SOTU was so too much an experience for the eye

By Larry Dreiling

Anyone who has known me in my nearly 30 years of reporting for a living knows I'm a pretty jaded character when it comes to politics.

I've been proud to stare down presidential candidates, been happy to remind senators just who they work for, rejoiced in kicking around a few congressmen and women and, of overall, trying to influence policy through various personal columns and editorials.

Through the years, I've also been proud to say I've made friends with a lot of the people I've reported on. Reporting is a lot like sports. There's respect, competition and even camaraderie with the opponent, but when the ump yells, "Play ball," or the whistle blows to begin play all friendship ends and, as the old rasslin' announcer Jim Ross might say, you start to "slobberknock" each other.

One of my best buds in the business of politics is Jerry Moran. We both sometimes admit it, we're friends. As a friend, you find yourselves doing kindnesses to each other most people wouldn't ever expect you do for each other.

Our friendship goes back to when I was a goofy freshman and he was a graduate student at Fort Hays State University. Jerry was working in a bank in Stockton, Kan., commuting back and forth to work on an MBA while trying to get into law school.

We were both active in political organizations at the time. I was treasurer of the local county Young Democrats. He was leader of the Young Republicans and a Reagan delegate to the 1976 Republican Convention, which, ironically, picked Bob Dole as running mate to Gerald Ford.

I chose reporting on politics while Jerry went onto a political track, from the city library board to the Kansas Senate and finally to Congress. Over the years, while there have been times we've disagreed on things, we've never disagreed on how great this country is and in particular, the pride we feel in serving the mostly rural people of our constituencies, even though we serve in different ways.

At Christmastime, I went to cover Moran's local stop on his now 69-county listening tour. I had discovered a couple of weeks earlier I was going to be in Washington for the joint board meeting of the National Association of wheat Growers and U.S. wheat Associates and that the meeting would coincide with President Bush's State of the Union address (better known in Washington parlance as the "SOTU").

It was at that listening stop that I asked my old friend a favor: Is there any way I can get a ticket to see the address?

"I'm allowed one ticket," Moran said. "It's actually a spouse's ticket, but since Robba never goes (His wife, herself an attorney who once taught business law at FHSU, remains in Hays with their one daughter still at home and works as the piano accompanist for the Hays High School choirs.) and you're the first to ask for the ticket, it's yours."

The week before the speech, Moran's scheduler, Crystal Emel, calls me for information needed for Secret Service clearance to the event. Once I arrive in Washington, I had to go to Moran's office late in the day before the speech to pick up my ticket to the event--an ornate item complete with a hologram to fend off counterfeiting.

Getting my way into the Capitol the night of speech is a laborious affair. I needed to arrive by taxi before Independence Ave. was closed at 7 p.m. I passed through the standard metal detector at the entrance to the Rayburn House Office Building.

After cooling my heels in the lobby for several minutes, I made my way down to the sub-basement and the entrance to the subway connecting the Rayburn and the Capitol. I had to check in at a reception desk with my ticket and drivers license then move to another security checkpoint at the subway where I showed those same two items before boarding.

Still nearly an hour from the beginning of the speech, I made may way to the ornate first floor of the Capitol where I could peer into the offices of the House leadership where various receptions were going on.

I couldn't look too much, because the place was like a SWAT team convention in there. Capitol Police, joined by Army bomb detection units; Marines, Secret Service, Supreme Court Protection Service were there, too.

And the dogs--everywhere there were dogs. German Shepherd riot dogs, bomb sniffing Springer Spaniels and even members of the U.S. Department of Agriculture Beagle Brigade were there to check for biological weapons.

After some time, I took the elevator to the third floor and the House Visitor's Gallery, where I led through the outside corridor, told to drop off my cell phone at a check desk, and sent to the proper door to enter the gallery, but not before proceeding through a third metal detector.

Taking my seat, I found Moran in his perch as an "Ironpant." The term apparently comes from an old Hill reporter. House members have no assigned seats in the chamber. Seats on the center aisle are coveted for presidential addresses because then the member can be seen on TV shaking hands with the president as he walks toward the rostrum.

To gain one of those seats, members have to arrive early and stay until the end of the speech--without even a bathroom break. To leave means losing the cherished photo op. It was now a little after 8 p.m. Moran had been in that seat since slightly before 2 p.m. Hence the term "Ironpant."

