Verwandte Artikel zu Spin

Spin - Softcover

Lowe, Tom

 
9780671019242: Spin
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0671019244 ISBN 13: 9780671019242
Verlag: Gallery Books, 1999

Inhaltsangabe

An unforgettable chronicle of political seduction, Spin is a whip-smart look at a world of thrilling excess, raw power, and utter ruthlessness—laying bare the American democratic process in action, and in the flesh.

Plunging into California politics armed with a lethal tongue and a taste for power, Gulf War veteran Jim Asher lands a plum role in Republican Edward Winston's bare-knuckle Senate campaign. Learning spin control from the master—Bud Raper, the crude hired gun who catapulted both Reagan and Bush into the Oval office—Jim quickly becomes the hottest new political consultant west of the Washington Beltway, an Armani-clad Machiavelli who snaps up the perks of a six-figure salary and illicit liaisons with everyone from loyal party girls to roving celebrity reporters. Through it all, Jim keeps his eyes on the ultimate prize—Washington.

But when the stakes of the game are raised, Jim comes face-to-face with an unexpected nemesis: his own conscience. With more than one shark prowling the waters, Jim is forced to risk everything—a choice that threatens to trigger a political shakedown of epic proportions.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Tom Lowe worked as an aide in Michael Huffington's 1994 run for the Senate in California, and later became the youngest person ever to serve as director of public affairs for the speaker of the California Assembly. He was a producer for The McLaughlin Group in Washington, appeared in two Hollywood films, and fought in Operation Desert Storm. He is the author of Spin and lives in California.

