I was curious. "What will Stewart's staffers be doing?"
He shrugged. "Same sort of thing. Looking for jobs on other Democratic staffs or going to work for a lobbyist. That's one of the ways the lobbyists buy a Congressman. They don't actually go after him, but they go after his staff, and promise them jobs in the future."
"Good Lord! Does anything actually get accomplished?"
"Only when all else fails.", he replied. "Listen, very important, don't piss off anybody else's staff. Some of the long term senior staffers for the more powerful members will have a shitload more pull than you will. Keep that in mind. If you have a chance to be nice to them, take it."
"Not following you. Be nice, how?", I asked.
"There is a whole subculture in D.C. of caterers, decorators, real estate people, restaurants, travel agencies, and the like that are owned or operated or staffed by people related to Congressmen or Senators or their staff. Pay attention to that. All other things being equal, it would be better to hire a 'Republican' decorator than a 'Democrat'. Follow me?"
"Christ! What a fucking snake pit!"
The rest of the week we spent preparing for the transition. I avoided signing anything important until after Orientation, just in case I did something that was a violation of Federal law. In my experience, investigators from the Department of Justice had notoriously small senses of humor. For instance, was I allowed to enter into a long term lease for the campaign headquarters? Could I use the same space for my local office and the future campaign headquarters? Could the headquarters have a door that opened into the local office or did they have to be inviolably separate? Andrea thought up all of these questions.
Who comes up with this shit? Didn't the fine folks at the Federal Election Commission have better things to do than come up with rules on this stuff? Apparently not. It turns out that I couldn't use my campaign offices as my local office; they had to be separate, not even so much as a door between them. I got Andrea working on splitting the space into two sections and developing two lease agreements, one for me to pay for the campaign space and one for Congress to pay for my local offices.
Andrea didn't handle real estate in the D.C. area, but she knew someone who did. She had gotten enough business off of the Buckman Group and referrals over the years that she knew better than to steer me wrong. (The town house and property for me, the office and two expansions for the Buckman Group, John's new home, the Tusk's building and home, a house for Jake Junior, etc. - get the idea?) I checked with Brewster and found out that the person Andrea recommended was the wife of an assistant to the Chief of Staff for Vice President Quayle, an acceptable choice. I talked to this new person, a Jacqueline Staymann-Huestis, and made an appointment to meet with her during Orientation Week. I got the impression that she was busy, but would be happy to sell me a house. Maybe when Andrea told her I was ludicrously rich she changed her mind.
Something else had been rattling around in my brain, as well. I was really rich now. I could buy lots of stuff, like an island villa - or a plane! How much would that cost me? I was now worth around $1.75 billion. At even a 5% return on my investment, which was ridiculously low, that was an annual income of over $87 million. I had to be able to pay operating expenses on a plane or helo at that level! I could probably fly home most nights. That really redefined commuting!
Marilyn had to be with me for at least a night or two in Washington, but the kids had school, so we had to make plans. We made arrangements for a sitter to stay with the kids at the house for a few days, along with one of the security people. We would drive (well, be driven, anyway; it was so weird to be driven instead of just grabbing the keys and going) down Saturday night, Marilyn would stay through the introductory day on Sunday, and then get driven home on Monday. I could get my security detail to drive me around as necessary during the week, and then get me home at the end of the week.
The orientation schedule took up an entire week. We would start out on Sunday at the L'Enfant Plaza Hotel, and we had booked a large suite for me starting Saturday night. One thing I knew was that in this job, more than any other I had ever had, I would need to schmooze. A suite with a parlor or living room could be useful. This was even more important when we bought a home. In this, my wealth was a major advantage. Washington is one of the most expensive cities in America. A large home in a nice neighborhood in a scenic setting, with a nice yard for the kids to run around in, would probably set me back several million dollars, on a par with what I paid for Hougomont, and way beyond the cost of our home in Hereford. However, did I want to buy a house? What if I figured out I was a disaster as a Congressman? Maybe a lease with an option to buy would be better?
Monday and Tuesday, after I sent Marilyn back to our children and normalcy, we were scheduled for 'How to be a Congressman!' classes in the Capitol building. You know, the fun stuff, like where are the bathrooms, and taking the class photo. It would be like going back to elementary school. Wednesday and Thursday we would meet with various Congressional caucuses. We would be able to vote for leadership positions, and I was guessing, find out what committees we would be on. The fun day would be Friday, when they draw names out of a hat to determine our offices. Thirteen years after graduating from Rensselaer, I would be back in a frat house playing Room Roulette!
Meanwhile, for the entire week, we would be wined and dined by all sorts of people there to 'help' us out. All sorts of lobbyists and senior politicians would be looking to line up the support of the young and naïve Congressmen, who still have visions of making a difference. There would be breakfast meetings, luncheons, and dinners with everybody looking to line up or buy our votes. Imagine Darth Vader, only without the light saber, but with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. Then, after you've eaten the cookies, you will be lifted off your feet and have the life crushed out of you. Damn good cookies, though!
To what extent I still had visions of making a difference I wasn't sure. Marilyn generally considered me a pessimist, but I consider myself a realist. I knew I could make a difference, but what would be involved and what I would need to do were still questionable. The one thing I had learned, over two lives, was that I had the internal strength to survive no matter what, and that I could lead. I considered Ted Kennedy, who I had met already. As much as we disagreed on things and as much as I disliked him on a personal basis, the man could lead a group of fractious individuals, and get things done. Now I had to learn, from him and others.
I packed both a large suitcase for myself as well as the hanging bag with a number of different suits. Nobody had said anything about a black tie dinner, so I left my tuxedo at home. Marilyn packed a couple of nice dresses for Saturday and Sunday evening, and something a bit more casual for Sunday during the day. She did tell me, which made me laugh, that she was wearing low heels except for dinners; no way was she wearing high heels for three days running! Monday, she swore, she was going to wear jeans and a tee shirt and look like a bag lady when she went home. It was a good thing she had a driver for that; it was a two hour drive home, and on her own Marilyn would get lost and drive home by way of Arkansas and Ohio.
It was an interesting group I was joining. We had 48 incoming Congressmen, two of whom had already been in Congress, lost, and won back their seats. We also had six new Senators, two of whom had never been in Congress even as Representatives. Of the 48, 27 were Democrats and 20 were Republicans; Vermont had elected Bernie Sanders as an Independent. Bernie was an interesting guy. He mostly worked with the Democrats, and ended up as a Senator.