My seatmates arrived right behind me. To my left was the deputy press secretary of a Republican member from Texas. To my right was a lobbyist from a union who gained his seat from a Democrat from Ohio.

A Congressional spouse did show up and passed by our seats. She was quite young it seemed and dressed head to toe in designer labels. She looked like something off of a fashion magazine. The lobbyist told me she was the second wife of a much older Republican member of the House. "So much for family values," he muttered.

All around us were men in uniform, some healthy, some bearing scars of war, from missing limbs to shattered skulls. All were glad to be home. We told all we were glad they were home and proud and thankful of their service.

Then the members of the House who didn't want to be on camera began to trickle in. A couple of the women were dressed in garish red, white and blue outfits--again no doubt to attract the cameras.

I was seated on the side with Democrats, so I didn't see too many local faces with my aging eyes and no binoculars. A few faces were familiar from TV: Charlie Rangel, Carolyn Maloney and more svelte Jerrold Nadler from New York all stood out. The only High Plains face I could recognize was Stephanie Herseth from South Dakota.

Vice president Cheney and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi entered separately. Pelosi took her place to a standing ovation.

Then entered the political superstars: the Senate. Watching who sat by who was a fascinating game of political chess. Presidential wannabes from then and now were everywhere as Hagel sat next to Brownback. Kennedy sat next to Obama who sat in front of Hillary Clinton. Kerry, Biden and Dodd could be seen along with McCain and a likely running mate Lindsey Graham of South Carolina.

Next came the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Supreme Court and then, the Cabinet, without Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, who remained at the White House in case disaster struck and the government was lost in a Capitol cataclysm.

Finally, those words:

"Madam Speaker, the President of the United States."

The usual number of standing ovations followed by a nice salute to Pelosi began the president's address. As a speech per se, I found it nowhere near the oratory of Kennedy's, "Ask not what your country can do for you" address ghostwritten by Ted Sorenson or Reagan's, "Boys of Point Du Hoc" speech ghostwritten by Peggy Noonan.

But, let's face it, the country is divided over Iraq, the president didn't want to talk about it that much and so he decided to emphasize his domestic agenda. That kind of speech doesn't often make for soaring rhetoric.

Probably the biggest surprise in the laundry list of a speech was one that would delight people in agriculture as the president called for a five-fold increase in the Renewable Fuels Standard that requires that a portion of the nation's energy source come from renewable resources such as ethanol and biodiesel.

The current RFS requires that 7.5 billion gallons by 2012. In his speech, he called for a 35-billion gallon RFS by 2017.

"We need to press on with battery research for plug-in and hybrid vehicles, and expand the use of clean diesel vehicles and biodiesel fuel," Bush said to applause. "We must continue investing in new methods of producing ethanol--using everything from wood chips to grasses, to agricultural wastes."

Through the cheers my Texas seatmate said, "That ought to make your guys in Kansas happy."

The other surprise was Bush's announcement of a Civilian Reserve Corps to assist the military. "Sounds like Halliburton's been given permanent status," my union seatmate whispered.

The speech ended in just under an hour. We all remained in our seats until the president left the building. Many members rushed up to visit their friends in the gallery and to even give them a ride home.

I was left to fend for myself. I think Jerry needed to make a stop somewhere, if you get my drift.

Getting back to the hotel, many NAWG and USWA members remarked how they had seen both Jerry and I on TV and were jealous.

"How'd you get a deal like this," they all asked.

"Have a friend of nearly 30 years who makes his way to Congress and you can too."

The take-home part of the whole evening is that for all the bloviating we see members of Congress and their surrogates perform on the endless TV news cycle, these are, for the most part, people who disagree, even to the point of not talking to each other anymore. Still this is a great country and the people who serve are, for the most part, just doing their best to get along in a big whirlwind in Washington and trying to do some good at the same time.

By the way, thanks Jerry. Just remember, this doesn't mean you'll always get favorable treatment from now on. Keep on doing the right thing and you'll be fine.

Larry Dreiling can be reached by phone at 785-628-1117 or e-mail at ldreiling@aol.com.

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2/5/07

6 Star Midwest Ag

Date: 1/31/07

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