171: Election

Ira Glass

As we head into the final days of this presidential race, consider this story. Matt Futterman was running for student government in Mamaroneck High School in New York in 1985. And he ran a campaign that changed electoral politics in the school, at least for a while. Here's the way the race lined up.

Ira Glass

And it was not looking good for Matt with those key swing voters, the tough-to-please freshmen. And it came to the final days before the election, just as we are now, with this presidential race. And Matt turned to his best friend's brother, Bennett, for advice. And Bennett came up with this campaign slogan that turned the race around. Here's Bennett.

Ira Glass

Then Bennett had another idea. They could make a TV commercial. That's right, a TV commercial. Nobody had ever done a political TV ad in a high school race, at their school anyway. The school had TVs in every room. The school's morning announcements were done on these television monitors. They could play their ad during the morning announcements.

Ira Glass

One time was enough, though. Come election day, Matt easily swept into office. And the next year, because of Matt's commercial, the age of televised politics hit Mamaroneck High full-force. Nearly all the candidates had TV ads.

And interestingly, nearly all of them were dreadfully dull. They went on TV, and they droned on about their qualifications and what they wanted to do for the school. It's as if they missed what it was that made Matt's ad so effective. Here's Bennett.

Ira Glass

Which brings us to the current election. While it's true that we want candidates with whom we agree, more or less, on at least some of the so-called issues, I think we also want, or I want anyway-- and I don't think I'm alone in this-- some moment of spontaneity, of human joy, some "I'll give you wood" moment. It would make me feel like I could trust these guys.

The candidates know this, too. At this point in the evolution of focus-grouped, to poll-driven politics, they have absolutely learned that what we want is some moment that is not focus-grouped and poll-driven. So they go onto David Letterman. They go onto Jay Leno. They tell their little jokes. They try to charm, all to try to get outside the sound bites.

Outside the sound bites. Today on our program, driven by the same desperate impulse, we also try to escape the world of the sound bite. We have three different stories about parts of this selection that do not fit into the scripted, pre-planned soundbites that we'll be hearing from the candidates over the next few days.

Act One, Fools Rush In, where sound bites fear to tread. Jack Hitt reports on a multimillionaire who helped swing this winter's Michigan primary by trashing mainstream pols in a very un-focus-grouped way, and what he has planned for these next few days before the general election. Act Two, Take Out Your Number Two Pencil, in which we look at the issue behind the issue behind a sound bite. And if that's confusing, well, just stay with me. Act Three, Nepotism a Beginner's Guide, and a defense. Adam Davidson discovers that he has the same blue blood ancestors as George W. Bush and wonders where his family went wrong, and where the Bushes went right, and why it takes 220 years to get to the point where you get to say the sound bite.

From WBEZ Chicago and Public Radio International, it's This American Life. I'm Ira Glass. And remember, for the next hour, I will fight for you. So stay with me.

Ira Glass

Act One: Fools Rush In. So in these days when we yearn for more of our politicians to shoot from the hip a little more than they do, Jack Hitt found somebody who fit the bill, a former gubernatorial candidate in Michigan. Jack tells the story.

Jack Hitt

Last February, I was sitting in the office of the multimillionaire Michigan trial lawyer Geoffrey Fieger. You'll remember he was Jack Kevorkian's lawyer. And he was also the lawyer who once walked into court carrying a big picture of the prosecutor, his opponent, with a clown nose pinned on. I was trying to figure out Fieger wins hundreds of millions of dollars while using tactics most people find outrageous, even insane. But I could barely get in a question, because it was just a few days away from the Michigan Republican primary, and Fieger was incensed George W. Bush might win.

Remember how it was last winter. Bush had just barely defeated John McCain in the South Carolina primary, and Michigan's governor, John Engler, had declared his state to be Bush's, quote, "firewall" against McCain. On that cold afternoon, Fieger's phone rang every two minutes. It was a couple of his pals, who were encouraging Fieger to make some negative ads attacking Bush in order to humiliate Governor Engler. Less than 24 hours later, Michigan voters began hearing Fieger's ad.

Jack Hitt

The ad is a whole minute of in-your-face vitriol, right up to the sign-off.

