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Getting connected Taking Care of BusinessBy Rick Horowitz Buh-beep! Buh-beep! Buh-beep! Buh-be -- His alarm clock. (It only sounds like a marching band.) He's already slapped the snooze button a half-dozen times; this time, he knows, he really has to pay attention. But why are there hornets loose inside his head? And why does his mouth feel like kitty litter? (Used kitty litter.) The parties. Now he remembers: the inaugural parties. He'd been warned about Inaugural Week in Washington. "Pace yourself," the old-timers had told him. But they'd also said, "Be everywhere." Not to mention, "Meet everyone." So maybe he'd gone just a bit overboard. It was all part of the job for Richard Excess, Boy Lobbyist. * * * Tzzzzt-tzzzzt-tzzzzt! Tzzzzt-tzzzzt-tzzzzt! Tzzzzt-tzzzzt-tzzzzt! His shower nozzle, set to "Intense Massage." (Because there's no setting for "Put Me Out of My Misery.") A thousand tiny machine guns are attacking the hornets, though it's much too early to know who's winning. It's much too early to know anything. He stands there under the spray, his head back, his mouth open. The steam is everywhere. It's especially thick between his ears. Once upon a time -- he's almost sure of it -- he had a functioning brain, and his arms and legs worked the way arms and legs are supposed to work. But that was before Inaugural Week. Before the parties. Now he has a stomach in total revolt and a pocketful of business cards. It was worth it. "It's all about contacts," the old-timers had told him. "Contacts mean access, and access means..." They didn't have to tell him what access means. It was hanging bright and bold on every office wall along K Street: "Access Means Success." Access means the chance to make the pitch. Access means having a sympathetic ear in a high-level commission meeting, or at a regulatory review. Access means an extra finger on the keyboard when the important bills get drafted. A crucial bit of inside help when it really gets down to the fine print. A tiny provision here, an innocent-looking amendment there -- it can make all the difference. Richard
Excess always wanted to make a difference; it's why he'd signed on with
Americans for Open Vistas in the first place. Loggers are people, too.
* * * Ding-dong! -- "Doors closing!" Ding-dong! -- "Doors closing!" Ding-dong! -- The Metro, heading downtown. Richard Excess staggers to a seat, opens the newspaper --is there any reason they had to make the pictures so blurry? So much for the newspaper. He closes his eyes and tries to make mental lists of his new best friends. Cabinet secretaries. Committee chairmen. Deputy-under-assistants-for-something-or-other. And of course, all the other lobbyists working the same side of the street. It wouldn't be Inaugural Week without all the other lobbyists working the same side of the street, and there are plenty of them. These are the good times, and now it looks like four more years every bit as good -- why not get it while you can? Fred from Families United for Extraction -- good chat. They can do business together. Mitch from Asphalt for All -- good chat. They can do business together. Lara from H2O America -- great chat. They can do business together. And maybe even dinner. ("Note to self: Don't drink the water.") All of them and hundreds more, all together and ready to deal. The Despoilers Ball, the old-timers call it, but only in private. "The free-enterprise system at its finest" -- he likes the sound of that. * * * Brrrrinng! Brrrrinng! Brrrri -- The phone on the corner of his desk. Two more lines are already blinking, bright with new possibilities. He shakes the last of that Inaugural Week weariness from his fingers and reaches for the receiver. He can do this. He's going to like this. "Excess here." These are definitely the good times. Posted 1/20/05. Enjoy
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Rick Horowitz
