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Volume 786 - Carville, Conason & Steele


Click  Here


 May 6-7, 2002 

 It was awful.
 It was terrible.
 It was a disaster.
 Nobody showed up.

 I'd spent all that money and the place was deader than a cemetary at night.
 No, ...wait, ...that's my Hard Rock Island story from 1987...

 I have the Juliefest2002-DC story here somewhere...

 Oh, good - I found it...


 It was a spectacular success, thanks to Christian Livemore.
 There wouldn't have even been a Juliefest without her endless hours of behind-the-scenes work.

 Juliefest2002-DC was nine days ago, and I couldn't take notes, so all I can do is
 try to re-construct what happened that weekend. This isn't necessarily what happened, it's what
 I think I remember. This is important because I'll be quoting people who won't want to be misquoted,
 so this is my impression of what probably happened:


 We landed in Baltimore about 4:30 and rented a temporary Bartmobile with 44 miles on it.
 That was an omen from Koresh that it would be a good weekend.

 We got to DC about 6 PM, but we got lost because the idiots don't label the highways with the same
 names the maps use. The map says "I-95" but the highway signs give you the slang name the locals use.
 We finally located the spirits store with the Chinaco and Julie's Grey Goose, but the only Goose they had
 was $55 and the bottle probably weighed more than Julie so I bought some Belvedere for her vodka tonics.
 By this time,  it was 7:30 and I had to use all my driving skills to outwit the Georgetown traffic to get to the hotel by 9.

 I couldn't reach anyone by phone, so I figured Christian and Julie and the King of Israel were "holding court" in
 the hotel bar. After a while, Christian called my cell phone and came to our room. We tried to figure out a way
 for me to meet Julie. I didn't want to meet her in public because there was a chance I'd go all Bob Dole at
 Nixon's funeral on her when the moment arrived. So Chriatian went to get Julie in the bar to send her to
 our room so we could finally meet.

 Amazingly, I handled it like a man and kept my emotions in check. Julie live is more of a tornado than Julie
 on the phone, so it was a really big moment for Mrs. Bart and me. I poured Julie a Belvedere tonic and a
 tallboy Chinaco for myself while Mrs. Bart had her Zinfandel. We chatted for a while and toasted the
 so-far success of at least arriving in one piece and then Christian called and said the kitchen was about
 to close, so we went downstairs.

 Unbeknownst to me, there were a dozen or so  bartcop.com  readers in the restaurant. (By the way,
 some call themselves Bartians, or Bartcoppers, but we should probably agree to settle on a single name
 if for no other reason than to save me a bunch of typing)  Somehow, they knew Julie left to get us,
 so when she came back into the restaurant, they stood to great her and then, I think it was Bob R from
 Oklahoma looked at me and said, "So, you must be BartCop..."

 I was sooo busted.
 I knew it was coming, but I didn't know when.


 Shaken by the unexpected outtage, I said something really clever like,  "Am I under oath?"
 From the stupidity, they knew it had to be me.  It was the last thing I remember clearly.

 So we're standing there talking to Bob R, Atrios, Julie RB and her husband, Onehandle, The Brew, a former
 judge from Chicago who came to meet Julie, Zomar, and a lot of people whose names I'm leaving out - sorry.

 We eventually pulled 2-3 tables together and ate and drank and talked politics.  The dump closed an hour later,
 so we moved the party to Blackie's, next door.  Blackie's is a wild, swirling-lights disco place with screaming
 speakers, so talk was tough. Some (like Julie) stayed till 3, but I knew tomorrow would be tough so we split early.


 Saturday there was so much to do.
 We had to get the flowers, we had to get a second cake.
 We had to whip Rude Rich's butt on a pool table.

  First, we secured the flowers:

            Bad picture of good flowers
 Julie said she liked irises, and we got the last five in Washington.

 We had to meet Maria at Carville's at noon to go over last-minute details.
 Maria is a real charmer. She's smart, she's pretty and she knows what the hell she's doing.
 She showed up with the massive, primary cake for Julie.   She explained how things could
 work and gave us options. We generally went with her recommendations, because she was a pro.
 She had already met with the calligraphy lady and signs were already prepared.
 She answered every question Christian and I had, so we felt ready for the big party.

