Chapter 107: Mister Buckman Goes To Washington

“Mos Eisley spaceport: You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.”

Change the name from Mos Eisley spaceport to Washington, D.C., and you’ve got the idea! Even Obi Wan Kenobi would have despaired of this place! That doesn’t mean I was sorry I had run for office. It just made me want to be cautious.

Friday, I managed to get lucky and got a decent draw on office assignments. Names get pulled out of a hat, and afterwards you have fifteen minutes to pick an office. There are three offices for the House of Representatives, Rayburn, Longworth, and Cannon, all on Independence Avenue south of the Capitol. There is a definite pecking order in where you get to call home. It’s like back at Kegs, with Room Roulette, only not as organized, although probably more sober. Seniors outrank juniors, etc. The most coveted offices are in the Capitol building itself, but that is too small. Only senior ranking people, like the Speaker or the Leaders are in there. Most want to be in Rayburn, which is the newest building, and has an underground subway line over to the Capitol! Next down the list is Longworth, and then you have Cannon. Cannon is the oldest and you don’t want to be there. The offices are smaller and were designed before the current staffs got so big. Freshmen Congressmen end up on the top floors of both Longworth and Cannon, and in Cannon, half your staff is in what is known as “The Cages.” Quite literally, they sit in an open bullpen arrangement across a hall from your office and are surrounded by cages which can be locked when unoccupied. It’s like Siberia, only not as congenial. There were two other Congressional office buildings, Ford and O’Neill, but these were only used by committee staff, and in the case of O’Neill, Congressional pages.

Brewster McRiley had told me about this and told me to get an office anywhere but Cannon. When my name was called early in the process, I got one on the fourth floor of Longworth. It wasn’t the biggest office, but I would be able to keep my staff in one place without them feeling like second class citizens. Staffing would be difficult enough without having to put up with a two-tier system.

I wouldn’t be able to move in until sometime in December, during the lame duck session. Losers must leave by the end of November. I wasn’t sure how you got to better offices if you moved up in seniority, but they had to have some sort of rules. My new office was still occupied by somebody who was voted out of office, so I decided to be polite and not check it out until after he had left.

I stayed through Saturday and met with Jacqueline Staymann-Huestis that morning. She seemed capable of meeting my needs, though snobby, which she tried to keep to herself but failed. Instead, she tried for obsequious, considering she must have known about my money. Weird.

Marilyn and I had gone over our needs already, at least between ourselves. First and foremost, we wanted to keep our primary residence back in Hereford. It was close enough that I figured I could commute, if not every day, then every other day. We’d give that a shot before moving to Washington. Still, we would need a place in D.C., and we wanted a home with a yard for the kids and the dog. The most convenient place,’ for those who can afford it’, was in the Georgetown district or out near Rock Creek Park. She promised to line up some prospects. I could do a first cut on things, and then bring Marilyn down to make a final decision. One important feature I told her was the financing; I wanted a two-year lease with an option to buy. I would be generous on the lease terms, since it was unusual, but I needed an out if things didn’t work out.

My committee assignments weren’t all that great. The big committees, the powerful committees, were the ones like Ways and Means (in charge of taxes), Budget (in charge of, you guessed it, the budget), or Armed Services (again, obvious). It was unusual for a freshman to end up on any of these committees. I found myself selected for Science, Space, and Technology and on the Subcommittee on Science. My second committee assignment was Veterans Affairs, and the Subcommittee for Disability Assistance. The first because of my doctorate in applied math; the second because I was a veteran myself.

I wasn’t overly impressed, but I kept that to myself. Science, Space, and Technology had about half a dozen name changes over the years (adding and subtracting the words Space and Technology). Most of the time the committee played catch-up to whatever was happening out in the rest of the world. If they did manage to come up with something useful, you could count on them being overruled by one of the more powerful committees. Veterans Affairs was the same and was relegated to being the outfit that supervised the Department of Veterans Affairs, which had only been created the year before. Nobody paid any attention unless there was a scandal going on.

