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155 18 Good-bye to Fox American Idol and I don’t mesh. I’m not good at dissolving news into entertainment . My heroes in broadcasting are Huntley and Brinkley, and Cronkite, Chancellor, Sevareid, and Edward R. Murrow. I know what Murrow would say about American Idol and Rupert Murdoch’s Fox News: “Good night, and good-bye.” He’d have nothing to do with either one of them. Sadly, our news is like Rupert Murdoch himself, dancing with stars. Our broadcasts are star struck. Fox News and I don’t get along, not anymore. My contract will be up soon, and I know that barring a revolution at corporate headquarters in New York, I won’t be offered a new one. In fact, an anchor just hired is being described by the media as my replacement-in-waiting. He is Mark Suppelsa from WMAQ-Channel 5, and rumor has it there’s a clause in his contract assuring him that by the end of a certain period of time, he’ll be lead anchor on our evening broadcast. If not, Fox will pay him a hefty sum. How much, and at what time, I don’t know. I’m not privy to the negotiations or the company’s plans. I may get yanked from the anchor desk the way Stacey was yanked from the GM’s office, without notice, which is SOP in the TV news business. For now, Suppelsa is a third anchor in the studio with Robin and me, on the set of our late evening news, reading stories for a few minutes every night. This is causing some unease in the shop about how uncomfortable I may be sharing my role. I’m not happy about it, of course, but can’t avoid it, and I must agree that Mark’s a good choice to replace me. He’s experienced, believable, well-informed (there’s always a New York Times on his desk in the morning), a seriously committed and competitive journalist of integrity. Unlike so many others on the market for local anchor positions, Mark Suppelsa is not a Ken doll (and Robin Robinson, my coanchor, and his to be, certainly is not a Barbie; on the contrary, she’s as no-nonsense a news anchor as there is in the United States, a Chicago fixture as tough as they come). 156 G O O D - B Y E T O F O x Mark is patient, respectful, and sensitive to my angst. The newsroom likes him, and the viewers seem to. He’s forty years old (I’m sixty-seven), a very nice guy. When I have to raise anchor, if his is the one to be dropped, I’ll be okay. I will not be okay if I have to give up the commentary. There are too many good ones to do. Mayor Daley has now won his fifth term and is being battered by that persistent federal investigation and our exposing shenanigans under his nose. There’s a scandal of monstrous proportions looming that involves huge sums of money in the city’s trucking business. While under cover of a dark night, the mayor has sparked a fire by cutting up runways at Meigs Field airport to make space for another one of his public parks. George W. Bush is running for reelection. Barack Obama is running for the US Senate. Former governor George Ryan soon will be in prison, and former governor Rod Blagojevich won’t be far behind. With something new to chew on every day, I’m in reporter-anchor-commentator paradise. Unfortunately for my television managers, and for me personally, my paradise sometimes is their paradise lost. Commentary is a threat to the financial well-being of our station. It’s inviting our advertisers to attack. Looking back: I did a “Perspective” on Fox Chicago one night about a family unable to pay its heating bills. Winter was blowing terrible winds, and the children were cold. No money, no gas. Peoples Gas turned it off. I went after the utility, which accused me of being inaccurate. Desirée Rogers, a Peoples Gas vice president (and future White House social secretary) called Marks-Bronner, my general manager, to demand a retraction, and to threaten to stop spending millions on Fox for advertising time. Stacey requested my presence in her office. Did I make a mistake? No, I didn’t, and I had interviews and paperwork to back up everything...

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