 Christian went back to the hotel to join the Julie Lunch organized by JulieRB.
 Estimates say 40-60 lunchers were there, and since I don't know Smirk about it,
 maybe someone could write up a full report for tomorrow's issue?

 Meanwhile, Lorena and I...

 Sidebar:
 I ...kinda, ..sorta, ...forgot to warn Mrs. BartCop that she had that nickname.
 This is jumping ahead, but later that night we all had nametags on to lower confusion.
 Mine said "Bart" and hers said "Mrs. Bart," so people were coming up to her saying,
 "Lorena, it's nice to meet you. Bart has told us so much about you..."

 I got a stare from Mrs. Bart that probably looked a lot like the one Hillary gave Bill
 when he finally explained the exact legal definition of "sexual relations" to her.
 But she's a trooper, so she agreed to shelve my punishment till later.

 So we're cruising Georgetown looking for the same bakery that made the BIG cake
 to see if they can make a quick cake-on-the-fly. It was Furin's Deli on Massachusetts Ave.
 Can they make a good cake?

 ha ha

 We ate lunch there and ordered our specially custom-decorated cake.
 They said to come back in a few hours, so we had time to locate a florist and she located
 the last five irises in DC and constructed a nice arrangement for Julie's room.

 All I had to do now was kick Rude Rich's butt at pool, pick up the cake and get dressed.
 That happened. (plus I got to meet the lovely Elaine, AKA Mrs. Rude Rich)
 Note to Rude Rich - remember, there's no shame in losing to the champ!

  Sidebar:
 Rich told me to walk to the pool hall, but I'd already called them and they said they had
 "plenty of parking," so I drove. And I drove. And I drove. And I drove.  I went around
 that damn Dupont Circle about a dozen times and couldn't catch 19th St NW going south
 because it was one-way and all the adjoining streets conspired against me to help Rich!
 After 45 minutes of circular driving, I parked the damn car in a $4 an hour garage and walked
 FARTHER to the damn pool hall than it was from my hotel!

 After the bloodletting pool schooling , I picked up the secondary cake.

  Sidebar:
 Julie had told me her prosecutor's name was David Barger, and that Barger said,
 "Your conviction is a piece of cake," which meant 40 years for Julie, no less.

 So how we gonna have cake and not mention that?

 Can you imagine what it's like to have the rest of your future life
 reduced to a slogan to be scrawled on the top of a cake?

 Everything seemed to be running like clockwork until someone asked if anyone had seen Julie.


 It was 4:30, then 4:45 and there was no Julie.
 The plan called for a high-rollers party from 5-6, then pictures at Carville's from 6-7,
 then party from 7-10 or whatever, but that's tough to do without Julie.
 As you know, she was an important part of the evening, and we couldn't find her.
 No answer in her room, no answer to a page in the restaurant, I called every
 cell phone number I had for the various BartCoppers, but nobody had seen Julie.

 You've heard of "Clinton Time?"
 We were on "Julie Time."

 I had a shot of Chinaco to calm my nerves.

 Around 5, Christian located Julie in her room. Her phone was off or not working
 and she was getting ready for the big gig, so all seemed back on track.
 I remembered Geneva's Juliefest Horoscope said all would work out, and it seemed to be....
 I treated myself to another shot of Chinaco (medicinal purposes only) and Christian
 said she was tense, so she headed downstairs for a chocolate fix.

 Then, I felt an audible had to be called.

 The purpose of the high roller's room was to reward those who were able to give extra with
 an advance audience with Julie, but the reports I'd heard from earlier that afternoon said Julie
 spent a lot of time talking to everyone so the bloom was a bit off the "meet Julie early" rose.
 Not wanting the high rollers to feel shafted, I called HR #1 and asked if I could come up.
 When she opened the door, she introduced me to her husband and HR #2.

 Being Democrats, we only had the two high rollers, so I explained our situation and they were
 very gracious about the mixup. It would be the first of many for me before the night was over.

