Flashback 2007: Humor campaign — Politician banking on funny-sounding last name

Clown, by Charles DeForest Fredricks (Met)

    No column in the paper today — my big Erie Canal celebration was moved to Sunday (and yes, I know, your eyes roll up at just the thought of the Erie Canal. Mine did too. But read it; you'll be surprised).

    Cruising around old White House columns — I've visited a few times — I found this, and couldn't help be drawn in by my uproarious, boy-filled house.  I'm slightly amazed I got that wife's name in the newspaper — we were a more freewheelin' place at the time. As was I. Given the gravity of today, and my own fade into senescence, I doubt I could reproduce the spark of this piece. 

     Jay Footlik didn't win, needless to say, and had a surprising second act. Lately he is a lobbyist for Qatar. As such — geez — he is alleged to be a bagman in Qatargate, one of the countless scandals to plague Benjamin Netanyahu's regime, where his advisors are accused of being in the employ of the desert monarchy. A warrant is out for Footlik's arrest in Israel.

      And the question I concocted to pose to Control's "Ask the Experts" column is the same question I posed to myself, in different terms, this morning and just about every morning, until I settle down to the work of the day. So points for consistency.

OPENING SHOT . . .

     My family lives in a house of laughter — raucous, loud, echoing laughter, often at the expense of others. I could put on a pouty face, and solemnly pretend I'm sorry about that, but nobody else seems to be apologizing for themselves nowadays, so I'll just present being mean as a handicap and dare anybody to cast aspersions upon my disability.
     I do, however, feel a slight twinge at how my world view has infected my loved ones. Just this morning, my wife, a sweet young woman when I met her, walked into my office.
     "Look at this," she said with a guffaw, shoving a large blue brochure into my hands. " 'Jay Footlik for Congress.' Couldn't he have taken his wife's name?"
     "You mean Jill Asswype?" I said smirking. "I can try to find out."
     The good news is that his campaign acknowledges the oddness of his name -- among the several possible campaign slogans posted on his Web site is: "Jay Footlik: Funny name, serious experience."
     The Buffalo Grove resident was special assistant to President Bill Clinton and now is a security consultant trying to unseat Mark Kirk in the 10th Congressional District.
     "This is probably the best chance to get him," said Footlik, 42, who feels Kirk is vulnerable for his abrupt personality and his fawning support of the folly in Iraq.
     "He's a rubber stamp for this president," Footlik said.
     Being the sort of guy I am, I had to ask Footlik about his name.
     "It makes you tough as a kid," he said. "My father left when I was 4, so I never had any real connection on the Footlik side of the family until I got in the White House and, lo and behold, a lot of Footliks came out of the woodwork . . ."
     "As they tend to do when you get into the White House," I said, unable to stop myself.
     His Brazilian-born wife had the more euphonic maiden name of Grace Mozes -- why not just take her name, as my wife suggested. People do that.
     "She would have preferred it," he said, tactfully.
     Of course, Footlik's odd name also highlights a quality that Kirk lacks: humor.
     "The more people make fun of Jay's name, the more name recognition we get," said campaign manager Simon Behrmann, pointing out that others with funny names enter the political fray, such as John Manlove in Texas.
     "Or look at Barack Obama," he said. "It didn't hurt him."

HOT, DIRTY, FROTHY NIGHTMARE

     I can be like one of those creepy guys you meet at a party who shakes your hand then doesn't let go.
     Nancy J. Bartels of Itasca wrote a perfectly pleasant note, mentioning in passing that she is managing editor of Control, "a small B2B publication for process control engineers."
     Say no more! Would you, I asked, mind sending a few copies? As the former editor of the newsletter for Castle Metals in Franklin Park, I have a lingering affection for industrial publications. There's nothing like a good trade magazine to put dirt under your fingernails -- figurative dirt, I mean.
     Soon the September and October issues of Control were in my hands.
     The magazine is a tad too well-designed for my taste, with a sleek nameplate and nice layouts — I prefer my technology a little retro — but there were the requisite articles on "Distillation Control and Optimization" and "Measuring Flow of Gas-Entrained Liquids."
     The advertisements — remember, this industry measures stuff inside factories — are also a delight. Phoenix Contact boasts both "flexible expandability" and "hot-swappability" (and really, isn't that what guys in their 40s are looking for?). Magnetrol tosses a chummy arm around our shoulders and asks, "Torque Tube Displacer Problems?" (Is it that obvious? My torque tube displacer just isn't its old self anymore . . .)
     Then there is "Ask the Experts," a column "moderated by noted process control authority Bela Liptak."
     Anyone who claims that sharp writing can't be found in business publications didn't read the question from William Love of Kredit Automation in Liptak's October column headlined "Difficult Level Measurements."
     "We have a large tank in which sodium hydroxide is mixed into water and the high pH (>13.5) caustic mixture is heated to 200 degrees F. and continuously agitated and recirculated . . ." Love writes. "The fluid in the tank is a hot, dirty, frothy, corrosive nightmare. It is hard to measure level in there, and we have destroyed several types of sensors."
     Liptak's answer boils down to using a diaphragm to keep the liquid off the sensors, using its mass to gauge its level.
     I've been trying to think of what kind of tough calibration question I could pose to Bela Liptak:
     "I'm trying to measure a 47-year-old container under severe pressure, a roiling mixture of acid thoughts and base instincts, sometimes agitated and sometimes calm. My problem is that I'm not sure whether to calibrate it against smaller containers — in that case, it seems pretty full — or contrast my measurements to fuller, more placid containers, by whose measure it seems almost empty."

TODAY'S CHUCKLE

     I'm going to get in trouble for printing this joke — even worse, because I came up with it — but it's a little late to start getting squeamish.
     Blame Elie Wiesel. He was in town a few weeks ago, speaking at a luncheon for the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, and he mentioned that the present political situation worries him. "I'm a frightened Jew," he said, which, considering he lived through Auschwitz, is saying a lot.
     They give you a ton of materials at these things and, preparing to pitch them a few days later, I
noticed a card with the slogan "NEVER AGAIN!" And hence the joke, which I apologize for in advance.
     Times are always perilous for Jews, and it can be difficult to judge whether a particular moment is unusually worrisome, or merely offers the standard danger. Though I did notice that the Anti-Defamation League has quietly dropped its "Never Again" slogan and is now using, "Not Anytime Soon."

      — Originally published in the Sun-Times, Oct. 31, 2007