The goodies that make government great

From F-16 joyrides to special passes for art exhibits, goodies make life in Washington a bit more splendiferous.

They're known as "benefits," "goodies," and "gratuities"-or in the common-speak of Washington, "perks." They're the little gifts that keep on giving throughout the year by adding a patina of exclusivity to life in the capital for those who serve the taxpayers from the halls of Congress or from the executive branch, for those who seek to influence the influential, and for those who tattle to the populace about what Washington has been up to. From cushy quarters to curbside parking rights, from F-16 joyrides to nautical trysts, the extras are bestowed on some of Washington's more-ordinary folk by virtue of their positions in a town whose currency is power and information, rather than wealth. It's not just what money can buy-but what Washington's version of status accords for free. Granted, the city's meager employee benefits pale in comparison with some of the munificence offered by top-flight corporations (prepaid legal services, for example), but what the capital's perks usually have going for them is the often-temporary splendor of life as an elite.

To government watchdogs, Washington's proclivities toward taxpayer rip-offs and out-and-out scamming are as rampant as ever, despite the unblinking eyes of Ralph Nader, Common Cause, the Office of Government Ethics, and federally appointed independent investigators. In 1991 and 1992, after House lawmakers bounced a few too many checks in their private bank, the media warmed to exposés about taxpayer-funded benefits enjoyed by members and executive branch officials. What followed was a flurry of conscience and perk-pruning "reforms," such as tighter controls on authorized government travel, the elimination of free prescription drugs for members of Congress, and Senate restrictions on the conversion of frequent flier miles to personal use.

To some observers, however, the episodic crackdowns on Washington's minor favors have only served to dull the public's senses to major forms of largesse that have proved persistent-sweetheart stock deals, campaign finance bribery, the revolving door. "It's worse now," declared one gloomy Washington investigator, who preferred to remain nameless. "I think there's so much of it that the public is numb."

Even members of the media-who pride themselves on exposing waste, fraud, abuse, and hypocrisy wherever they occur-are not immune to the perks that accompany their status as VIPs, improve their access to newsmakers, and enrich their otherwise two-dimensional worlds. Thus, the scribes who skewer the President in print one day (National Journal included) barely blink the next, when given the chance to attend White House press corps fetes with entertainment and jumbo shrimp courtesy of the Democratic National Committee.

Free press parking on Capitol Hill? Well, sure, that's OK because congressional reporters have to work irregular hours. Gratis attendance at $150-a-plate soirees and head-of-the-line treatment at gallery openings and movie previews? No problem. It's research for an article. Hospitality gifts from foreign governments or chambers of commerce? It's just part of blending in when hard-working media tag along with peripatetic Presidents, lawmakers, and dignitaries. Most members of the Fourth Estate pride themselves on their incorruptibility, but in Washington, the impression prevails among officialdom that a flattered, pampered, or well-fed reporter is better disposed to be "fair." "We always operated under the theory that a happy press corps was less likely to write a critical story about a [presidential] trip than an unhappy one," said Billy Dale, the director of the White House travel office from 1982-93.

Why do companies such as Bell South compete for the privilege of providing free food and telephones to busy reporters at the national political conventions every four years? "It's very useful for us to have our name ingrained in the brains of political reporters, since political reporters don't cover much telecom stuff," explained Bill McCloskey, Bell South's director of media relations. "When they're covering something about telephones, we want them to think of us and call us for information. The stories are better written when they have information from all sides." Innocuous perk or insidious brainwashing? Reporters unhesitatingly graze at these banquets without a lick of guilt.

Are members of Congress under the spell of "special interests" if they attend sporting events, such as the Super Bowl, or conferences in sun-kissed climes and don't pay their full freight? Is it work, or something else? Let's face it-an exterminator from Texas or a former wrestler from Illinois wouldn't be on everyone's must-invite list if he did not hold the GOP reins in Congress. From their home on the Hill, the people's representatives view the trappings of power every day. Pretty soon, the Honorable Gentleman from the rural Midwest is too busy to drive himself across town or park in a public lot or drop off his own dry cleaning. Next thing you know, one office suite on Capitol Hill isn't enough. If you're a Senator, you need a private sanctuary-also paid for by the taxpayers-a few convenient and timesaving steps away from the Senate floor action.