 We were approaching 6 PM - kickoff time, so Christian and the King of Israel started the walk to
 Carville's (two blocks) while I grabbed the temporary Bartmobile, Mrs. Bart and Julie and we looked
 for Julie's bodyguard, the third DC on-duty policeman. He wasn't in the lobby as we had instructed,
 so we jumped in the Bartmobile and the three of us headed towards the Fest unguarded.

  Sidebar:
 Most of this was written during the warmup band for Monday's Garbage concert.
 The rest of the week will have to be in Part 2 of this Trip report or I'll never finish.


 When we got there, the valets took the car and we saw two cops by the receiving table that Maria
 had set up for us.  They said Cop #3 was sick.  The weather was in the sixties and windy, so Julie
 wanted to go inside. There were a few others there early, so they went inside with Julie and we
 got ready to receive the masses of Juliefans.

 Within minutes, the sidewalk started getting crowded.

 We were still not ready to receive people, so we suggested they have a seat in the bar with Julie.
 This is where another hueueueuege mistake was made, because we knew we'd sold over 200 tickets,
 and even a low-IQ Catholic with ADD should know that even if it only took 30 seconds to check
 an ID and issue a badge, with over 200 party goers that's a minimum of 100 minutes.
 (Chris Farley: I am so stupid!)

 Inside, they were ready for the fest to begin.

..
 Our welcome banner with plates full
 of the best damn chocolate in the world,
 donated by our good friends at South's Finest Chocolate.
 

  Sidebar:
 Someone told me when they walked in the main room,
 the smell of The South's Finest Chocolate was overwhelming
 and it's effect on one's nose was spectacularly spectacular .
 They said there was chocolate all over the place, as in 600-800 pieces.
 

 A few minutes later, I looked up and saw smokin' Joe Conason!

..
 He looks different in person
 

 I said, "Hi, Joe, I'm Bart!"    He seemed very impressed as he stifled a yawn.
 We talked for a moment, (Christian says he is very charming) and Joe asked if I knew what
 David Brock looked like and I said that I did.  He asked if we could whisk (my word) Brock
 to the front of the line when he arrived, to avoid possible impomptu 10-on-1 debates out on the street.
 (this is what I remember, not what Joe actually said.)

 I spotted Ray C from Fort Smith, a bartcop.com  pillar, on the outer perimeter of the crowd,
 so I wrote "David B" (I think) on a badge and gave it to Ray and asked him to watch for Brock.
 After a few, I saw Brock walk up and get in line. I didn't see Ray, so I wrote a second
 badge and made my way outside, but when I got there, Brock was gone because Ray
 had expertly and quietly whisked Brock up to the front of the line - thanks Ray!

 With about 30 Julie fans on the sidewalk, I heard a sudden outburst of applause.
 I looked up and saw a tall, bald fellow soaking up the applause walking towards the Bart Door.
 It was the restaurant co-owner and our host, James Carville.

 He walked up to the receiving table and said, "Who's in charge, hea..?"
 So Christian and I said, "We are, and thanks for coming!"
 James said, "I have a check hea..., a donation for Julie, who do I make it out to?"
 and I said "bartcop.com."   And James said, "Bart ...what?"

 James musta been pulling my leg.
 I mean, everybody knows  bartcop.com  by now. (cough)

 So James hands me this super-sized check from a couple whose names I didn't recognize.
 I asked him who these people were and he looked at me, trying to decide how
 much to reveal, and he finally said, "They are good Democrats!"

 Then Carville saw Conason next to me and said, "Let's go talk," and I thought,
"How cool! I'm going to have a private talk with my new dawgs," but then Mrs. BartCop
 grabbed me and said, "You weren't invited anywhere, Einstein - he was talking to Mr. Conason."

 Within minutes, the sidewalk started getting even more crowded.
 We were still not ready, so we suggested the crowd have a seat in the bar with Julie.

..
              Julie with Michele from Bart Cook!

 I forgot to warn Julie about Michele - those West Coasters know how to party!
 I was afraid Michele might order an Open Grave for Julie, but it all worked out OK.

 Recovering my fumble, Onehandle (who you all know) stepped in to help Christian and me
 speeding up the registering process. Thanks to Onehandle for being a smooth operator.


