Books in Brief
Taking Heat: The President, The Press, and My Years in the White House by Ari Fleischer (William Morrow, 381 pp., $26.95) Ari Fleischer was President Bush's press secretary from 2001 to 2003. The press didn't like him much and it's easy to see why. He didn't blab in ways that embarrassed his boss and he had reporters pegged. This book tells you more about Fleischer and the skillful manner in which he did his job than you need to know, and not enough about Bush. But that is more than offset by Fleischer's terrific analysis of the White House press corps in particular and national reporters in general. "I've concluded that when it comes to policy-related stories, particularly stories involving social issues, Democrats have an easier time with the Washington press corps than Republicans," Fleischer says. "When it comes to scandals, the press are equally tough on everyone."
He notes the practice of TV reporters ending their pieces with "a gloomy, negative, conflict-driven final sentence." And he has smart things to say about ideological labeling. Reporters comply with the desire of liberals not to be called "liberals." There are lots of "social conservatives," but no "social liberals."
And while "right-wingers" abound, there are no "left-wingers." Those opposing curbs on abortion are supporters of "abortion rights." But those opposing curbs on gun ownership are never called supporters of "gun rights." Fleischer does spot one strength of the president that others missed. That's his ability to shut out the buzz in Washington or, as Fleischer puts it, "ignore the day-to-day criticisms of the media." Understanding the press as he does, Fleischer served the president honorably and well.
--Fred Barnes
Confessions of a Slacker Wife by Muffy Mead-Ferro (Da Capo, 214 pp., $12.95) In Confessions of a Slacker Wife, Muffy Mead-Ferro picks up where she left off in her bestselling Confessions of a Slacker Mom. It's impossible, she argues, for a woman to make everything perfect at home without having a wife of her own to help out. They'd have a lot more fun if they cut themselves some slack. So why bother learning to prepare gourmet hors d'oeuvres for every occasion when everyone loves potato chips and onion dip? Is company actually going to be offended by a little dirt on the light switches? Is it necessary to figure out how to fold dinner napkins into anything more complicated than a rectangle? "Busy and productive are two different things," Mead-Ferro writes.
She also makes amusing confessions about her own housekeeping habits. For one thing, she sometimes takes her family's clothes out of the hamper, folds them, and then puts them back in their dresser drawers. She's relieved herself of some of the housework by convincing her children that chores like unloading the dishwasher are fun new games. And she doesn't clean their rooms, prepare every meal for them, or solve all their problems.
Mead-Ferro blames much of the pressure women feel to be the best at everything on the products and advertising that are targeted at them. She dismisses women's magazines that discuss dessert, weight loss, eyeliner, dish detergent, room freshener, trash bags, the kind of salad celebrities eat at their country homes, and the like. She has particular disdain for anything that hints at the ability to stop the aging process. "The most insidious thing about advertising campaigns for so many beauty products is that they put the unscientific idea into your head that unfortunate occurrences such as wrinkled skin are actually a choice. That aging is--at least for us women--optional."
Overall, Confessions of a Slacker Wife is witty and well written and serves as the perfect companion to the dozens of volumes dedicated to achieving domestic perfection.
- Rachel DiCarlo