Well, sorta.
This is my story and I’m sticking to it:
In early October 2004, my thoughts were consumed by the race for President of the United States between President G.W. Bush – then gunning for his second term – and Senator John Kerry. The contentious campaigns had by then reached the “Your mama, and your daddy too!” stage when name-calling supersedes anything resembling constructive-issues dialogue. Only a superhero could save this thing from sinking further into the muck.
In other words, Oprah, then the empress of television and, really, the nation. My producer pal Erik Nelson got me good and riled up and assured me, “Oprah needs to get involved. What’s her deal?” It pushed me to act.
Fueled by Erik’s righteous indignation, I raised the idea of Oprah needing to come to the rescue in my weekly Hollywood Reporter column The Pulse. Moreover, I posed plenty of questions that day. Why wouldn’t Oprah discuss the Presidential race on her show? Why didn’t she have the candidates on to answer questions weightier than, “Why don’t you smile more, senator?” She seemed to be willfully disengaged from the forthcoming election. Didn’t she care about America?
Around 2:30 that afternoon, my home office phone (still a landline then) rang. I picked it up.
“Ray Richmond, please.”
“Speaking.”
“It’s Oprah Winfrey.”
It was instantly clear this was no imposter. That distinctive voice and manner. Her Highness, inexplicably and surrealistically on Line 1. No assistant announcing, “Please hold for Miss Winfrey.” Just her.
“Hello Ray” she said coolly.
My brain went into overdrive: God called me Ray! God called me Ray!
“Um, hello Oprah,” I replied, doing my best impression of someone who wasn’t completely freaked out. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t buying it.
“I’m here with four of my producers joining us on this call. We read your column today with great interest. We were wondering what you might suggest we do on the show to involve the Presidential candidates.”
“Seriously?”
I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken aloud until she replied, “Oh absolutely.”
My face grew suddenly flushed. It felt like an out-of-body experience, as if I were hovering above my shellshocked self. I put down the receiver for a second to shake loose the cobwebs. Yes, I was conscious. Yes, I was about to enter an “Oprah” story meeting as an unpaid consultant.
I had abruptly transformed from a slovenly freelance journalist in his underwear into the go-to dude for Queen Oprah I.
But wait.
“So then let me get this straight,” I finally uttered. “Do you really care what I have to say or is this you just yanking my chain with, like, ‘OK Mister Smarty Pants, what bright ideas ya got, hmmmm?’”
I frankly couldn’t believe my own audacity, that I had the presence of mind to speculate aloud if this were just a sporty opportunity to belittle and intimidate some media dweeb.
“No, we really care what you have to say,” Oprah assured me. “Your column got us to really thinking. So what are YOUR thoughts?”
It was utterly inconceivable. She had deemed my judgment worthy of…well…something. Life had handed me Oprah, so I made Oprah-ade, proceeding over the next 15 minutes to tell her and her production minions how to run their show. A week of shows with Bush. A week of shows with Kerry. Lots of audience questions. Nationally televised town hall meetings. Nothing all that radical, frankly. Common sense stuff.
They all seemed to embrace what I had to say. Oprah thanked me for my time and my ideas, assuring me after the fact this had all been off the record (the statute of limitations on that has run out, I’ve decided). She promised to give my suggestions serious consideration. She said goodbye.
And then she proceeded to do nothing. Nada. Zip.
Fast forward 2 1/2 years to May 2007. Oprah has announced that she was endorsing Illinois Senator Barack Obama for President in 2008. Not only did she leap headfirst into the election fray; she did it with 18 months to spare. She became a one-woman promotional machine for the man who would win the White House.
Why the sudden political passion and zealotry from a woman who previously kept partisanship and TV as separate as church and state? One might have guessed that it stemmed from Obama’s race, or his Illinois roots, or his Kennedy-esque youth and vitality.
Or…One might step back to a certain telephone conversation in October 2004 with a journalist who called Oprah out, stoked her conscience, unchained her accountability…and left her determined to do things differently the next time.
Were you to reach the latter conclusion – and I’m hoping you will – while at the same time crediting Oprah’s enthusiastic support with an essential assist in Obama’s ascension to the Oval Office, it would mean that I personally altered the very direction of the Free World.
Yeah. Let’s go with that.
And now here Oprah is again, back this week endorsing Kamala Harris for President and likely going on the road to campaign for her.
You’re welcome.
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