 Smokin' Joe, James and Julie

 For the next while, everything was a blur as I met dozens and dozens and dozens of Julie fans.
 Some said, "Oh, ...you're Bart?"
 Hey, I did my best to lower expectations - for weeks.


  Zomar put a smile on James

 Pretty soon, the registering line was getting smaller, which was good because it started to rain.
 Next thing I remember, smokin' Joe tapped me on the shoulder and said,
 "Carville says it's time to start the show."  Maybe that's not what he said, but I'm doing
 my best to recontruct what Joe probably said.  I looked at a clock and saw it was almost 8:30.

 Koresh!

 The gig was half over and we were still trying to register people?
 Another rookie mistake by BartCop.


 So, I went into the now totally-crowded party room.
 The place was packed like a standing-room-only floor at a Garbage concert.
 There was this great rock show buzz in the air. So many people smiling and
 talking and laughing and shrieking when they talked to James, Joe or Julie.

 It was not quite a madhouse, but it was packed - wall-to-wall.
(Actually, it was all part of my Master Plan - to have 220 people play a game
 of Twister while we were setting up everything and waiting for the festivities to begin)
 Everybody had drinks. We had at least one doctor there, we had at least one surgeon,
 we had at least one former judge and we had Rude Rich in a hat!

 One lady told me her Dad was gonna flip when she told him she got to meet Ol' Bart!
 I'm not sure she was very impressed, but she said her Dad back in Arizona was gonna flip.

 One poor guy had the bad luck to buy me my first shot o' Chinaco. When the bartender asked what I
 wanted, I told him "Shot of Chinaco - and make it a double." I shouldn't have, but I was feeling kinda
 weird about everything - coming out, hosting, shaking hands - do you want to know something really strange?
 Some people asked for my autograph!  Didn't they know there were heroes in the room?
 So, whoever that was, sorry I got so tacky - I owe you a shot.

 I'll bet a dozen people bought me a shot of Chinaco that night. Good thing I respect The Miracle at Canaan
 too much to get enibriated on it. If I wanted to get my load on (that's what they call it on NYPD Blue) I'd use
 whiskey or vodka, cause God's Best Miracle doesn't go to my head.  Hell, I made sense all night :)   ha ha
 

 Not sure why, but my old friend Sabutai popped into my head.
 We lost him 18 months ago and he has missed out on so much.
 Carville, Conason & Steele - all under one roof with 200 good friends.
 Ol' Sabutai would've been real proud of this night.
 (Thanks for the fumble, Dude)
 

 The speeches

 I looked up and saw James coming towards me and, guessing he didn't remember me, I said,
"James, I'm Bart, one of the producers and we're ready whenever you are."

 So James, in the middle of the packed room, says in a very loud voice "Listen up!"
 I realized he was about to start his speech, so I quietly said to him,
 "We have a microphone and a camera and some lights over against that wall."
 As James walked towards the mic, I slithered into the safety of the back of the darkened room.
 I knew my loyal fans would hide me from the glare of the bright spotlight.

 (Remember, this is how I saw things. We won't know what really happened
  until the offocial videotape shows up - let's hope that's soon)

 Incredibly, James opened with,
 "Two bits, four bits, six bits a dollar,
  All for George W. Bush, stand up and holler."

 It was so funny - people started hissing.
 I think it was the first time I ever heard multiple, sustained hissing from a crowd,
 Everybody laughed, and then James got on a roll.
 I don't know if he's ever worked a friendlier crowd than the one he had that night.

 The more feedback he got, the stronger and more outraged he became.
 When James gets going, his speech can be very insend....incendy, ...inscendi... his speech can be very hot!

 He sounded like an intelligent version of Ol' BartCop, as he tore into The Washington Post,
 he tore into the crooked Supreme Court, he tore into the Unlected Fraud and the fact that
 his Daddy bought the stupid elder Bush boy a toy called the Presidency of the United States.

 The audience was soaking up every syllable, too - bet heavy on that.
 James kept whipping the frenzy hotter and hotter.
 He said "we got robbed" in Florida in 2000 because the right-wing thugs didn't like the results of the
 1996 election, so they just up and robbed us in 2000 and the crowd was screaming approval!
 Damn, I can't wait to see that tape.

