Climate change, with its polar vortexes and March snowstorms delayed the start of spring here in Washington DC until about five days ago. Consequently, now that it’s suddenly around eighty degrees and sunny, and very well watered after weeks of thoroughly soaking, if bone chilling rain, everything is happening at once. Instead of the usual stately procession of snow stars, crocuses, forsythia, daffodils, asters, tulips, violets and so forth, we’re getting what looks for all the world like a Smithsonian diorama of Mid-Atlantic vernal blooms, with flowering redbud, plum, tulip poplar and about ten million cherry trees rubbing elbows with each other in a mad celebration of life renewed, while robins, cardinals, jays, doves, juncos, titmice, nuthatches, warblers and mockingbirds fill their branches, shouting out a glorious cacophonous chorus of song. So if I hadn’t been making huge bucks every single minute on Saturday dispensing policy analysis to the confused, clueless and desperate of the Nation’s Capital, I truly would have regretted being stuck inside my office from early in the morning until well in the afternoon on a magnificent day like this. As it was, though, an exhilarating sensation of anticipatory glee shot through me at the thought of finally seeing off my last client and getting outside to enjoy it. That was quickly dashed, however, when Gretchen informed me that Congressman Vance McAllister had called and awaited my attendance on Line Two.
McAllister: Hello? Tom Collins?
Tom: At your service, Congressman.
McAllister: Oh, great. I… um… called to ask for your… uh… advice. They say you’re the smartest person in Washington.
Tom: Which is a lot like being the tallest building in Baltimore.
McAllister: Ah, well, uh… I’m not really all that familiar with Baltimore. Great crabs there, I hear. Not that they have the kind of reputation Louisiana crabs have, of course.
Tom: So you like crabs?
McAllister: Oh, yeah, sure, we love ’em down in Louisiana.
Tom: Know how to make Baltimore steamed crabs?
McAllister: Uh, no… how’s that?
Tom: Wait until July and put on some rubber underwear.
McAllister: Huh?
Tom: May I ask how you got my telephone number, Congressman?
McAllister: Uh… er… ah… Phil Robertson gave it to me. He said, if you couldn’t help me, nobody could. Ah… um… he also said you don’t… um… charge for the first… um… session or whatever. Is that true?
Tom: It is indeed, Congressman. Time is, nevertheless, money, so let’s cut to the chase. How can I help you?
McAllister: It’s uh… ah… well… it’s about this um… surveillance video from my district office in Monroe.
Tom: Oh yes, the one where you are seen sharing a deep, intimate, half-minute kiss with a married woman who is not your wife.
McAllister: Uh, yeah, that was Melissa.
Tom: Melissa Hixon Peacock.
McAllister: Uh-huh.
Tom: The wife of your former friend, employee and campaign supporter, Heath Peacock.
McAllister: Yeah.
Tom: To whom you paid, shortly before that lingering, intimate kiss, a sum of three hundred dollars.
McAllister: To her! Not him! And it was for outstanding performance…
Tom: Performance?
McAllister: Yeah… uh… on-the-job performance!
Tom: Of course.
McAllister: It was reimbursement for her cleaning my… headquarters, okay? She cleaned my headquarters really, really good. She did an outstanding job of cleaning my headquarters. It was the best job of cleaning my headquarters I can remember. In fact, it was the most memorable headquarters cleaning job I’ve ever had. Why, she got down on her hands and knees…
Tom: Excuse me?
McAllister: And scrubbed the floors! That’s the kind of dedication I was rewarding, you understand?
Tom: Indubitably.
McAllister: And when someone on my staff displays that kind of commitment to conservative Republican core values, as far as I’m concerned, it’s my duty to reward it in an appropriate manner!
Tom: I understand. But it’s not as if you’ve had your… headquarters… cleaned that many times before, is it? You’ve only been a Congressman since November of 2013, right?
