Head Strong: The day a talker got ambushed on television

By Michael Smerconish - Inquirer

Inquirer Currents Columnist

Michael Smerconish's new book, "Morning Drive: Things I Wish I Knew Before I Started Talking," will be available starting tomorrow. In the meantime, an excerpt follows:

By the spring of 2007, Bill Maher's program on HBO was probably the only remaining TV show for politics on which I had not appeared. Still, I was surprised when, completely out of the blue and with no book to promote, I was invited to come to California and do the show.

The only date mutually agreeable was Friday, March 30, 2007, which was the end of our children's spring break. My wife and I were already planning to spend the week in Florida with the kids. And I was preparing to broadcast my radio show from there, as I have often done. Then I'd take a flight cross-country in time (hopefully) to grab a quick nap before my appearance on Bill Maher's program that evening. . . .

In advance of the show, I was asked by Maher's representatives whether I had any friends whom I wished to invite to the broadcast. Well, the only people I could identify as friends in California were Maureen Faulkner and Paul Palkovic. Maureen is the widow of Police Officer Daniel Faulkner; she and I wrote Murdered by Mumia together. Paul is the man now in her life. Like the good friends they are, Maureen and Paul said they'd love to watch me do the show. They came to the CBS studio that doubles, or did at the time, as the location where Bob Barker hosted The Price Is Right. As a matter of fact, I remember seeing the prize wheels for the show backstage before I went on.

The other panelists that night were comedian D.L. Hughley and Catherine Crier from Court TV. I thought I had a good history with Catherine Crier because a few years prior she and I had done a pilot for CNN. I knew little about Hughley other than the fact that our sons watched his sitcom.

As you know if you watch Real Time, the three panelists sit side-by-side, across from Maher. Other guests may come and go via satellite, but the exchange between the panelists and Maher is the mainstay of the program. I was assigned the seat closest to the audience, which, I had noticed from prior viewing, was where the more conservative of the panelists was always placed. I suspected that was a tip-off to the audience that this person is the foil for the broadcast. During my appearance, when things got a bit ugly between Maher and me, I dubbed it the "wing-nut chair," and after I drew attention to the location of the designated hot seat, they started rotating the chairs of the guests in subsequent shows.

I didn't expect to win too many friends in Hollywood, but I was prepared to have fun. Unfortunately, Maher's idea was that the fun would be at my sole expense. . . . Very quickly the show became a three on one. After my very first substantive exchange, Bill was quick to tell me that I had made a "dumb-ass" argument. The subject was Iraq. Keep in mind that I, like Maher, favored getting out of Iraq, but I wanted to make the point that things would get ugly when we do so:

Smerconish: I hope that the very people who say, "Get out immediately" are going to have a stomach to watch the footage on television when it all collapses when we're gone. . . . I'm saying, prepare yourself because you're going to watch it. So get American soldiers out of harm's way.

Maher: [OVERLAPPING] We're watching it now! Every bad thing that could happen is happening now, and it has been happening for years there now. [APPLAUSE] That's - that's a dumb-ass argument.

Things went from bad to worse when I made a gratuitous reference to the Ten Commandments. The irony here was - and it shows how little it mattered what I actually said - that I was attempting to make the argument that in the 2008 presidential cycle it would be important for the Republicans to avoid the temptation to drive the party base by pushing social issues, such as opposing same-sex marriages or endorsing the need to post the Ten Commandments in public places and, rather, focus on the non-social issues. That is something in sync with Bill Maher's view of the world. Instead of recognizing our commonality, he used this as a jumping-off point to literally debate me on the merits of the Ten Commandments.

Smerconish: I think that the message is, I would hope, the party is at a crossroads. And instead of this cycle buying the usual flag-burning amendment or bashing homosexuals or trotting out the Ten Commandments - and I believe in them, I just don't believe in using them as a political gimmick - we want somebody who is going to be tough on defense, but more moderate on those social issues. And Giuliani fits that bill. And John McCain, to a certain extent, fits that bill as well.

Maher: So you - but wait a second - you believe in the Ten Commandments?

Smerconish: I believe in the Ten Commandments.

Maher: So, like, you can't work on Sunday and you can't swear, and you can't make statues to other gods? [LAUGHTER]

In the ridiculous exchange that followed, Maher insinuated that I thought things like "no swearing" and "not working on Sunday" were more important than issues like rape and child abuse. The bickering continued until Hughley interjected a moment of levity, saying, "You motherf- need to calm down!"

I remember thinking, what a d- bag Maher turned out to be. I flew all the way out here to offer some views and have a couple of laughs, but instead, I was getting the s- kicked out of me on late-night TV. And the only thing the audience knew about me was that I was a skinhead and seated in the chair of evil.

Any question about how badly the show had gone for me was answered by the expression on Maureen Faulkner's face afterwards. She and Paul greeted me in the green room, and while her mouth said, "You were terrific," her wide eyes told me otherwise.