When Jimmy Carter Roasted Robert J. Binney: A Comedic Connection in History

Jimmy Carter, who passed away on Sunday, is the first presidential contender I can recall publicly articulating an opinion. Ultimately, Carter would also become the first (and only) president to openly share an opinion about me.

Throughout Carter’s administration, he faced harsh criticism and mockery, yet during his lifetime, he was frequently celebrated for his dedication to public service and expansive, renaissance intellect. Personally, I will always remember him as a man possessing a dry sense of humor and a keen tongue. If you have ever pondered why Carter was seen smiling often, it might be attributed to his amusing personality.

My initial encounter with the former president occurred in the spring of 1987. I was serving as the editor-in-chief of the Emory Spoke, the humor magazine run by students at Emory University in Georgia. We produced three issues each academic year, typically exhausting our budget on the edition released in the fall semester, a full-color spoof of a “real” magazine – “Playspoke” one year, “Spokelights for Kids” another.

Not long before my time in charge, a copy of a previous editorial team’s “Peeple Spokely” reached the corporate counsel of Time-Life. They swiftly prohibited us from ever infringing on any of their titles again. It felt as if catastrophic consequences, ruinous legal actions, and dire consequences would descend upon any student courageous enough to disregard their warnings.

My decision was straightforward: that fall’s issue would satirize Time magazine.

“How can we avoid catastrophic consequences?” our managing editor inquired.

It hit me suddenly. “We’ll feature Carter on the cover. ‘Man of the Year’! If they come after us, the publicity will be lethal.”

Since Emory hosted the Carter Center and his presidential library, I leveraged every connection I had to secure an interview. Months after our requests began, I was summoned to the office of the dean, who had previously appeared on the cover of “Rolling Spoke” wearing a parking cone on his head. The respect underlying our irreverence had yielded results – we would be allocated 30 minutes with Carter, and there would be no topics off limits.

I’ll credit it to audacity rather than any underlying Republican tendencies, but about a month later, on the day of the interview, when Carter entered the room, I tossed him a T-shirt adorned with the Spoke’s logo and asked him to wear it for the cover photograph. He willingly obliged.

The interview was exquisite – Carter discussed Domino’s pizza deliveries to the White House, Willie Nelson performing on the South Lawn, and installing a high-fidelity system in the Oval Office to enjoy music from his friends, the Allman Brothers. He revealed his greatest presidential disappointment – not dispatching a second helicopter during the unsuccessful hostage rescue in Iran.

When we probed what he wanted to convey about President Ronald Reagan behind his back, he stated, “That he is incapable of telling the truth.” When we inquired what he would express to Reagan face-to-face, he replied, “The same thing.” That remark made the front page of the Wall Street Journal.

While advocating for the interview, we were upfront about our satirical approach and shared previous Spoke issues. During the conversation, we reiterated our origin as a humor magazine. “I haven’t heard anything amusing yet,” Carter replied with a deadpan delivery. We asked about his experiences with journalists and whether he ever felt the urge to strike a reporter. “Yes,” he acknowledged, “and this is one of those occasions.”

Following the publication of the issue, I received a letter from Carter that included the phrase, “I’m glad my humorous replies more than compensated for the absence of that characteristic in your questions.”

At times, I still astound myself, recalling that I once exchanged witty remarks with a former president. On other occasions, I feel overwhelmed by the realization that a future Nobel Prize laureate criticized me for a skill I believed I possessed.

Our encounters continued on a few more occasions, and each time, Carter’s humor stood out remarkably. At one formal dinner, he dared me to consume the edible flower garnish from the dessert. Before I could react, he popped it into his mouth.

He could have devised that jest for anyone seated at the table. However, I prefer to think it was personal, and others who have interacted with Carter multiple times have expressed feeling a bewildering humility that the former leader of the free world remembered them by name.

A few years later, while I pursued my MBA at Emory, Carter appeared as a distinguished lecturer.

He strode up to the lectern and scanned our business-attired audience. Then he turned to his assistant and remarked, “You didn’t inform me Binney would be present.”

Turning my way, he raised his eyebrows and said, politely, “Try to keep up.”

My classmates were taken aback. Some were in disbelief, while others were in admiration. How had I managed to annoy a president?

I hadn’t, of course. It was simply an ideal moment for a man with a mischievous sense of humor, a sharp memory, and a microphone. A man who forged meaningful connections with those he encountered, whether on a global stage or within a college environment.

Robert J. Binney is a screenwriter based in Seattle.