Jack Hitt

Here's the catch: it worked. At least, George Bush thought it did. The day he lost Michigan, he was blaming Fieger, by name, for interfering in the Republican primary. Months later, with Michigan heading towards another incredibly close presidential contest, Fieger and his buddies decided to do it all over again, just one week before election day.

I hopped a plane and met with Fieger's pals, the guys who helped write these ads, Eric Humphrey, a radio producer, and Leon Weiss, a lawyer. I wanted to know, were they a PAC, a special interest group? What were they?

Jack Hitt

And they are coffee outside the cup. In this day of focus groups and marketing demographics and niches like suburban males, 18 to 24 years old, their idea of a target audience sounds totally antique.

Jack Hitt

They only do radio ads, in part because they're so effective in a state obsessed with cars and driving, and also because it's cheaper than one might think to get into the political game. On these ads, they might spend $20,000.

Jack Hitt

By late afternoon, we had adjourned to the offices of WJR Radio in Detroit to work further on the scripts, when there was a commotion. Feiger swept into the studio like a conquering hero, dressed in an expensive blue pinstripe suit and muted red tie. He looked like Bush or Gore during the first debate, except for his hair, shaggy '70s retro. He was obviously still high from the euphoria one must experience from asking a jury for $150 million dollars and knowing you might get it.

Once Fieger took his seat in front of the studio microphone, Eric and Leon became noticeably more subdued, a typical moment. Eric had come up with a new line for Fieger.

Jack Hitt

Ah, the creative process. So Feiger took his pen back.

Jack Hitt

I thought by coming to WJR, what I would witness was the contemporary making of a Willie Horton ad, the most famous attack ad in contemporary politics, not officially sanctioned by either party, and so, able to put out a distorted, racist message about Michael Dukakis in 1988. But all day long, I was amazed to witness an unusual integrity on display. Fieger and his pals wanted to ridicule Bush viciously, but they were sort of prissy about it, surprisingly concerned that everything in the ad be true. When Leon wanted a line saying "Texas leads the country in water pollution," Eric struck it, arguing that Texas was only 49th. Again, here's Fieger.

Jack Hitt

There was a kind of internal logic even to the boundaries of their own bad taste. A Monica Lewinsky ad? No. A bunch of bad Jewish jokes about how Lieberman would save the country money by buying wholesale? Nixed. At one point, Geoffrey started scribbling madly on a yellow legal pad and then told everyone to hush. He said he'd had a divine inspiration and wanted to try out a new ad concept.

Jack Hitt

What was amazing about the whole experience was how much fun they were all having. It's hard to capture the madness and pleasure that filled the room. Obviously, it was mean-spirited, but it's a pleasure you almost never see in our formal public politics.

Jack Hitt

Isn't this the kind of unscripted spirit most of us say is missing from our mainstream politicians? While it's easy to do this from the sidelines, the question is, can you have this much fun if you're the candidate and then go on to win? In fact, Fieger ran for governor in 1998 and lost. He lost, in large part, because his opponent reminded voters that Fieger regularly said shocking things, like the time he referred to Jesus as, quote, "just some goofball that got nailed to the cross."

If you ask Fieger about it, he'll tell you it's taken out of context. But I've read the full quote. And it's pretty bad. He says believing in Jesus is just as silly as Elvis mania. People had a reason to be insulted.

And that's the problem with shoot-from-the-hip politics. And yet, maybe the whole experience made him a little more careful. Over the course of two hours, he calls every soul who passes the glass window into the studio.

Jack Hitt

Every time, it cracks everybody up. And every time, Leon and Eric try to talk him out of it.

Jack Hitt

And this is the one time I watch them oppose Fieger on a big issue and actually convince him. After two and a half hours, they finish two 60-second ads complete with sound effects and music. "We're like the Beatles," Fieger says. Here's one of the ads.

Jack Hitt

His ads sound highly produced and planned out, yet the whole process was so improvisational. And Fieger himself is completely unreflective, to the point that when I kept asking him to talk about the strategy of the ad, he got a little mad at me.

Jack Hitt

The political ads that Fieger makes are the ones we voters allegedly find the most horrifying, unaccountable attacks not affiliated with any candidate saying the worst possible things. And I wondered if the populist part of Fieger might think there's something wrong with the idea that any rich guy can get on the air and take potshots at any politician he wants. But I was wrong.