To the extent that I was ambitious, I needed to get off these two committees, and onto something more interesting. With my recent background in political economics, Ways and Means or Budget would be good; with my military experience I wanted either Armed Services or Intelligence; with my knowledge of finance the House Financial Services Committee would be good (Andy Stewart’s old hangout). Even Transportation (Eat Your Peas! and infrastructure) might be interesting, although toothless.

That Saturday I made it home, and I spent the next couple of days getting to know my children again. Charlie was old enough to know what I was doing, but the twins were still a bit confused by it all. My schedule was full, though.

That week I had an appointment with a prospect for the Chief of Staff position on Monday after my weekend back in Hereford. For staff I had to start with my Chief of Staff. He, or she, runs the operation, and is critical. I was more than a bit clueless with this. Back when we started the Buckman Group, Jake brought his secretary with him, and that was how we started the staffing. In this case, I didn’t know anybody. I had talked to Newt Gingrich, the Minority Whip, during one of the orientation sessions, and he gave me the name and number for a guy named Chuck Hanson. Chuck had been a Deputy Chief of Staff for a Congressman who had just lost his job and seemed like he could step up to being Chief of Staff. I would start there.

I met the man and he seemed qualified, so I put him on my staff. We decided on the most critical jobs - Legislative Director, Executive Assistant, and a Constituent Services Director. The Legislative Director and the Constituent Services Director would propose several people of their own, who I would then meet and hire, to oversee legislation and deal with the people back in the Maryland Ninth. Cheryl would be the Field Representative back in the district and would become a government employee. My Press Secretary I would hire through the campaign office, and he wouldn’t be a federal employee, saving a slot for somebody else. Most everybody was involved in constituent services. What couldn’t be managed back at the Field Office would need to be sorted out with the Washington professionals who were used to navigating the impossibly large Washington bureaucracy. At that point Chuck gave me a shopping list for staff and turned me loose. He would be looking as well.

My first stop was to see my fellow Republican Congressmen from the great state of Maryland, Helen Bentley (Maryland 2^nd) and Connie Morella (Maryland 8^th), preferably before Wayne Gilchrest (Maryland 1^st) got to them. Wayne was a freshman like me. I was only partially successful in this. I met Helen while Wayne was meeting Connie, and we ran into each other rushing off to meet the other. We had a laugh at this and resolved to meet for lunch later in the morning. From what I learned from Chuck, almost every Congressman has some junior staffers who can be convinced to move to a new office, especially if a promotion is involved. The Congressman losing the junior staffer also has some incentives to allow this. First, there’s a quid pro quo involved - you get my junior assistant flunky, I get your vote on a few bills. Secondly, they now have a blank spot on their own staff they can fill, perhaps with the offspring of somebody powerful or wealthy or connected. Finally, maybe they take this as an opportunity to give a glowing recommendation for the local village idiot and pawn him off on the unsuspecting newbie, who is now no longer their headache, but your headache. Hey, I’m just saying, it happens!

Overall, the entire exercise reminded me of pre-Civil War slave trading, only it wasn’t as dignified.

At lunch, Wayne and I had a very nice meal, got to know each other, and discussed our new staff members. This was his first elected office, also, although it was his second run for office. Nice fellow, used to teach high school. He offered to pick up the check, and I agreed, making him promise to let me pay when we took our wives to dinner some night. Then we split up, to keep hunting for staff. We both had the makings of a staff by the end of the week.

I also spent a day with Jacqueline Staymann-Huestis and looked at homes. It’s a good thing I’m rich! We found a nice place in Massachusetts Avenue Heights on 30^th Street, which would ‘only’ set me back about $2 million. What a bargain! Still, it had a fair-sized back yard to let the kids and dog run around in, six bedrooms and baths, and was large enough to have a gigantic formal foyer, formal living room, banquet-size formal dining room, den/library/office, and a designer kitchen with a breakfast nook. It was quite a bit larger than our house in Hereford. If I amounted to anything in the House, it would be perfect for entertaining and home office space. I gave Jacqueline a tentative approval on the property but told her I would need to bring my wife back in a week to look at it. She commented that homes of this quality wouldn’t last long. I told her I’d chance it; there were very few people moving to Washington who could afford a home with that price tag. I smiled and wished her luck moving it in the next week or so.