McAllister: Uh… yeah… okay, it was a special election to replace a guy who resigned to go work for Bobby Jindal, but I beat seven other contenders to come in second for the runoff and then in November, I won that by carrying fourteen out of twenty-four parishes. So it’s not like anybody handed me the job, that’s for sure. Why, I spent over four hundred thousand dollars of my own money on that campaign!
Tom: Granted, but still, as far as headquarters cleanings go….
McAllister: I’m including my previous experiences having my corporate headquarters cleaned by women of comparable…. um… headquarters cleaning skills. Believe me, Mr. Collins, I know whereof I speak when it comes to my headquarters and getting them cleaned to world class standards. I’ve been in oil, gas, real estate, fast food, convenience stores, pipelines, equipment rental and professional wrestling promotion, and I’ve had headquarters to match – especially the professional wrestling – and make no mistake about it, I’ve had plenty of women employees, or male employees who introduced me to their wives or girlfriends without me so much as dropping even a teeny tiny little hint, and let me tell you, I know a few things about getting my headquarters cleaned!
Tom: I’m certain you do, Congressman. But it’s true, is it not, that when you traveled here to assume your seat in the House of Representatives, it was, in fact, the very first time in your life that you had been in Washington DC?
McAllister: Uh, well, yeah, okay, it was. So what?
Tom: Sir, Washington DC is unlike any other place in the United States of America.
McAllister: Duh… it is?
Tom: Yes, it is. In fact, some would say it’s unlike any other place in the entire world.
McAllister: Um… in what way?
Tom: Power, sir.
McAllister: Power?
Tom: That’s right – power. Power permeates the place. It’s in the air, everywhere you go; well, west of Rock Creek, south of New York Avenue and on the Capitol side of the Anacostia River, anyway. I’m sure you must have noticed it. You have noticed it, haven’t you?
McAllister: Uh… yeah, I guess I have.
Tom: Well, I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but a lot of people who get elected to Congress from places like Louisiana often become, shall we say, intoxicated by the power here, and it… affects them, often in very deleterious ways.
McAllister: Really? Like what?
Tom: Well, for example, it has been known to… shall we say, impact their reasoning and common sense.
McAllister: Ah… yeah. Um… how… tragic… for them.
Tom: Indeed, Congressman, highly tragic for… them. You know, Congressman, that when one arrives in Washington and takes up a seat in the House of Representatives these days, it’s considered good etiquette to provide your constituents back in your home state with a little bit more content on your US House of Representatives Web site about the issues than the default text.
McAllister: What’s default text?
Tom: Congressman, if someone accesses your official US Government House of Representatives Web site and goes to your Issues and Legislation Web page, and clicks on any of the links there…
McAllister: What are links?
Tom: Those underlined thingies on the Internet you click on to see… um, well, in your case I guess it would be pictures of professional wrestlers or women… cleaning various gentlemen’s… um… headquarters.
McAllister: Oh, them. Yeah, I know what you mean.
Tom: Okay, well, then, the links on your Web site’s Issues and Legislation page all say the same thing: “For more information concerning my work and views on the issues of blah, blah, blah… please contact my Washington DC office. I look forward to your feedback. Thank you.”
McAllister: Blah, blah, blah?
Tom: Sure – depending on the link, for example, “Defense and National Security,” “Economy and Jobs,” “Education,” “Energy,” “Federal Budget,” “Health Care,” “Immigration,” “National Debt,” and so forth, every single Issues and Legislation Web page on your site just has the default text with the name of the anchor link plugged in where the blah, blah, blah goes.
McAllister: And this means something to you?
Tom: Yes sir, it does.
McAllister: And that is?
Tom: I believe it indicates to your constituents back home in Louisiana that, upon arrival here in Washington DC, you immediately fell under its spell and haven’t been able to perform your expected functions and duties as a US Representative in even the most rudimentary manner.
McAllister: You’re… what, reading all of that into what the Issues and Legislation page on my congressional Web site says?
Tom: I’m saying that, based on my experience here inside the Beltway, it’s a symptom, sir.
McAllister: A symptom? A symptom of what?
Tom: Of your WPIS.
McAllister: My what?
