It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.
Please white-list or disable AboveTopSecret.com in your ad-blocking tool.
Thank you.
Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.
“I think the American people should know that the members of Congress are underpaid. I understand that it’s widely felt that they underperform, but the fact is that this is the board of directors for the largest economic entity in the world.”
beezzer
reply to post by guohua
When he said. . .
“I think the American people should know that the members of Congress are underpaid. I understand that it’s widely felt that they underperform, but the fact is that this is the board of directors for the largest economic entity in the world.”
I choked back the vomit.
So we went from public servants to board of directors?
What's the politically correct way to say, "Shut the hell up, b!tch".
beezzer
What's the politically correct way to say, "Shut the hell up, b!tch".
beezzer
reply to post by guohua
When he said. . .
“I think the American people should know that the members of Congress are underpaid. I understand that it’s widely felt that they underperform, but the fact is that this is the board of directors for the largest economic entity in the world.”
I choked back the vomit.
So we went from public servants to board of directors?
What's the politically correct way to say, "Shut the hell up, b!tch".
At 9 a.m. Friday, newly elected House members will crowd into a committee room in the Rayburn House Office Building and draw numbered metal disks out of a box. The number determines their draft order: Those who get good numbers often celebrate aloud.
Those who don't get good numbers know where they're going - the small, lonely offices near Jordan's on the top floor of the Cannon Building. These grim spaces just lost one of their few perks this year when officials advised Rep. Louie Gohmert (R-Tex.) that he couldn't barbeque ribs on the balcony.
"Fifth floor of Cannon, here I come," the lottery's losers often say.
Next, it's time for one of the touchier parts of this process: interior design.
In the House, members can paint their private office - the inner sanctum within their suite - any color they want, as long as they buy the paint. But, in the rest of their suite, they have very limited and very bland options.
"Two buffs. A yellow. A blue-ish. And two grays," said Stephen T. Ayers, the current architect of the Capitol, laying out the paint swatches on a table. The choices are limited for reasons of efficiency, the argument goes. Without the restriction, the Capitol might end up stocking 14 different shades of fuchsia at taxpayer expense (Ayers wouldn't say how much this whole process of moving and painting offices costs).
This, House employees say, is where some new members are surprised by their lack of choice.
"Well, how do I work around that?" one remembered a past freshman legislator saying. The reply is polite but firm: You can't work around that. "The rules of the House," officials intone.
House employees recalled that some daring legislators have still disobeyed: In one notorious suite, every room was done in a different neon color. "You didn't need to turn on the lights," the paint was so bright, another employee recalled.
"I want the first floor near the door to the Capitol," said Frederica Wilson, a newly elected Democrat from Florida known for her eye-catching hats. As for paint colors: "I want an African theme," Wilson said.
Billy Long, a newly elected Republican from Missouri, had a common response: It really doesn't matter that much. "They can give me a broom closet," Long said. "And I'll make it work."
The rest are assigned by seniority: When somebody loses, dies or retires, his or her suite is offered to the most senior members first.
So it was that this year, the prized 1,800-square-foot suite of Rep. David Obey (D-Wis.) - leaving after 21 terms in office - was claimed by Rep. Don Young (R-Alaska), who has been in Congress for 19 terms. Young actually needs more space: Among his worldly possessions, a grizzly bear rug and a totem pole in his current office.
The one he's leaving is itself coveted. Young's old office - the swanky Rayburn 2111 - was then put on the block for a slightly less senior member to claim, and so on. For incumbents, the process works like the NFL draft: Officials put 20 minutes on the clock for lawmakers to decide
The lousiest hideaways are in the Capitol's basement - windowless lairs with just enough room for a desk, a couch and a fridge. But any private haven is still desired: In a Congress increasingly stripped of both coziness and sanctuary, the hideaways are a surviving symbol of both.