The rest of the country may be in recession, but the lawyers and
lobbyists in Washington have not been cutting back. I should know:
I have been freeloading off of them. Every day in the last week, I
have been treated to a breakfast, a lunch or an after-work happy
hour by some group of well-heeled influence peddlers.
The best part about it is that I don’t have to pull any
strings or gatecrash to get in. Invitations simply arrive in my
email inbox, sometimes several in a day. Most are from people whom
I don’t even know but are nevertheless eager to make my
acquaintance.
What makes me so popular? I’m not sure really. I’m a
professional writer by trade and I have covered a lot of different
subjects in my time. At some point my name appears to have gotten
caught, flypaper-like, on the list of “writers who cover our topic”
of most every interest group in town. So they ply me with free
drinks and food.
Or maybe they just want another warm body to fill the room
during whatever it is that they are talking about. Either way, I
show up when I can. Journalism is not an automatic path to riches
and, really, are there two sweeter words in the English language
than “open bar”?
Besides the people you meet at these events are invariably
friendly and chatty, eager to tell you how their particular
client’s interest really is the whole nation’s interest and
therefore needs special attention from Congress. I nod sagely as
they say this, unless the line at the bar is short.
Rarely will one hear anything at these events about how
the nation is deeply in debt — $15 trillion at last count. That is
an abstract problem, probably someone else’s problem and one that
will probably get fixed once the economy stops being so problematic
anyway. Whenever that happens.
It is easy to think that way if you are isolated from the
pain the rest of the country is feeling in this recession. And
there are few places that have weathered the storm as well as
Washington, D.C. and its surrounding suburbs. Property values here
remain high and the public sector continues to grow. In fact, D.C.
is now officially the nation’s wealthiest city, thanks to its high
concentration of lawyers.
Not everyone is rolling in the dough, of course. But
enough of them are and most them got that way by the making the
government’s business their business. And that business is never in
recession.
I was at one event the other night, thrown by a tony K
Street firm. It was held in the penthouse of a tall office
building, with spectacular views of the city. It was exactly the
sort of lobbyist gathering that Democrats often say they are
fighting against — except that most of the people at this event
were Democrats, many ex-Capitol Hill staffers, now enjoying the
six-figure life. There’s plenty of work on both sides of the
street.
As I chatted with these folks over good wine and better
crab cakes, the topic du jour was the apparent failure of
Congress’s budgetary “super committee” to come up with a plan to
get the deficit under control.
If a deal is struck, the firm’s clients would want their
priorities protected from the budget axe, which would mean plenty
of work for the lobbyists. If the committee fails and the automatic
sequestration budget cuts hit, well, their clients will need the
same kind of protection. And if nothing at all happens, well, the
firm had plenty of work before the super committee
anyway.
So, back to business as usual, my cocktail party friends
say. That doesn’t sound right to me. The government cannot just
spend forever. But for now the party continues, at least as long as
it is someone else’s tab at the bar.
From the windows of the penthouse, you could actually see
the few dozen Occupy DC protesters camped out far below at the
city’s McPherson Square — scruffy, dimwitted lefties who think
they are somehow fighting the corrupting influence of money by
freezing their asses off in a park at night. I doubt anyone at the
event noticed them — or if they did, if they cared.
You know, there is probably a metaphor in there somewhere,
but I cannot think of it. Anyhow, I went home after the bar
closed.