Fieger thinks there should be more of these ads, that everyone should get in on the game. And when he told me this, I realized that what Fieger's up to isn't part of the new wave of negative advertising, but actually is connected to something very old-fashioned in American politics, the pure public glee of calling the other side names.

This is the way it always was. In 1884, the fact that Grover Cleveland had had a child out of wedlock had Republicans marching down the street, delightedly singing, "Ma, Ma, where's my pa?" And Democrats would shout back, "Gone to the White House, ha, ha, ha."

Jack Hitt

Do you think they're having fun over at the Gore campaign tonight?

Jack Hitt

How many people have you heard, just today, say, "I can't wait until this damn election is over"? Everybody hates it. There is no joy in our politics, no pleasure. No one's laughing, except, it seems, Geoffrey Fieger, who's having a ball, and now signs all of his ads with his trademark bellowing laugh.

Ira Glass

Jack Hitt lives in Connecticut. Coming up, how many grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents do you have to have with the middle names Herbert and Walker for you to become president yourself? You ain't seen nothing yet. In a minute, from Public Radio International, when our program continues.

Ira Glass

It's This American Life. I'm Ira Glass. Today on our program, Outside the Sound Bites, in which we try to avoid, sidestep, or look beneath the presidential candidates' talking points in these final days before the election. We've arrived at Act Two of our show, Take Out Your Number Two Pencil.

One thing that is striking about this presidential race is that the two big issues, that the two big candidates debate most, are two things that most of us do not really understand at all, prescription drug policy and school accountability. And so the candidates throw their little catchwords back and forth. And how are we supposed to evaluate that? It is as if we're supposed to choose between them based on their stances on Fermat's Last Theorem. So our producer, Alex Blumberg, looked behind what they have to say about education, and found that the reality is dismayingly different from their little speeches.

Alex Blumberg

There are differences, fairly big ones, between the Bush and Gore education plans. Gore wants more money for early childhood education and teacher training. Bush wants vouchers for families in failing schools. But at the heart of both their education plans is the idea that kids should be tested and tested often, to be sure they're being taught well.

Alex Blumberg

In the first presidential debate, the only argument about tests was who had more of them, and whose were tougher on kids and teachers.

Alex Blumberg

North Carolina is one of a handful of states in the country that's already adopted an education plan similar to what both candidates are talking about. It's called the ABC program, and it's based on the same simple premise both candidates propose. We hold schools accountable for teaching our kids. The schools that do well, we reward. The ones that don't, we demand changes. And the way we tell, a standardized test.

I talked to teachers from five schools across the state. And what they said is the reality isn't as simple as the campaign rhetoric makes it seem, and that North Carolina's accountability program has consequences, both good and bad, that interestingly, neither candidate seems to mention.

Alex Blumberg

Kids in North Carolina take a lot of tests. In some schools, as many as 30 days out of the year are given over to tests. And the most important tests of all, the tests everyone talks about, the tests from which all other tests originate, are called the EOGs, or End-of-Grade tests. Every kid from third grade to eighth grade takes them.

Nearly all the teachers I talked to said that a lot has improved since North Carolina started its educational reforms in 1996. There's a new curriculum, which the teachers like. Teacher salaries have increased. And more resources are going to early childhood programs. But when talking about the EOGs, a lot of the teachers use words like frenzy, mania, or in some cases monster.

That's because a lot is riding on the EOGs. School scores are published in local papers and on the internet. They show up in real estate listings. Principals of chronically low-performing schools can be fired. Teachers at schools that score well on the tests or show marked improvement receive bonuses that go as high as $1,500 per teacher.

But teachers have enough questions about the testing that some of them have turned down the money when it's offered. And in North Carolina's fifth year of reform, the issues have heated up enough that many educators get edgy talking about it publicly. One state official hung up on me in the middle of a conversation. At a school in Hallsboro, the principal, Lynn Spaulding wouldn't let me talk to any of his teachers without him being present. And then there's Teresa Glenn.

Alex Blumberg

On May 28 of this year, Teresa Glenn posted an impassioned email message to a North Carolina educational list server, hosted by the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction. In nine paragraphs, she outlined her various concerns with the EOGs. In the last one, she summarized.