Tom: Your Washington Power Intoxication Syndrome.
McAllister: You’re saying, I have this thing, this WPIS?
Tom: Your having it certainly would explain many aspects of your recent behavior, Congressman.
McAllister: Which behaviors are you talking about?
Tom: Well, here you are, a conservative Republican from Louisiana who espouses family values, traditional marriage and rock-solid American virtues. You’re a pillar of the Southern Baptist church, and a staunch critic of what it considers immoral behavior. And yet, after less than six months serving in the House of Representatives in Washington DC, you’ve managed to get caught wallowing in hypocrisy, being seen by everyone who cares to look performing in a video where you make out with another man’s wife whom you are rewarding for… ahem… cleaning your headquarters. Sir, do you realize that it took Congressman Wilbur Mills thirty-five years to end up getting caught wallowing in hypocrisy by wallowing in the Tidal Basin with a stripper? I dare say, Representative McAllister, that it appears you have set some sort of record, possibly worthy of mention in Guinness, right up there with the fastest time to explode three hot water bottles by nose inflation or the most garters removed from womens’ thighs in one minute by a man using only his teeth. And the repercussions, as we both know, sir, have been dire, to say the least. Governor Jindal and the head of the Louisiana Republican Party have made outright calls for your resignation, and Speaker of the House John Boehner has told the press that you have “some decisions to make,” which is basically Washington dialect for the same thing.
McAllister: Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m calling you. I don’t want to resign.
Tom: Why not?
McAllister: Because…. because… well… I guess being a big shot businessman in Louisiana with a wife and five kids is okay and all, but lightning strike me with the Wrath of Jesus if it can compare to the kind of… um… attention I get being a member of Congress.
Tom: So Mrs. McAllister doesn’t… clean your headquarters… like Mrs. Peacock does, and you figure that’s because, to paraphrase Henry Kissinger, power is the most potent… ahem... motivator for headquarters cleaning?
McAllister: I’d prefer not to answer that.
Tom: Understood.
McAllister: So what can I do to keep my job?
Tom: That may not be possible.
McAllister: It has to be! After coming to Washington and experiencing what it’s like to be here and be important, there’s no way I could go back to being an ordinary multimillionaire in Louisiana!
Tom: Well, all right, then. I know you’ve already made the most groveling, unctuous, obsequious and contrite apologies imaginable – without, of course, actually mentioning what you were apologizing for.
McAllister: Uh, yeah, I have. Thanks, I guess.
Tom: But now I need to know, can you get your wife to humiliate and debase herself in order to restore your reputation?
McAllister: Ah… um… er… uh… you know… I haven’t… ah… really discussed that with her yet. She’s still pretty steamed up about the whole thing.
Tom: Congressman, let’s face the facts here – the court of public opinion has demonstrated, time and again, that in situations such as these, it is absolutely essential that the Wronged Spouse has to Stand By Her Man. There’s no middle ground here – after all, if she can’t forgive you, then why should anybody else, especially the voters?
McAllister: Something tells me that’s not going to be easy for Kelly.
Tom: No kidding. By the time the next election is over, I’ll bet she is going to wish she’d just gotten down on her hands and knees like Melissa Hixon Peacock did and cleaned your headquarters herself. Because however degrading, humiliating, debasing, disgusting, nauseating and nasty doing that might be, it’s going to be nothing compared to pasting a fake smile on her face, holding your hand and waving to the Great Unwashed, pretending she’s the understanding, forgiving, saintly Southern Baptist conservative Republican wife, so you can win your re-election bid next November and feed your newly found power addiction here in Washington.
McAllister: Oh, my God. Is there, like, some kind of twelve-step program for that kind of addiction?
Tom: Yes, there is – it’s called lobbying. But there’s a catch.
McAllister: What catch?
Tom: In order to get in, you have to be a member of Congress for at least two years.
McAllister: I… uh… I think I need to go… pray… now.
Tom: And may God have mercy upon you, Representative McAllister.
McAllister: Uh, yeah. Thanks. Goodbye.