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Chapter One
I had just returned from a summer in Europe and had no idea what the hell I was going to do with my life. After four years on my own, with little to show for it, I was back living with my parents. But with Disneyland ten minutes away, Hollywood just up the 405, and the waves pounding the shore right off our porch, Newport Beach was my kind of town -- larger than life, self-mythologizing.
I came in from the beach one weekday afternoon and hosed off my surfboard. My mom was reading on our back porch.
"How's the water, sweetheart?" she asked.
"A little chilly," I said. "Nothing like the Mediterranean in June." I draped a towel over my shoulders, sat down at the patio table, and poured myself an iced tea. "Why are you home from work so early, Mom?"
"I had a parent conference this afternoon. One of my kids is having some emotional problems; he's been kicking other students."
"Fun."
My mom was a counsellor for severely handicapped kids at the local high school. I had worked as an aide in her classroom when I went there. Of course, she always gave me great recommendations. I loved my mom more than anyone; she seemed perfect in all respects.
"Have you given any more thought to what we were talking about?" she asked.
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I like kids, and being a teacher sounds pretty good, but there's no money in it."
"Well, that's true. But, Jim, you wouldn't have to do it forever. I could help you get your credentials in about two months, and then you could just teach until you decide what you really want to do. You'd have your summers off."
"I guess. I'm still thinking about it. But I don't wanna live at home forever. I need to make some real money, so I can get out on my own."
"You know you're welcome here as long as you need a place, sweetheart. Another thing is, a lot of politicians get their start by teaching, if you're still thinking about that for a career. Mayor Preston was a teacher for ten years before he ran for the city council. I'll bet the mayor would even let you volunteer in his office during your summer breaks. That could be your foot in the door."
"I'll think about it. Thanks, Mom."
I walked inside and sat down to watch TV with my brother, Jake.
"So, what's up for this weekend, bro?" he asked.
"There's a big party Friday, down on Forty-second. I heard they're getting two kegs. I don't know what's up Saturday. I'm getting kinda sick of the same old parties, though -- same chicks, same brawls, same stupid conversations."
Jake nodded. He was a sophomore in college, so he was still in full party mode -- every Friday and Saturday night, every weekend, guaranteed. But to me the weekends had all been blurring together lately. Sometimes it felt like I was just going through the motions, acting out the role expected of me, waiting for something real to happen in my life.
"Hey, wanna go backpacking next weekend?" Jake asked. "Hit the Sierras?"
"Maybe. Let me see what's going on with all these job applications. I'm pretty much broke. My ATM is more like a slot machine these days. I put my card in and I have absolutely no idea what's gonna come out. I'm always like, 'Come on, baby, twenty for daddy!'"
Jake smiled. "That's why we should go now, before you get stuck working."
"True. A few days trekking through Yosemite does sound pretty good."
I kicked my feet up on the coffee table, dusting its top with sand from the beach. I leaned back and relinquished my brain to the television, ready to burn away a few hours. Just then, a clever political ad came on for Edward Winston, labeling his opponent, California Senator Dana Steadfield, as "the liberal Democrat who loves to spend your money."
I was a political junkie, so I always kept up with everything in politics, but my time in Europe had put me slightly out of the loop. "Who is this Edward Winston guy?" I asked Jake.
"He's some rich guy running for the Senate. He has like four hundred million dollars. He's been destroying Senator Steadfield with these attack ads all summer. I think she's starting to slip in the polls."
"Good. It's about time someone stepped up to the plate. Steadfield is such a big, liberal bitch. I'd love to see her get booted out of Washington."
"Dude, you'd be amazed at all the ads Winston is running. You can't even turn on the TV without seeing one. I heard he's gonna spend whatever it takes to win."
Now that would be a cool place to work. I walked into my bedroom and dialed information.
"Hello, what city, please?" the operator asked.
"Uh...I don't know," I said.
"What listing, please?"
"Winston Senate campaign."
"Hold, please..." A few seconds passed. "I don't have anything for that."
"Okay, give me the Republican Party's phone number in Orange County."
"Hold, please..."
I called the GOP headquarters and got the address for the Winston campaign office in Santa Ana, only ten minutes away. I threw on some cheap slacks with suspenders and a tie -- I wanted to look like Michael Douglas in Wall Street -- and drove to Santa Ana. I was feeling spontaneous. What did I have to lose?
Once I found the correct address, I parked my Ford Probe and strolled up to the three-story building, which looked like any other mirrored office complex. I went through the lobby and up to the third floor. My heart was pumping. An engraved gold plaque on the door read: EDWARD WINSTON, US SENATE. When I walked through the door, I saw all kinds of commotion -- everyone was running around talking to at least two or three people at the same time; dozens of fax machines were whizzing and screaming; a camera crew from Channel 4 was setting up to interview someone; and the beautiful young receptionist was staring at me, as if to say, Do you have any idea what you're getting into?
After sitting around for an hour, I was shuffled into the volunteer coordinator's office. He was a short guy named Ted. Pictures of Ronald Reaganwallpapered his office. I was very nervous as I sat down.
"So," he said, "the receptionist tells me you want to volunteer, huh?"
"Well, actually, I'm looking for a job."
"We don't hire people off the streets. Um, that's not to say you're a street person...uh...how did you hear about the campaign?"
"I saw one of those ads you're running on TV."
He grinned. "Pretty awesome, aren't they. Did you see the illegal alien one?"
"No. I saw the 'Democrat who loves to spend your money' one."
He laughed out loud. "That one's great! God, do I love that one!"
He had me smiling. This Ted guy, sitting there in his Ralph Lauren shirt, flanked by images of Reagan, was the real deal: a big-shot political player. But at the same time, I was keenly aware that I could do his job better than him. Not to brag, because there are extreme downsides to being a highly intelligent and lucid thinker -- Dostoyevsky called it a curse -- but since my earliest memories, I had always been aware of my abilities, and I always believed that if I was given a fair chance, in any situation, I could excel past everyone.
"Well," Ted said, glancing down at my résumé, "Jim...Well, Jim, it says here you were in the army."
"Four years."
"You're a Persian Gulf veteran, eh?"
"Yep."
"Well, you guys did a great job over there, I gotta tell you. I used to stay up all night watching CNN. Amazing. So, anyway, what other campaigns have you worked, Jim?"
"Actually, this will be my first. But I've been into politics ever since I can remember. In fact, when I was a kid, I would always skip Voltron or Tom & Jerry to catch Brinkley or Face the Nation. My neighborhood buddies thought it was a little strange."
"I know what you're saying. Great. And I see you have an English degree. Where do you picture yourself ten years from now, Jim?"
"Probably in the White House."
"What, as president?"
"No, no. I'm not exactly...

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Verlag
Gallery Books
Erscheinungsdatum
1999
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0671019244
ISBN 13 
9780671019242
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
304
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Simon and Schuster Netherlands BV
info@simonandschuster.nl

Herculesplein 96
Utrecht
3584 AA
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