Alex Blumberg

The part of the email that got her in trouble was the part where she discussed the specific content of two questions on last year's reading EOG. She pointed out that the two questions required students to know information that wasn't in the reading passage they were supposedly being tested on. Not long after that email, her principal called her into his office and told her the state was considering revoking her teaching certificate.

Alex Blumberg

They eventually told Teresa that she'd violated an agreement she'd signed as part of the testing program that forbade her from paraphrasing any of the questions on the test in public. Teresa says the only reason she was allowed to keep your job, and got away with just a suspension, was that one of the local school board members present at her hearing owed her a favor. She says the big problem with the tests is how much time and resources have been diverted to them.

Some teachers in her school, she says, spend 50% to 75% of their classroom time on test prep. A huge chunk of the school's book budget has gone to buying four different test prep books for each student. She says no wonder administrators are so touchy.

Alex Blumberg

When I asked the North Carolina State Board of Education for a school where their plan was working, they sent me to Allenbrook Elementary in Charlotte. It's in a poor neighborhood and has a history of poor performance on the tests. Four years ago, the state assistance team came to Allenbrook to help it improve, the kind of thing Al Gore would like to see adopted everywhere.

Alex Blumberg

Actually, they don't shut the school down. But there was a team of specialists. And 70% of the staff either quit or was transferred. And the principal was removed. Cathy Hammond was his replacement. And under her leadership, the school has made remarkable gains on the test scores. And she readily credits the accountability program.

Alex Blumberg

Here's what they found when they tried to fix the school. First, the problem wasn't the teachers' ability. The state team evaluated all the teachers, and only one was rated below competent. The problem was there simply weren't enough of them, especially for the task of bringing Allenbrook's student population up to grade level. For whatever sociological reasons, kids from poor neighborhoods tend to do worse in school and worse on standardized tests. You can bring them up to speed, but you need extra teachers to do it.

Alex Blumberg

Which raises the question, did the state need a test to fix Allenbrook School? Principal Hammond says what actually improved things was extra money, which she used to hire more reading teachers and a full-time social worker and a school psychologist. Why bother with the test? Why not just supply that?

Alex Blumberg

This is Phil Kirk, Chairman of the North Carolina State Board of Education, and one of the two guys in charge of the ABC Program.

Alex Blumberg

Phil Kirk says that he agrees with Principal Hammond, that it's harder to teach kids from poor backgrounds. You need more resources, more staff. He says he's gotten those things for poor schools, and he's trying to get even more. But the political reality is it's easier to get money from a state legislature if you can show them results.

Alex Blumberg

A lot of teachers complain that politicians and people from the state use the language of business when talking about education. And many people are suspicious of the fact that Kirk is head of both the State Board of Education and the State Chamber of Commerce, in other words, the main education lobby and the main business lobby. But it's entirely possible that the same business vocabulary that raises suspicions among teachers is the very thing that makes him successful at getting money out of the legislature.

He puts the concerns of education in language the legislature understands. Still, he can be pretty abrasive. He describes teachers who don't like the tests this way.

Alex Blumberg

Cathy Rouse's youngest son, Carlton, was in third grade last year at Hallsboro-Artesia Elementary School. He got A's and B's. But he didn't pass his EOGs at the end of the year. And then he failed his two allowed retests, which meant he had to repeat third grade.

Alex Blumberg

Cathy protested and put her case before the county board, and finally had Carlton promoted. He's in fourth grade this year. Between 1991 and 1997, 66 studies were done on holding kids back. 65 of them showed it to be either ineffectual or damaging in the long run. And a lot of times, it's just not necessary. Even in schools that start aggressive remediation in kindergarten, it's common not to see higher test scores until seventh or eighth grade. Third grade is just too early to tell if things are working. To Cathy Rouse, this is just common sense.

Alex Blumberg

Even among teachers who think the tests have made education better in North Carolina, like math teacher [? Mary Ann ?] Davis, this is a big worry. Not everyone will pass the tests. In the worst schools, over half the kids fail. Even in the very best, it's 10%. What happens to those kids?

Alex Blumberg

This gets us to the crux of what Governor Bush might call "a difference in philosophy," the philosophy of teaching. How much should you demand results from students, on the one hand, versus how much you should nurture them on the other. Phil Kirk and the state legislature think things went too far towards nurture, and that it's time to go back the other way.

