
Bombastic yet boyish, TV and radio host Glenn Beck has built a devoted following and assembled an eclectic collection of fine watches.
In Glenn Beck's windowless, claustrophobic CNN office at Manhattan's Time Warner Center amid an Art Deco-inspired poster of the World Trade Center entitled "Remember," a shelf lined with 1930s wooden radios, and a case of gleaming, hefty-sized watches lying on a custom-made standing desk there's little hint of anything controversial.
Even as broadcast time approaches, and a nervous energy takes over, nothing suggests that this rising media star was ever out of control that he has been resurrected after grappling with the devils of drugs and alcohol for over 20 mind-numbing years.
With a popular TV show on CNN's Headline News cable network, and a Premiere Radio Networks audience of close to three million listeners. Beck undeniably has buzz. He is now poised to become one of America's most recognizable talking-head pundits, alongside fellow outspoken righties Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity. But Beck is a different breed. He describes himself self-deprecatingly as an "alcoholic rodeo clown" and "sick, twisted freak," but in actuality comes across as an unpretentious, straight-shooting Regular Guy, eager to take on spin-meistersof any political stripe. He typically goes beyond mere partisan rants to offer incisive, sharp-elbowed perspectives that are engaging and straight from the gut.
"Americans are awfully tired of the right-and-left stuff, tired of the usual politics; they want to get to what's right and wrong," insists Beck, 43, wearing a much cherished original 1936 Panerai Radiomir with a California dial, and sitting next to the somber reminder on the wall of America's still-echoing 9/11 tragedy.
Today is his first day back from vacation; coincidentally, it is also the day that Attorney General Alberto Gonzales announces his resignation. And Beck, of course, chimes in on the subject with his own take. "No one cares about him resigning," he says. "No one cares about a memo that was handled like a bunch of third graders, or about those firings. The news media needs a quick hit, simplistic answers for ADD Americans. It would be much better to look at what's happening with Mexico, immigrants and our border agents."
This is the rather subdued Beck, the one becalmed by a restful summer idyll on the islands outside Seattle. But there's also the quick-witted, defiant provocateur, the inflammatory, mince-no-words Beck who candidly goes for the jugular in a no-regrets, no-apologies style that's made him a figure of scorn among many on the Left.
Beck continually out-hardballs better-known talkers like O'Reilly and Rush Limbaugh with a searing, unrepentant outrageousness that never quite veers into sanctimony. The New York Times said in 2006 that he "takes credit for saying what others are feeling but are afraid to say." Among the choice barbs that have won him the enmity of the liberal movement are calling former President Jimmy Carter "a waste of skin" and anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan "a prostitute;" likening Al Gore's film An Inconvenient Truth to Nazi propaganda; and describing certain Hurri¬cane Katrina victims as "scumbags." (The watchdog website Media Matters, which catalogs many of his more controversial comments, fails to report that Beck, with the help of the Kobold Watch Company, auctioned a watch to support the Katrina relief effort.) He wondered aloud if the attractive wife of Democratic presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich (D-OH) was under the influence of "some sort of date rape drug."
Were these blasts over the top, symptomatic of a push for ratings in an America that's been increasingly torn apart by the culture wars? Is Beck truly the "evil conservative" incarnate, as his detractors would have us believe?
"If I'm going to be called that, God bless it," he says, gladly shrugging off the hits he's taken from liberal lions such as Michael Moore and Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. "I'll wear the moniker. 'Conservative,' to me, means pulling yourself up by the freaking bootstraps and taking responsibility. I embrace that."
War and Timepieces
Veering away from weightier issues, our conversation focuses on Beck's recent ardor for highly collectible watches and the fine clocks that fill every wall of his house. Today, his collection includes an IWC Portuguese Chronograph Rattrapante, a vintage Patek Philippe and vintage Zenith, several Panerais, and other meticulously crafted pieces. You can find all of these watches in Glen's collection and more for a fraction of the cost he paid by visiting http://www.timetraditions.com. Many watches they have include the IWC Replica watch, replica Patek Philippe, Panerai Replica watch, and many other top designer inspired watches.
"A decorator friend, who saw all the clocks in my house, told me, 'You have a time issue,'" he recalls. "I don't really know why. Maybe it has to do with the value of time, my thinking during my boyhood that time is short. It was for my mother, who died while I was still young. As a youngster I thought I'd repeat her life. So I guess clocks and watches are some psychological issue [with me]. You just don't have much time."
