Haven't We All Been There...

I admit it: I'm a CNN addict

Sarah Hampson
shampson@globeandmail.com
October 31, 2008

Iam not alone.

I know, because at dinner the other night my friend confessed the same thing.

"Lou Dobbs," she moaned in mock exasperation. "I can't manage without Lou Dobbs."

And that's when I admitted it, too, right then and there, over my fettuccine.

My name is Sarah, and I am a CNN-a-holic.

I started to check in with Wolf and Lou and Larry years ago, whenever big news warranted it. But now, with the dramatic American election next Tuesday, I have reached a new level of CNNism.

Last week, I actually thought of leaving a production of Dirty Dancing at intermission so I could go home, put on my PJs and see what Anderson Cooper had to say.

It's all part of the entertainment reality show of contemporary American politics. There are the compelling narratives of the candidates, and then, on CNN at least, the hosts who embody archetypes of modern American society. Who needs to watch soap operas? Or read novels, for that matter?


A night with CNN is like checking in with a colourful array of characters, straight out of central casting. Who has a name like Wolf Blitzer except some construct in a white beard who addresses the nation's ills in a news set called The Situation Room?

Still, it's Lou, Lou with his nuclear teeth, that really gets me going. His veneers are so white they're like brand new halogen headlights on an old, beat-up Buick. He is Mr. Independent, we are told, and he huffs and puffs and goes into great shows of indignant disgust over the actions of John McCain and Henry Paulson and Barack Obama - anyone, really, as long as they are in the news. He shamelessly panders to the disaffected and undecided voters. It's all part of his shtick, his brand of crotchety-buzzard punditry. Sigh, no one annoys me so perfectly.

At 8 p.m., Campbell Brown follows with her "No Bias, No Bull" hour on politics. There's a lot of Campbell Soup about Ms. Brown, who looks like a soccer mom out on a date. (And did you hear her personal news on Tuesday night? She announced that she's pregnant with her second child.) When she admonishes the politicians in a short monologue at the start of her show, it's hard not to feel that she's lecturing a bunch of poorly behaved schoolboys. She is asking for the truth - no bias, no bull - just like a mother with her hands on her hips who wants to know where in the world her 14-year-old has been until God knows what hour of the night.

Then comes Larry King. Is it me or is he becoming more bad-tempered? The king of the softball questions has taken to jutting his jaw out in the manner of a grandpa adjusting his dentures.

Anderson Cooper, at 10 p.m., is Mr. Ralph Lauren. The son of socialite and heiress Gloria Vanderbilt, he has the entitled air of someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth. But he tries so hard to hide it! He goes to hurricane hot spots and reports from flooded streets in hip waders, like a Ken doll reporter-dude who can empathize with the masses and get dirty, too.
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Of course, the pundits and reporters the hosts bring on - often the same ones, hour after hour - are addictive, too. They are, as we are incessantly reminded, part of "the best political team on television." Comedian Jessi Klein even sent an early Valentine to David Gergen, Mr. Bad Comb-over, the respected adviser to several presidents. "Keep on being all adorable and Gergeny and we will keep loving you," she said in a videotaped message, likening his voice to "white-noise machines that make ocean noises." She made her tribute as a joke on Mr. Anderson's show while Mr. Gergen was there. (Don't be fooled by Mr. Anderson's silver hair, by the way. He's such a boy-scout type, but he likes to play pranks on his guests.)

People have other media addictions this election season. On Saturday, I phoned a friend who said she couldn't talk right then because she was watching The Daily Show with Jon Stewart on the Internet. "It's my fix," she explained. She also can't stop checking in with politico.com and huffingtonpost.com.

I like all those, too, but it's CNN that has changed my habits.

"Mom," my 21-year-old son said in horror the other night. "You're watching CNN again?" He looked very concerned, like a parent. "You're becoming one of those people..." he trailed off, suggesting I was on the slippery slope of midlife, couch-potato decline.

"Yes," I replied calmly. "I am."

For now. Rehab starts Wednesday, the morning after the election.
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Pictures and graphic from Peter's archives.