Fey had listeners going for almost an hour--until he confessed that it was an April Fool's prank and noted that it would have been tough to wear shorts in Washington, D.C.
But Fey's feint wasn't all that unlikely, considering everything else that's gone on in the First District. First, of course, there was Schroeder's surprise announcement that she wasn't going to run again for a seat she's held over two decades. That had long-suffering local Democrats suddenly jockeying for position: First Lady Wilma Webb flirted with announcing her candidacy, then decided against it; state lawmaker Doug Friednash actually announced, then backed out after news of an advanced flirtation hit the media and decimated his support; and, most recently, Chief Deputy District Attorney Craig Silverman said that Dems dissatisfied with the remaining candidates--Diana DeGette, Les Franklin and Tim Sandos--were urging him to join the fray. Until, that is, it turned out that Silverman had dropped his Democratic Party affiliation a few years ago and would have to run as an independent.
A Fey candidacy would have faced an even higher hurdle: The promoter lives in Arapahoe County, not Denver. But audience response during his one-hour run got him thinking about becoming more politically involved. "Maybe I'll even go to a caucus," he said. "Where are they, anyway?"
Radio daze: Fey's stunt pales beside the infamous prank of two DJs at another Jacor-owned station, KBPI; two weeks ago Roger Beaty, Dean Myers and two other employees invaded a Muslim mosque, blaring braggadocio and the "Star-Spangled Banner"--and giving Denver yet another black eye in the national press. With the aid of defense attorney Walter Gerash, who volunteered to help the Colorado Muslim Society, the idiocy has come to closure: Three of the clueless quartet appeared at the mosque Sunday, the same day Jacor ran a full-page apology in the Denver dailies; on Monday the culprits apologized on the air (taking several shots at management in the process). Gerash's terms reportedly included the station agreeing not to broadcast programs that would offend any religion, nationality, race or gender.
Which pretty much rules out most on-air "talent."
Senator Ben Nighthorse Campbell, still recovering from the ignominy of being unseated as Banana Republic pinup (after Rocky Flats grand jury attorney Jonathan Turley complained to the clothing company that the senator wasn't environmentally correct), sustained another hit in the April Fool's edition of Roll Call, which reported that Campbell was returning to the Democratic Party because Republicans don't like bikers, much less senators posing in leathers.
But Campbell wore a white hat in another D.C. imbroglio: After longtime cashier Bernice Harris was moved out of the Senate coffeeshop because she called a young male customer "baby," Campbell demanded she be reinstated. "We are so PC around this place, it makes you want to vomit," he told a reporter. "It's gotten so doggone bad you can't even tell someone they have on a pretty dress or that their necktie looks good."
Now, about those leather pants...