Now fascinated by the mechanical complexities of fine timepieces, Beck has become an ardent devotee of Panerai, IWC, and the Pittsburgh-based Kobold. He calls this last company an "American story of persistence and ingenuity. Kobold is the quintessential American watch. Of all the watches I own, more listeners will come up to me and say, 'Oh, please, tell me you are wearing the 24 watch,'" he says, referring to the actual Kobold watch once worn by Kiefer Sutherland in the Fox TV series "24" that company founder Michael Kobold gave to Beck to celebrate their friendship. "But it's probably the watch I wear the least. It's irre¬placeable. I don't want to beat that one up."
All of Beck's watches evoke passionate descriptions of fine detailing, workmanship, and their power to tell stories. His father's gold Gruen Curvex reminds him of a "golden age" in American history, and his Du-bey & Schaldenbrand is a testament to "a strong woman owning a ma¬jor company." (Dubey is one of the few watch brands owned by a female, Switzerland's Cinette Robert.) Equally important to him, these timepieces all are memorable objects that he envisions passing on to two teenaged daughters from his first marriage and the two children from his current one, ages three and one.
The mention of his children once again moves Beck to shift the conversation from Panerai and Patek Philippe back to politics, at least for a few moments, as he gives vent to his fears about U.S. policy in Iraq. Here, too, he is thinking about his children's future, and sees a looming, all-engulfing catastrophe for the western world.
"Global warming is a real problem, but the number one issue of our day is standing up to Islamic terrorism," says Beck, a native of Mount Vernon, Washington who now lives in Connecticut. "Our priorities should focus on what will kill us the fastest. We can solve [both] the Islamic terror threat and global warming by getting the oil monkey off our back. Brazil doesn't import any oil, and we can do the same.
"But my worst fear is we do nothing against Islamic terror. There are two real enemies that no one wants to address for political reasons. One is Saudi Arabia, which is dumping money into Wahhabism all over the world. The second one is Iran. That's why if we leave Iraq, and create a vacuum there, it will leave an opening for Iran. If we don't pop the head of the snake" meaning Iran "or leave Iraq without fixing it, securing it, this will turn out to be another Darf ur."
According to one of Beck's critics, MSNBC's Keith Olbermann, "One night, he'll say something that will cost him his career in television." Don't expect that, even in this post-lmus era. As Beck's CNN TV producer Conway Cliff told GO in response to the suggestion that Beck was slotted on Headline News to counter Fox News Network's perceived conservative tilt, "He [Beck] is a polarizing figure. That's why we hired him."
Radio Days
The son of a baker who was afraid to wear his Gruen while mixing ingredients for donuts and cakes, Beck got his first media job at age 13. He won a radio contest in Mount Vernon, and was quickly hired and fired by a Christian radio station.
"Not having a handle on how radio really worked, I turned the transmitter off at about 9:00 PM one night, thinking no one was listening. The next morning I was fired," Beck says, chuckling. "The guy at the station thought I stank. Still sounding out words on the air, I did stink."
Overcoming that failure, Beck chose to forego college to become a DJ and worked at various stations across the country, including Houston's KRBE and WBSB in Baltimore. He relished radio's magic, its unique ability to celebrate the spoken word. "It's a lost art. You can create any emotion, any feeling, anything at any time just by using your head and voice," explains Beck, a fan of Orson Welles and Garrison Keillor who first dreamed of being a radio star after he was given a record, The Golden Years of Radio, at age eight by his mother. "You can say the same word with five different inflections and create five different meanings. It's like being an actor."
While he was running from station to station in the 1980s and '90s, Beck, by his own admission, was also running from himself, mixing Jack Daniels-and-Cokes with a steady marijuana habit. His mother was addicted to drugs and alcohol, and after she committed suicide in 1977, it was understandably easy for him to surrender to the same demons.
"Drinking, doing drugs, you name it it was an insecurity thing," says Beck, who at the height of his addiction in the early 1990s was managing three New Haven, Connecticut radio stations. "I was smoking pot every day of my life into the early 1990s, and I wasn't a very good person. I was self-centered and not a very good boss. Now I have a hard time remembering a whole bunch of stuff. I'm convinced this did some damage to my brain. I just burned too many brain cells. Not a week goes by that I'm on the air, and I don't think to myself,' Damn you foryour drug abuse.'"
In 1994, a doctor told him that his vices would kill him in six months. Even then, Beck couldn't free himself from them, and his visits to numerous therapists only reinforced the fact that he had become very adept at lying to himself. Nothing helped until he rededicated himself to his Mormon faith, and began attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.