 He also said a whole lot of really, really nice things about Julie.
 How she sacrificed everything for the sake of integrity, how she withstood the Starr assault
 of trying to take her son away from her, how the courage of Julie and Susan McDougal made
 all the difference in the world and how much he appreciated both of them.

 Much of it sounded like what you've been reading for years right here at  bartcop.com
 except that James Carville isn't some Internet flunkie wannabe with a goofy web page.
 He's responsible for electing the best president we've ever had.

 I don't remember how long he spoke - I know he could've gone on longer, but James is a busy man and
 he probably had places to go and things to do. As he finished his remarks, he introduced smoking Joe Conason
 by revealing that Joe has been ostracized from many in the journalistic community for speaking out

 Hey, Joe, if the whores of the American press shun you for telling the truth, I say
 wear that as a badge of honor. If they can't handle the truth, I say "fuck 'em."

  Sidebar:
 Nobody knew (if I didn't, how could they?) that James was going to speak.
 After the plan was established (Carville, Conason & Steele) James basically
 just grabbed the mic and began without any warmup or into of any kind.

 But smokin' Joe had the benefit of a "warm up" act, and now this crowd was 

..
  James hands the mic to Joe

 By the time James said, "Ladies and gentlemen, my good friend Joe Conason," the crowd was
 stomping their feet and chanting, "Joe!, Joe!, Joe!, Joe!, Joe!, Joe!, Joe!, Joe!"
 It was like a mini-convention!

 Eventually the roar subsided and Joe was able to be heard. He mentioned that'd he'd only met
 Julie once before, [at her condemned (my words) house about six weeks ago when he & Gene
 Lyons went there to film Julie's part in the soon-to-be-released The Hunting of the President
 documentary] but he's known of her tremendous bravery and integrity for years (mega hoots
 from the crowd) and that he was glad to be here to introduce her tonight..

 Joe also mentioned the tremendous financial hit Julie sustained when she lost her beautiful home
 and had to move into what Joe said polite Southerners call "reduced circumstances."

 I didn't find out until later, but I'm told when Joe said those words,
 James made his way to Julie and put his arm around her.

..

 What does this mean?
 Logic tells us that James didn't know of Julie's "reduced circumstances" until that night.
 I mean, besides  bartcop.com  has anyone told the story of her incredible sacrifice?

 America doesn't know Julie's story because America doesn't read  bartcop.com
 If I got the hits Matt Drudge gets, we might've had to rent the MCI Center for three nights
 to accomodate all the well-wishers that surely would surface once they knew, right?
 Poor Julie - stuck with the 37,000th most popular site on the world wide web.

 So if YOU get a chance to tell someone about Julie and what YOUR government did to her,
 when they knew for a FACT that she was telling the truth, TAKE that chance, would you?

 Joe continued to speak, thanking David Brock for coming. Some of you might think Brock
 was an odd choice to be at this party because arguably, if not for Brock, Julie would still
 be unfamous and living in her home with money in the bank.  So think about this:
 1.  There's no way Brock could've known his actions would, years down the road, have a
      deleterious (I looked it up) affect on Julie's life
 2.  Joe Conason wrote that everything Brock has told him since they've become friends
      turned out to be true, and Joe's opinion holds a lot of weight with Julie and me
 3.  For me, the biggest reason to welcome Brock was that he left the side that was paying him
      a million dollars per book to come to our side and be slandered with the hateful lies
      of the people he used to run with. That's the opposite of a whore.

 Joe also brought the crowd down to Earth by reminding them why we were here
 - to help someone who was almost destroyed by the government we pledge allegiance to.
 (My words - you can tell, because a preposition isn't something Joe would end a sentence with)
 

 Then he introduced her -Julie Hiatt Steele!

I never intended for this to be a serial but it's just too big for one issue.
Tune in tomoro,

same Bart time,
same Bart channel.

Part Two is awesome.



 Read the  Previous Issue

 It had  everything.

 Copyright © 2002, bartcop.com
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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