Alex Blumberg

At a school assembly in the Jefferson Elementary School gymnasium, I saw this philosophical divide for the gulf it truly is. Jefferson Elementary is set in a Winston-Salem suburb, filled with mature oaks and sprawling split-levels. Inside the school's carpeted classrooms, kids sit around work tables, not at desks, and quietly read or write in journals. Their art hangs from the walls, right above the height-appropriate bookshelves, next to the hamster cages and various aquaria.

Jefferson Elementary does very well on the EOGs, and today's assembly is because people from the state are here to congratulate them for it. Last year, for the first time, over 90% percent of Jefferson students scored above average on the EOGs, making it what the state calls "a school of excellence." Dr. Brad Sneeden, one of the state administrators, explains what this means.

Alex Blumberg

Keep in mind, the group of leaders being addressed here is an auditorium full of schoolchildren with missing teeth and those gym shoes that light up. They're sitting cross-legged on the floor. And the shy ones are leaning against their teachers. Whatever message is reaching them from all this, it's probably not the one the speakers are intending. Witness this failed call-and-response attempt from Dr. Martin, the second presenter.

Alex Blumberg

Then Dr. Moser, Jefferson's principal, took the stage. He's an easy guy to love. He's sweet and soft-spoken and, if anything, a little embarrassed about this assembly. He readily admits that a large part of the reason his students score so well on the EOGs is simply that they come from well-off families. And when he addresses the students, he doesn't mention responsibility or leadership. It's all nurturing.

Alex Blumberg

What's obvious is that each philosophy comes with its own language, the language of leadership versus the language of lunch. And each language emphasizes different things. In the teacher's lounge after the assembly, I'm swamped by teachers who are angry about the testing and how heavily it's being emphasized and how high the stakes are now. If the two competing impulses in American education are accountability on the one hand versus nurturing on the other, the consensus of these teachers and all the teachers I talked to across the state, is that obviously, you need both.

And even if the pendulum has swung too far in the direction of nurturing in the past, what George Bush and Al Gore are both proposing is to push it far in the other direction. What's needed is balance, the teachers said. But whichever man wins, that's probably not what we're going to see.

Ira Glass

Alex Blumberg.

Ira Glass

Act Three. So before we end our little election special, let's have a quick word about nepotism. In this country, where supposedly anybody can grow up to be president, we have one candidate who was raised in Washington, DC, son of a US senator, the other guy son of a president. And it's confusing to some of us, especially our contributor, Adam Davidson, who discovered recently that he and George Bush share six, that's right, six common ancestors, all of whom lived in 17th century England. Adam is wondering, how did this happen?

Adam Davidson

Where did my side of the dynasty go wrong? And what did his side do so right? Why did he get the presidential nomination handed to him, and I have to borrow money from my girlfriend to pay the rent?

I think it's probably true that George W. Bush is not all that bright. But he knows something, his whole family knows something. They know power. And they know how to get more and more power every generation.

Adam Davidson

Presidential genealogist Gary Boyd Roberts.

Adam Davidson

This is Gary Boyd Roberts's favorite game. He loves linking people. For him, there are no distant cousins. Mention any New England name, and he'll link them right up to queens and kings, to the Mayflower, to you, to me, to himself.

He's a great genealogist. And he told me we could find out exactly where the Bushes went right and where my family went wrong.

It all goes back to 1783, when my folks had a better piece of land than George's. That's where things started going south. It seems that the Bushes were forced to move out of town that year to get better farmland, while my family stayed put.

Adam Davidson

So let me recap this for you. The Bushes were our poor cousins. They weren't doing that well, so they decided to go somewhere else.

The move started a tradition. Each successive generation went to wherever the next big thing was, first to Vermont for a better farm, then to Ohio for steel, Wall Street for finance, and eventually, Texas for oil. And it only took a little bit of wealth to make everything a lot easier.

Adam Davidson

Each generation, starting in the 1800s, would make the family a little richer, a little more blue blood, and then would use their money and friends to create a network of political allies. And only once that network was in place do they run for office. All the Bushes do this.

Prescott Bush got richer than his dad on Wall Street, then made friends, then went to the Senate. George Herbert Walker Bush got even richer in Texas, then made even more friends, then became president. George W. hopes he'll do the exact same thing.

