Dayhoff Westminster Soundtrack: Howard Kurtz, the brown sweater and the teeny-tiny laptop

Friday, July 03, 2009

Howard Kurtz, the brown sweater and the teeny-tiny laptop

Howard Kurtz, the brown sweater and the teeny-tiny laptop - - Howard Kurtz of the Washington Post at the RNC on September 1, 2008.

Kevin Dayhoff July 3, 2009

Reading through Howard Kurtz’s Tweets and columns this morning, took me back - for whatever reason - to when I had a chance to chat with him for a few stolen moments – and snap his picture - at the Republican National Convention last September 2008.

The convention was held in a sports arena retrofitted for the quadrennial gathering of the party faithful for the purposes of nominating a Republican presidential and vice presidential candidate for the national elections last November.

The arena itself was located in St. Paul near the banks of the Mississippi River and it had the appropriate name – “Xcel Energy Center.” Emphasis on “Energy.”

Everyday, my first stop inside, once I breezed through the elaborate security checkpoints, was the coffee stand wisely located at the entrance.

“Whatta ya having,” asked a friendly well-dressed young lady behind the counter as she flashed a genuine smile.

“I’d like a large IV-drip with room for Geritol.” Coffee was a dear friend at this year’s convention. The days started hours before the 8 o’clock breakfast and more often than not, ended past midnight.

At the convention, I enjoyed the opportunity to meet and briefly speak with the likes of Karl Rove, Newt Gingrich, former Baltimore Sun reporter Eric Segal, who now reports for NPR, Howard Kurtz, the Washington Post columnist, new media blogger Andrew Breitbart - http://tinyurl.com/kl6rvl, Fred Davis, the media talent behind the McCain campaign ads, and actor Jon Voight.

One day I took a moment to meander around the media area and stumbled across Mr. Kurtz. He looked busy and somewhat lost in his own little world as everyone buzzed around him.

Although I cannot remember a word Mr. Kurtz said, I do recall that he was friendly. He peered up from his tiny laptop long enough to be cordial and polite, connected with a brief witty, self-effacing moment, and then went right back to work.

I was amused that he was working on this teeny-tiny laptop to the point that one wondered how his fingers could avoid hitting two keys at once.

He was slumped over his work, clad in a brown sweater, no tie, and a mischievous smile. He presented in stark contrast with the many media types who were there immaculately dressed in expensive suits, complete with a caricature grimace or self-important scowl – and an obvious need to go to the bathroom.

My photograph turned out grainy, but as I reflected upon the moment later, perhaps the only thing that would have made the scene more perfect would have been if he had a black coffee, a cigar dangling out of the corner of his mouth and a bottle of Jack Daniels adorning the corner of the snapshot printed in black and white.

So there was Howard – who looked up and said something like, “Hi, how are ya? Having a good convention? …” For a moment he seemed like all he had to do at the convention was to greet my wife and me. And then with a perfect polite verbal segue, he went back to work.

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