I had booked the suite at the L’Enfant Plaza for the time between the election and the opening of the 102^nd Congress. By then I figured I would be able to find a house and get a start on furniture and what not. Marilyn brought the kids down the following weekend, and they gave the 30^th Street house their blessing, and I gave Jacqueline a significant check. She then asked, “Have you chosen a designer yet?”

“A designer?” I asked. I looked over at Marilyn, and she seemed as clueless as me.

“Yes, to coordinate your décor and space, of course.”

“Oh, like an interior decorator?” asked Marilyn.

“Something like that,” she replied.

“Well, my Aunt Peg offered to let me have the furniture in the basement until I could cash my first paycheck and get over to IKEA. Still, I guess we could get a designer. What do you think, honey?” I asked Marilyn.

“Will you behave? You’re as bad as the kids!” She turned to Jacqueline and said, “Never mind him. Do you know a decorator?”

The woman dug a business card out of her briefcase and passed it along. I gave her John’s business card, and one for Andrea. Andrea had agreed to review everything with John, to make sure it was all okay. I wanted a quick closing, which should make everybody happy. We retrieved the kids from the back yard, along with Dum-Dum, and loaded them back up. We drove around the neighborhood a bit, and then we took the kids home. I really needed to look into a better method of commuting. This took two hours each way and was not realistic.

The solution to this presented itself in mid-December. I made an appointment to talk to Lloyd Jarrett of Executive Charters and drove out to see him at the Westminster Airport. “Carl, what’s up? By the way, congrats on winning the election. I would have voted for you, but I actually live down below Reisterstown.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the thought. That’s sort of why I’m here, actually, in a roundabout fashion,” I replied.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We’re still living here, over in Hereford, and it’s crazy to drive back and forth. What I was wondering is, well, what if I buy a helo and commute? Can I do that?”

He blinked in surprise but shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, sure, it can be done. When did you get a pilot’s license?”

It was my turn to look surprised. “No, no, not me! I mean, I’d buy the helo and base it either here or there, and go back and forth as the passenger, like a limo, sort of.”

Lloyd looked at me curiously. “Carl, do you have any idea what that would involve? This would not be cheap!”

“Tell me.”

“Well, there’s the chopper itself. A new Jet Ranger, which would do the trick nicely, will probably run you close to a mill on its own. Then you’ll need a pilot, and you’ll need a mechanic, because helicopters break down real fucking easy! You’ve got to park it someplace, which means you’ll need to pay pad fees and hangar rental, probably both here and there. Fuel and parts ... Carl, you have to be looking at close to a million or two to set this up, and at least a million a year to keep it going.”

I nodded to myself. I could afford that. “What about airplanes? What would a G-III cost me?”

He stared in disbelief. “A Gulfstream III to commute between here and Washington? That’s crazy!”

I smiled and nodded. “No, that’s crazy! I agree! No, I’m just curious, how much would that run?”

“Good Lord! Okay, the plane will be a few million. You can probably pick up one just a few years old for a reasonable figure. A lot of them have come on the market as owners trade up to the new G-IV model. You’ll need two pilots for that, as well as the same sort of hangar space and fees and parts and fuel. If you want both, you’ll be paying two to three mill a year, at least.”

“But it could be done?”

“Yeah, sure. With enough cash anything can be done. Hell, we made it to the moon, didn’t we? D.C. should be a piece of cake.” Then he scratched his head and asked, “Are you serious about this?”

“Yeah, I think so. Can it be done?”

“Okay, but here’s another approach. What do you know about planes and helos, really? Why not pay me to handle this. We can put the birds under Executive Charters’ name and certificates, use our facilities, our pilots, our mechanics and offices and hangars. We handle everything and you get either exclusive use or preferred use on everything. If you aren’t using them, we can use them for rental or charter, to offset the costs.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped halfway. This might make sense. I didn’t really want to own airplanes; I just wanted to use them whenever I could. Why in the world did I want to run an airline? Even the airlines lost money doing that, and they were the ones who were supposed to know how to do it! I closed my mouth, thought about it, and gave Lloyd a wry smile. “Listen, do me a favor and look into this. Come up with a proposal. I just want to be able to hop back and forth when I want to and use the airplane for longer trips and vacations and such.”

