Three Documents and a PTA Meeting

After our tête-à-tête last week, I asked Bernice if she wouldn't mind adding up the bank loans and IOUs and credit lines the Casual-Observer accumulated over the last year. She gave me the total on Friday morning.

"How is it so much?" I asked her.
"How do you think?" she said.

I ate a bottle of Tums and went out for a walk. When I got back to C-O Central, the Fire Marshal was in my office. "Anything amiss?" I asked him. He said, "One or two things," which I now understand was humor. He left a list of 207 deficiencies, and said he'd be back in a month for a follow-up inspection. Then, as I was putting on my coat to go home, Bertie Bird's attorney delivered a settlement offer. (If you haven't read last week's news, you might as well.)

Since last week, I've had a better look at the contract Gertie signed when she bought her brother's interest in the Casual-Observer. It's less a "contract," really, and more the memo line on a very large check, where she wrote, "For your half of the paper, Buttface." Bertie's not disputing the last part (the resemblance is obvious), but he is contending that the money—ten million dollars—was a reimbursement for a ream of newsprint. He says he still owns half the C-O, and Gertie's sale to me is null and void.

Bertie's offer is fairly straightforward. He'd take the Sunday Casual-Observer and all its property, real and intellectual. In return, I'd get fresh air and ample free time.

With all this weighing on me, I went to visit Dr. Jane Nodderman, who helped me get clarity on a couple of points, which were (1) she is a child psychologist, and (2) I am not a client. She suggested I attend a PTA meeting, which I thought was odd advice, until I turned up at the address. Technically, I'm not supposed to talk about PTA, but I don't think anyone will mind. It stands for Pretentious Tycoons Anonymous. I did a double take when I walked in.

"Holy crap! Ted Turner," I said. "You're one of my idols. What are you doing here?"

"The same as you," he said. "Trying to become my better self."

"I thought you were dead," I said.

"Someday," he said wistfully. "Someday."

Ted was the facilitator, I discovered. I thought I might be the only one coming, but a couple of guys showed up late, attending under court order. Ted Turner said some words of welcome, then offered the group a chance to share. When no one volunteered, he turned to the man on my left.

"Jeff," he said, "how are things?"

"Great," said Jeff. "Thanks for asking."

"You can be honest here," said Ted Turner. "This is a safe place."

"I am being honest," said Jeff. "My newspaper was the best investment I ever made. I should have bought it years ago."

"Jeff," said Ted, "can we talk about last week, when I brought up integrity, and you got upset?"

"We could talk about minding our own damn business," said Jeff. "How would you feel about that?"

"We'll get there," said Ted. "What about you, Elon? Anything weighing on you tonight?"

"Nope," said Elon.

"Nothing the matter at Twitter?" said Ted Turner, gently.

"X," said Elon. "It's called X, asshole."

"You're right," said Ted Turner, "that's my fault. I'm sorry. X. I keep forgetting. You had financial statements coming out this week, I think? Any feelings you want to express?"

"Shut your fat face, Ted," said Elon.

"That's alright," said Ted Turner, "That's alright." He aimed his comforting blue eyes at me. "Tom," he said, "I'm glad you're here. You don't have to open up on your first evening, but if you want to, you're welcome."

"Gee," I said, "I don't know. I guess I've been feeling sort of—do you guys ever—do you sometimes feel like you might be kind of...bad at it? Tycoon stuff, I mean. Do you ever start thinking, 'Maybe I'm not meant to be a media mogul?'"

"Never had the thought," said Elon.
"Literally never," said Jeff.

"I guess it's just me," I said.

"That was a brave thing to say, Tom," said Ted Turner. "Me neither, I should state, but, all the same. Brave. Do you think you might be ready to take the next step? If I said the words, 'I don't need to be a newspaper tycoon,' how would it feel to try them on? Can that be your project this week?"

"Wow," I said. "Wow. I'll have to think about that."