He still speaks candidly about his past mistakes on the air, yet avoids being preachy. Unlike many current media pundits, Beck listens allowing real debate between contrasting views. He features guests who will defend their positions without sounding overly partisan and predictable.
"I try to be fair and balanced, and to be a prism, a filter," Beck claims. "Fox gets into trouble because their news programs become opinion pieces. I want reasonable people on my show, like Peter Fenn, who's worked for Clinton. We can disagree but we are not disagreeable. If you start yelling, I don't want you on my show. That's why Ann Coulter doesn't like me too much. I told her it was time for our country to stop throwing bombs at each other."
Beck's approach seems to work. As GO reported, his show is the fastest growing in cable news, with an audience described as "very desirable" the second youngest of any show on CNN.
From '36 to "24"
Success has catapulted him into watch heaven. In the 1980s, before his ratings began to fly off the charts and he was able to get serious about watch collecting, he usually wore an obscure watch called a Bradford with a transparent caseback. This classically styled, round watch still remains a mystery to him. "No one, not even anyone at Tourneau, has been able to tell me anything about Bradford," says Beck, who was given a yellow-gold Rolex President as part of a signing bonus from WBSB in 1985. "The only thing I know about the Bradford is that it's beautiful." Even the yellow-gold Rolex President replica watch has the same style and detail as it's orginal counterpart.
About 10 years ago Beck met Arnold Schwarzenegger, and that's when his collecting intensified. The action-star-turned-California-governor was wearing a 47-mm watch that fascinated Beck. He couldn't afford a Panerai, one of Schwarzenegger's preferred timepieces, during those lean years, but recently secured a very rare 1936 Radiomir Luminor Marina through the help of a company his media production works with. It's an acquisition that continues to delight him.
"I desperately wanted this watch, and it was incredibly exciting to find something that no one else can get," says Beck, who insists he's indifferent to the asset value of these treasures. "I had only seen this watch once. I was beginning to think it was just a figment of my imagination. With the Arabic and Roman numerals, there's a mystery there. It's so stunning."
Beck is also enamored of his yellow-gold IWC Portuguese Chronograph Rattrapante, a gift from his wife on their fifth anniversary, that reminds him of "a clean, simple surgical instrument;" a vintage yellow-gold Patek Philippe from the 1940s with arrow-like hands; and a large, stainless-steel Zenith pilots' watch from 1928. This last piece features a huge crown and a red arrow on its face, and like many of Beck's classics, "is wonderfully unique, with a craftsmanship that epitomizes perfection."
Beck particularly adores timepieces with stories behind them. From the leather case on his desk, he removes a black-dialed watch with a unidirectional rotating bezel with countdown minute scale and scratch-resistant PVD coating. "I just love my Kobold '24' Phantom Tactical Chronograph," he says. "Here was Michael Kobold, who had a childhood dream of being a watchmaker, and against all odds his family was against him starting a company he comes to the U.S. [from Germany], and does it in a country that no longer embraces watchmakers.
"This guy understands America, unlike most Americans. Even though he came from extraordinary wealth, he wanted to pursue his dream. I love that. So I only wear this chronograph on special occasions." Beck is so fond of this piece that he's given Kobold watches to members of his staff, and is constantly promoting the brand. These efforts have cemented his friendship with Michael Kobold.
"Glenn is a character just a hilarious, terrific guy," says Kobold. "Ever since he raised $15,000 for Katrina victims with my watch, we've become friends. I've also become friends with the producers of '24' after they flew me out to Hollywood a few years ago, and wound up lending them watches for the show. The one Kiefer wore, Glenn got. I didn't know Glenn was a huge '24' fan. But he called to let me know he loved the watch. We've had people going to Iraq and Afghanistan wearing that watch. It's made to kick ass."
The same can be said about Beck. Brother Beck, as the Reverend Al Sharpton has dubbed him, provokes, incites, and stimulates. In this era of ear-splitting left-right cultural wars, he's also refreshing, a voice that doesn't cloak itself in self-righteousness. He's easy to listen to, no matter what his admitted faults.
"I'm a little concerned that freedom of speech in this country is starting to fall into the hands of a very few," says Beck, responding to the firing of Don Imus, and the increasing constraints of political correctness in America. "My grandparents would say, if you don't like what's being
said, turn it off. That's the best way to vote on speech. If you don't like what I'm saying, turn me off."


















