High school on Capitol Hill or the comeuppance of Paul Ryan
Having served a term in the United States Congress, I’m frequently asked questions like: what was it really like? Or what was the coolest thing you got to do? Or what was your toughest vote? One question I’ve never been asked is: What was the funniest thing you ever saw?
This may come as a surprise but serving in congress, especially as a newly elected congressman is a whole lot like going to high school. That’s probably why first-term congressmen are called “freshmen”. Going back to high school as a sixty-three-year-old, who just came off a five-year tour as a Major General commanding the thirteen-thousand soldiers and airmen of the Illinois National Guard, is a bit of a shock, but as the old Army saying goes, “adapt and overcome”.
I went to a small-town Illinois high school with just over four hundred students. There are 435 voting members of the House of Representatives, so it was about the same size. In high school we had the popular kids, the jocks, the cheerleaders and the quiet studious honor roll kids. Freshmen were largely non-entities. Seniors generally ran the show. See where I’m heading with this? It’s not a whole lot different in Congress, except you have political parties dividing up the classifications above.
There are other strata in Congress too. Like committee chairs, and ranking members- a ranking member is the senior person on a committee whose party is not in the majority, and then you’ve got the folks who are appropriators, that is they get to say what money gets spent on what items versus those who aren’t appropriators, but rather authorizers. Way too complicated right? Suffice it to say the appropriators generally think their job is far more important.
Then you have the folks who view Congress as a mere stepping stone to a higher national-level post. They’re referred to as “show horses”, not to be confused with the “work horses” who don’t harbor visions of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in their daydreams, but rather are content to endeavor to bring home the bacon to their district. That’s a good thing for their districts, but the media in other districts typically call that “pork barrel” politics. “I’ll help you get your new bridge, if you help me keep my military base.” It seems that’s only a bad thing if your district doesn’t get either.
At any rate there’s a lot of big egos running around that high school on the hill. Every now and then one of those egos takes a deflating. Just like in high school when one of the big-shot seniors gets their comeuppance freshmen find it highly amusing.
Just before votes begin to take place a couple of the elevators in the banks of Congressional office building elevators have flashing signs that light up saying “Congressmen Only”. This is a courtesy to get Congressmen to the House floor quickly so they can cast their votes on legislation. Once the votes are completed, the lights are turned off and anyone can ride the elevator.
During the summer the halls of Congress are thronged with tourists, students and hometown constituents visiting their representative. Shortly after a vote I boarded one of those elevators in the basement to travel to my seventh-floor office. Stopping at the first floor, former Republican vice-presidential candidate and Congressman Paul Ryan, aka a senior big shot, boarded the elevator with several of his staff. Ignoring me they began chatting about some important issue. Before the door could close a late forties woman, clearly a tourist, boarded the elevator.
Glancing around she spied Ryan and said all in one rush of words, “You look familiar! Are you a Congressman? Are you my Congressman?”
Ryan, obviously pleased at being recognized, said, “Yes, I’m a Congressman. I don’t know if I’m your Congressman. Where are you from?”
“Arizona,” she replied.
“I’m from Wisconsin. I’m not your congressman,” he replied.
“Why do you look so familiar?” came her logical response.
In an annoyed tone, he said, “I’m Paul Ryan, I ran for vice-president last year, that’s probably why you recognize me.”
“Oh.” Clearly disappointed that he wasn’t her congressman the woman turned to push the elevator button.
In its losing 2012 effort, the Republican party spent $1.2 billion in the promoting Mitt Romney for president and Paul Ryan for vice-president. It wasn’t enough to get Ryan recognized six months later in a Capitol Hill elevator by an Arizona voter.
Ok, I admit it’s high schoolish, but I smiled as a clearly irritated Ryan stepped off the elevator surrounded by his staff.
(c) William L. Enyart 2021
www.billenyart.com
Email: bill@billenyart.com