An anecdote about the “piggy” reporter
On more than one occasion, when writing about a good-looking male celebrity, she lasciviously confessed how much she would like to “do” him.
The “quiet, quiet, piggy” reporter?
I know her.
Catherine Lucey was a Philadelphia Daily News reporter during the time I was there. And I can share a story you won’t see anywhere,
She stayed at the paper about a dozen years; I was serving a life sentence.
Last week, aboard Air Force One, President Donald J. Trump was being his usual thin-skinned jackass self when he responded to a perfectly legitimate question about the Epstein files from Lucey. “Quiet, quiet, piggy,” said the man so porcine he probably has a Jimmy Dean tramp stamp.
The President snarled at Lucey, and Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt later tried to put lipstick on a pig, if you will forgive the cliche, with this quote:
“The president being frank and open and honest to your faces, rather than hiding behind your backs, is, frankly, a lot more respectful than what you saw in the last administration.”
WTF?
This was “frank and open”?
She also said Trump “calls out fake news when he sees it and gets frustrated with reporters who spread false information.”
Lucey was not spreading false information. She was asking a perfectly legitimate question.
Well, anyway. . .
The anecdote I am about to share does not justify, in any way, Trump’s remarks because he is not even aware of it.
Lucey was a reporter who covered local news and politics, and was good enough to be skyhooked out of the tabloid that punched above its weight by the Associated Press. She also worked for the Wall Street Journal and now Bloomberg.
She was an occasional panelist on one of the Sunday talk shows. I can’t remember which one because I watch so many.
But let’s go back to the Daily News, where she occasionally filled in writing the national gossip column (I wrote the local gossip column) when Howard Gensler was on vacation.
And she did with an edge, which is something all of the People Paper staffers aimed for.
But one thing: On more than one occasion, when writing about a good-looking male celebrity, she lasciviously confessed how much she would like to “do” him.
And “do” was a euphemism for “fuck.”
Now, on one hand, it was good for a laugh, knowing who Lucey would like to “do,” and to be so open about it.
But, on the other hand, it exposed a double standard.
Even if I were smoking a doobie I could not imagine how a male journalist could ever fantasize in print about sexual congress with a woman he was writing about. Or a man, for that matter.
That simply could not get past an editor.
But Lucey did, and more than once.
I’m not complaining, I’m just saying.
Back to the present. So far Lucey hasn’t said anything, and she shouldn’t, even though this has garnered her more attention than anything else in her career. It’s bad when a reporter, no matter how innocently, becomes the story, because reporters are supposed to be neutral observers of the story.
And now that I have said that, I expect she will do an op-ed for Bloomberg or some other outlet.
Not complaining, just saying.