All the while, my family stayed. And each generation, the family land got smaller. Their only friends were other farmers. So when things finally got bad enough that they had to leave, about 100 years ago, the only place to go was a blue collar job in the city. By then, our family went from being the Bushes' superiors to being nothing but Swamp Yankee trash, while our poor Bush cousins stopped having to work so hard.

Adam Davidson

This is Adam Bellow. He's writing a book about nepotism. His father is Saul Bellow, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Adam Davidson

Not that Adam Bellow thinks there's anything wrong with that. Nepotism is not good. It's not bad. It's how the world works. Only in America does anyone get upset about this, anyway. Because ever since Benjamin Franklin filled his Poor Richard's Almanac with advice on how to be prosperous, there's been this idea that anyone can make it here with pluck and hard work.

Adam Davidson

Adam Bellow has been studying nepotism for years. And he hasn't found any level of society, anywhere in the world, that doesn't use it. So how do you feel good about yourself when you're sitting there in that nice office that you didn't really earn? Well for one thing, says Adam Bellow, you can have some humility about how you got the job. And you can work your ass off. You can work so hard that you earn the privilege that you lucked into.

Take the two George Bushes. Elizabeth Mitchell, who wrote W: the Revenge of the Bush Dynasty, told me that they both say they are self-made men. And they're both obviously fooling themselves. Their families gave them tremendous head starts.

When George Herbert Walker Bush, the father, the former president, moved to Odessa, Texas, and worked the lowest jobs at an oil company, painting rigs and handling supplies, the company he worked for was Dresser Industries. It was owned by his father's best friend and Yale roommate, Neil Mallon. In fact, Senator Prescott Bush gave the company to Mallon to run.

George Senior worked hard, and he ultimately started his own business. He was actually kind of brilliant. He was a pioneer in offshore drilling. When he became rich, richer than his dad, he earned it.

Now take his son. When George W. drove to Midland, Texas, right after graduating from Yale, he went straight to his father's best friend, his father's former campaign manager, Jimmy Allison, who set him up in a low-level oil industry job. That went nowhere. Then he ran for Congress, lost, and then started a huge oil company himself.

He didn't start at the bottom. He just called his uncle, Jonathan Bush, who quickly raised the money to create Arbusto. The primary funder was Philip Uzielli, James Baker's best friend and college roommate, a man who said he knew he probably wouldn't make any money, but felt loyal to W's dad. Sure enough, Arbusto went belly-up.

George W. went on to get family friends to buy him two other oil companies that also went bankrupt. He didn't have any money, no successes to be proud of. And that is when his dad's pal, Bill DeWitt, invited him to become a co-owner and the CEO of the Texas Rangers. George W. had to borrow money to buy in, because he was broke.

People say he did do a good job with the Rangers. He got taxpayers to give $135 million for a new stadium. And he finally made himself and his dad's friends some money.

In tracing the Bush family tree, I found that every single generation since 1780 has found new ways to make money and gain power. They were visionaries. They figured out what the next big thing would be, and then they took risks and reaped the rewards. And my family didn't.

Bush's family has been working towards this Tuesday's election carefully and steadily for the last 220 years, while we Swamp Yankees have been watching it on TV. And at some level, it doesn't seem unfair. The only thing that bothers me is that they're sending in George W. to take the big prize.

He hasn't been a visionary or a risk-taker. If he'd followed the family tradition, he'd have gone to Silicon Valley and started a dot com. Instead, he entered the west Texas oil business when it was on its way out, and was bailed out repeatedly by family and friends. And he could be our next president. Or we'll get the other guy, the son of the senator from Tennessee.

Ira Glass

Adam Davidson lives in Los Angeles.

Ira Glass

Well, our program was produced today by Alex Blumberg and myself, with Blue Chevigny and Julie Snyder, contributing editors Paul Tough, Jack Hitt, Margy Rochlin, Alix Spiegel, Nancy Updike, and consigliere Sarah Vowell. Elizabeth Meister runs our website. Production help from Todd Bachmann, [? Eric Haverston, ?] and the amazing Hillary Frank. Musical help from Mr. John Connors, also Marika Partridge and Terry Hecker.

[ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS]

This American Life is distributed by Public Radio International.

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WBEZ management by Torey Malatia, who believes above all in sharing.

Ira Glass

I'm Ira Glass. Don't forget to vote. God bless you, and God bless America.

Announcer

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