ll post a link to the KDKA interview with the great John McIntire, my favorite big city radio talk host. He’s funny, sarcastic, avowedly liberal and eminently listenable to people of all political persuasions.

He used to have me on for his much-missed PCNC cable show “NightTalk.” Nothing I’ve ever done has equaled the interest of those appearance. People just loved that show.

I read last week that KDKA is bringing him back. I sent him a note of congratulations, told him about my book and -- boom -- he asked me to be on Saturday at 9 p.m. I hope you’ll tune in.

I can’t wait. I can guarantee it’ll be so loose and fun that parts of it will seem downright  unprofessional.

I’ll feel right at home.

Related . . .

Defying branding conventions

The story of Palm Features

Defying branding conventions

(721 words)

I attach “Eight Days To Amish” business cards to “Palm Features” letterhead promoting my book “Use All The Crayons!”

The letters are all signed in crayon, “Chris Rodell.”

Even amateur marketing enthusiasts understand this means I have a confusing branding problem.

“You should really think about consolidating all your interests into one brand,” a friend said this weekend.

I should, but I won’t.

I have too much vested in letterhead sprawl.

Besides, I figure I have a better chance of winning if I have four horses rather than just one in the race.

I’m increasingly hearing from people -- book buyers, those who attend my talks -- who confront me with the same question, which is boiled down to: “How come you’re not famous?”

Some of them think I should be a regular on “Ellen,” guest voicing on “The Simpsons” and shacking up with B-list actresses striving for literary cred by being linked to any author.

I ask myself a version of this question only with more humble implications: “How come I’m not solvent?”

Fame is too obscure a realm to contemplate when you’re staring down a exorbitant  monthly Comcast bill.

What’s cool for me is I’m getting near weekly evidence that good things are about to happen to me and the book. I did two book signings last week, one at the Mt. Lebanon Library, the other before a writer’s group at the Ligonier Library.

And -- hello Altoona! -- I’m doing a book signing at the local Barnes & Noble on Saturday from 1 to 4 p.m. I know not a soul in Altoona. If you do, please ask them stop by for a howdy.

These signings are giving me a real boost in my self-confidence. It may surprise people that I’m flagging in this realm, but I’ve endured 20 years of professional rejection so dismal anticipation is a natural reflex. Plus, I’ve been married for nearly as long and that’s a condition that’s bound to temper runaway ego.

But I’m becoming a very lively public speaker, and that is an essential component in promoting and selling books these days.

I spoke with scant notes at my old home library in Lebo. Nasty weather kept the crowd down to just 10 friendlies. Did I pout about the turnout?

No, I was grateful to the 10. And we had a great time. I spoke for 45 minutes and several attendees said they wished I’d have gone much longer. And, get this, I sold 16 books. Most people bought two or three copies. Not a bad night’s work.

The uplifting reaction gave me confidence to fly blind in Ligonier where I was invited to conduct a humor writing workshop for about 25 attendees. I spoke for 90 minutes without notes.

It went fantastic. Speaking extemporaneously is a skill I’ve always admired and now it’s one that seems within my grasp.

How many books did I sell?

Just six.

Why’s that good? Almost everyone there already had a copy.

Afterwards, many approached with suggestions to ensure my book will be a hit. They said I need to hammer social media, consolidate my brands, articulate a vision, etc.

If I knew a guy like me, I’d advise him to just keep doing what he’s doing, that it’ll all work out fine as long as I keep getting e-mails like this one from Sally H.:

“Two weeks ago, my college freshman daughter and I stood in Barnes & Noble in Robinson Town Center in Pittsburgh and skimmed through your book.  She giggled and giggled over some of the numbers.  I bought it when she wasn't looking and, when I was about to wrap it up for her birthday, I started to read it, and fell in love with it.

“The timing couldn't be more perfect. I am an 8th grade English teacher in a Pittsburgh-area public school and came home Friday quite discouraged over the state of public education.  But your book made me laugh and I think I can face the little cherubs tomorrow because of it.  

“Thank you for writing it. I plan on buying 3 more for my other daughters and husband. They'll love it also, I’m sure. Thanks for the smiles!”

More letters like that and my biggest problem won’t involve branding issues.

More like humility.

Good thing I’m married.

Related . . .

• The story of Palm Features

• Happy B-day to Bob Dylan & this blog

• How I became a PROSEtitute