Weary Wednesdays: And Another One Bites the Dust

South Carolina. Home of smiling faces, beautiful places and countless scandals. From the first shots fired on Ft. Sumter, my home state has been a hotbed for notoriety (do the names Shannon Faulkner and Susan Smith ring a bell?), most recently with Governor Mark Sanford's mysterious disappearance and hike on the Appalachian Trail, which apparently now extends all the way to Argentina.

While his year-long affair with an Argentinian woman seems to be the big story, the more fascinating part of this tale for me is his week-long disappearance. Politicians have been having affairs since the beginning of time, but I can't remember the last time one went completely AWOL. Can you imagine Jed Bartlett taking off without Leo McGarry knowing his whereabouts?

What a failure in crisis communications. And if his staff did have a crisis plan, they certainly didn't use it. While the average Jane might be able to take a week's vacation for a secret international tryst disguised as a solo hike in the wilderness, you just can't get away with that when you're an elected official. And the cover story they concocted was simply ludicrous, especially considering that it was Father's Day weekend, his wife pretty much said she didn't know or care about his whereabouts AND Sanford's car was found parked at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.

I've dealt with my share of communications crises, and I'm grateful that none of them were this newsworthy (though we were still getting angry emails about ASO Principal Guest Conductor Donald Runnicles several months after he mouthed off about moving to Canada!). I do feel bad for his staff, because tactically, it's kind of impossible to manage media relations if your client keeps you in the dark. But if your own wife tells the press she has no clue where you are, you know the jig is going to be up--and soon. While his affair may have caught up with him eventually, Sanford could have dealt with it on his own terms if he'd had the common sense to 1. concoct a decent cover story and 2. keep his communications staff in the loop.

And this is exactly why--in spite of my daydreams about becoming the next C. J. Cregg'--I will happily stick to lifestyle and arts/entertainment PR. And pray that my clients don't suddenly develop a penchant for trashing hotels, and if they do, that they're not quite famous enough for Perez Hilton to care!

Good Eats

When you're self-employed-especially if you're in the business of shamelessly promoting yourself and others--pretty much every social outing can feel like a business function--some more fun than others.

Fun: expensing Cinco de Mayo margaritas.

Not-so-fun: stuffy cocktail parties and anything that happens before noon.

Tonight's outing fell into the "fun" category. Ever since I heard about rougeApron, an independent underground supper club, I've wanted to attend an event. I'm a notoriously picky eater, but my wonderful husband--a passionate advocate for local food--has convinced me to step out of my comfort zone and discover the wonders of grass-fed beef, vegetables fresh from the ground (dirt and all) and berries plucked in their prime.

Given my career and the ease with which I make new friends, you'd never guess that new people and new situations are always a bit stressful for me. Add in some unknown food, and well, I'm lucky I didn't have to pop a few Xanax before heading out to our secret location, which shockingly, did not involve a suspect alley door or secret password.

What it did involve was a beet pasta salad (yes, Mom, I ate something with beets!), the world's most fabulous cupcakes and conversation with some really interesting people, including two runners (hey Kathy and Travis!) and Jen and Ryan, who host another underground supper club, Prelude to the Staple House. Not surprising, as Lady Rogue herself has some really creative, engaging people in her network. It just goes to show that when good food, good causes and good people are involved, you'll always be among kindred spirits.