Washington’s Tell-All Tradition
The latest crop of tell-all books focuses not on sex (nor on drugs and rock 'n roll, for that matter), but on politics. Bill Clinton's long-awaited memoir is scheduled to hit stores at the end of June (and, yes, we realize that some readers will buy in on the hope that it also includes at least one of the other tell-all topics). Richard Clarke, ex-Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, and now former Ambassador Joseph Wilson have all published books critical of the G.W.Bush administration. But this is nothing new…Clinton, Nixon, Carter, and even Ronald Reagan got trashed in print by their top advisors. Back in 1940, FDR was probably the first victim, and even Eisenhower wasn’t immune. He was, though, able to quash a book critical of his presidency before it went to press. In fact, it was knowing what happened to Ike that caused JFK to have his staff sign an agreement NOT to write memoirs about anything they saw happen in the White House.
Historian Michael Beschloss discusses White House memoirs at MSNBC
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Much Ado About Publishing
WILT NEVER WILTED
So, you wanna write a tell-all book?Don't bother.
Nobody could possibly top the genre's most extreme example and be believed.
In A View From Above, his 1991 bestseller chronicling his performance both on and off the court, the late basketball great Wilt Chamberlain told us he'd had sex with 20,000 women.
Do you remember asking? Me neither.
Anyway….20,000 women?
You'd think that even after only 100, Chamberlain would've lost count, and would've needed to document these encounters. Wilt could've benefited immensely from today's technology.
The scene: Wilt's front door, noon on a Sunday. Wilt waves good-bye as his lady friend leaves after a night of wild passion. Not without its challenges, of course, since the guy was around seven feet tall. Wilt closes the door quickly and mumbles to himself as he dashes for his computer before he forgets.
"That's 17,680... remember 17,680…Her name is Diane...Diane... Diane."
He makes it to the computer and enters the data. He taps the keyboard a few times and cross-references leap out at him.
"Hey, that's the 500th Diane!" he marvels to himself.
Does confetti drop from the ceiling? Does she win a brand new car? A trip to Disney World?
Think about it. When you're dealing with a number like 20,000, some patterns are going to emerge. Like 11,395 brunettes, or 4,782 left-handed women, or perhaps 566 sets of twins. Maybe even no Kathryns, Marlas, or Joans. Or no one over 30, or no women born in Newark.
Even after only 10,000, you'd think that he probably accidentally slept with a distant cousin.
Some men, after a couple of dozen encounters, or even less, manage to inadvertently father a child or two. After 20,000 different women, is it possible that Wilt fathered a small town? Is there a basketball team out there comprised entirely of Wilt's offspring?
Let's ignore all moral judgments here -- that's another matter entirely.
Let's continue in a practical, and even romantic, vein. How can there actually be romance with 20,000 women? How can anything be special with any one person after 20,000 of them? Don't they all sort of run together? Or did Wilt fondly remember 8,356 "really special nights?"
Okay, so these days having many lovers in your past is not unusual, but Wilt gave a whole new meaning to the word many. At what point, I wonder, did he think that perhaps he was being a bit excessive? Does anyone need 20,000 different partners? What was driving him? Besides the obvious.
Given the times we live in, people have no doubt wondered how Wilt escaped disease after mingling with 20,000 different bodies. He was either the luckiest man on Earth, or he bought condoms by the truckload. With that kind of investment, he should've been endorsing them. Though I don't think you'd actually want to name a condom “Wilt.”
Why all this interest in Wilt and his numbers anyway? Why do people still talk about it?
Because he’s famous.
If he’d just been the very tall fellow who worked in the office down the hall, there would’ve been no autobiography to read, and no one would know, outside of the obvious people, that he’d slept with 20,000 women. But, he probably would’ve had to find another way to brag about it.
Didn’t Wilt know that a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, even in a tell-all book?
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Nina L. Diamond is a journalist, essayist, and the author of Voices of Truth: Conversations with Scientists, Thinkers & Healers. Her work has appeared in numerous publications, including Omni, The Los Angeles Times Magazine, The Chicago Tribune, and The Miami Herald.
Ms. Diamond was a writer and performer on Pandemonium, the National Public Radio (NPR) satirical humor program, for its entire run in Miami and select markets nationwide from 1984-1998. As an editor, she works frequently with other authors and journalists on both fiction and non-fiction.
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Logo image courtesy of George Glazer Gallery, NYC georgeglazer.com