“You want to go into National, or College Park?”

“College Park?” That was where the University of Maryland was, just outside of D.C.

“There’s a small airport there, be good for small stuff, easier to fly into and out of than National. A Gulfstream would be too big for it, but a helo would be fine. Further out, though.”

“Work it up both ways. I might have to drive from our home to both to time them.”

Lloyd nodded. “Where’s the house?”

“Northwest. Near the Naval Observatory and Rock Creek Park.”

He nodded again. “Give me a few days. Let me make some calls and work something up.”

We shook hands on it. Maybe we could make this work.

The day after my offices in Longworth were emptied, I moved in. It was bare bones, but habitable. Sherry Longbottom, my new Legislative Director, commented, “Not much to look at, is it?”

“You’d prefer a spot over in the Cages?” I asked.

“Been there, done that! It’s really quite lovely here, isn’t it?”

“That’s the winning attitude!” I answered, smiling. “Okay, seriously, let’s make this habitable. Figure out what we’re going to need and let’s get it ordered. I don’t need a matching mahogany and gold suite, but we need something decent, computers for everybody, printers, copiers, all that stuff. If we don’t have it, get it. Beg, borrow, or steal, I don’t care. If you need me to run interference, fine, but you guys probably know how to get it done better than I do.”

Mindy McIlroy, my Executive Assistant, smiled and commented, “I am guessing your watchword will be plausible deniability?”

“You have hit upon my next campaign slogan! Write that down!” I motioned for her and Chuck to follow me into my personal office, which was also fairly bare. I glanced around and said, “The same goes here. I’m not all that picky on décor, but we need to do something. In the meantime, let’s go over my schedule.” The three of us sorted things out. The lame duck session was over, and wouldn’t reconvene until January 3^rd, early for Congress. Then we would be out again for almost two weeks in February, almost three weeks in March/April, and another week in May, two weeks in June/July, six weeks in August/September, and then another six or seven weeks from November until January in ‘92. I started adding things up, and I counted out about twenty-six weeks when Congress wasn’t in session, half the year! It gets worse - most work weeks are only four days long!

It’s not as inefficient as that makes it seem. The worker bees on the staff work Monday through Friday, and through recesses. It’s the elected officials who spend most of their time doing anything other than the nation’s business. I had already heard about the informally named ‘Tuesday-Thursday Club’. These were the Congressmen who would fly home on Thursday night and fly back to Washington on Tuesday morning, cramming four days of fundraisers or junkets into the weekend, and then forcing themselves to put in three days in Washington - usually at fundraisers.

It’s one hell of a system!

Then I went out to talk to Sherry about anything coming up for votes or committee action. Nothing significant seemed to be on the horizon involving either Science or Veterans Affairs, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t work that would be involved. After Congress convened, I’d start officially attending committee meetings, but before that I would be learning my assignments and meeting with top committee staffers.

Then I went home for a few days. I would be back on Monday morning, and I expected to find some decent office furnishings and a functional staff by then, by hook or by crook! Meantime, I had to go home and be husband and daddy for a few days. In particular, the Cub Scouts were doing an overnight camping trip this Saturday night, and I needed to attend. Charlie was looking forward to this. He was a Webelo now, and they could go camping. They only did one night at a time, not two or more like the Boy Scouts did. I had missed an earlier trip during the campaign. I couldn’t put it off again.

That Thursday night, all that Charlie could talk about was the upcoming camping trip. Both of the twins wanted to go camping, too, to which their brother replied, “No way! You’re girls!”

I stifled a laugh and shook my head. “I think you two should stay home and help Mom.”

Holly whined, “Mom!”

Molly whined, “Dad!”

I just looked my wife in the eye and shook my head, “NO!” That was all I needed - a winter camping trip with three women who had never been camping before! I’d rather go camping back in Nicaragua.