If you work for the leader of the free world, the reflected power is the biggest perk of all. Who doesn't sit up straighter when a voice on the other end of the line says that someone from the White House is calling? Traffic halts for a President's motorcade, and airports around the world make way for Air Force One. And everyone working for the President (or covering him) gets to bask in the spillover spotlight. Joshua A. King, who spent five years directing events for President Clinton, managed to see 40 countries and 48 states (North Dakota and Mississippi were the ones he didn't get to) during his White House career.

He recalled "the power and the symbolism" when the President's airplane pulled up on the tarmac somewhere in the world and television cameras went live. King said he never became jaded in the President's orbit, but conceded that he faced a bit of an adjustment when he left the White House and again became a mere mortal among the traveling masses: "It was a nice reminder that you were a regular person, just a person who checks their own bags."

Even Leon E. Panetta-a House Budget Committee chairman before becoming Clinton's budget director and then chief of staff-remembers a few benefits to being a presidential sidekick in Washington, now that he has returned to civilian life in Carmel Valley, Calif. "There are some perks associated with that office," he confided to a Heritage Foundation audience last month on a return visit to the capital. "Probably the ones I miss the most are the ability . . . to drive through traffic without having to worry about other cars and the ability to not have to worry about your luggage or a seat on the plane."

If you're a Cabinet-level officer at the White House, such as chief of staff, you're entitled to a car and driver, inside information, and all the midnight SOS calls you'd ever want. If you're somewhat lower in the White House food chain, you still might be able to hitch a ride on Air Force One, dine with VIPs in the White House mess, lob a few balls on the President's tennis court, or even shoot some hoops on his half-court. And few White House staffers leave their jobs without a memorable photo or two, sometimes personally signed by the President, capturing some impressive, historic, or humorous moment in service to the POTUS. Plus, staffers who've been around the Clinton White House for a while enjoy ready access to picturesque, taxpayer-funded vacation accommodations when they visit former colleagues who are now, oh-so-usefully, U.S. ambassadors and top embassy officials.

And let's not forget the other places in which Washington's little benefits are on view. The Interior Secretary and his staff have to sightsee in the national parks in service to the United States. State Department officials and the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations have the run of a swank and secure suite at New York's Waldorf-Astoria hotel, thanks to the taxpayers. And Washington's federal glitterati-from the President and Vice President to the Cabinet and the Supreme Court-never have to worry about how to gussy up a bare wall, thanks to the National Gallery of Art's national lending service. About 82 works in the gallery's collection are on loan to officials savvy enough to use a program that lets them enjoy beautiful and valuable paintings and a few sculptures as if they were their own.

For the Vice President's residence, the Gores selected a peaceful painting of a seated woman titled "Memories" by the American painter Frederick Carl Frieseke. Supreme Court Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, enjoying (at last count) at least half a dozen paintings in his Court office, has also made good use of the service. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg is apparently partial to modern art. And former Treasury Secretary Robert E. Rubin relied on his wife to help select the borrowed works he hung in his office and conference rooms before leaving the Administration this year. (Not coincidentally, the Secretaries of State and Treasury and the Chief Justice are always ex officio members of the gallery's trustee board.) Of course, all those paintings escaped the museum's private storage rooms. Their emergence in the corridors of power thus benefits an appreciative, albeit limited, viewing public beyond the government's top movers and shakers.

"In the government, every space is a public space," observed Randall E. Kremer, a spokesman for the Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History, which loaned dinosaur enthusiast Newt Gingrich a cast of a Tyrannosaurus rex skull for his office when he was Speaker of the House. "So, if you [are a museum] with a picture in a constituent's office and some man or woman earning less than $135,000 a year, who works 16-hour days and eats bad food, can enjoy a Manet on the wall, that's neat."

Here's a look at 11 of Washington's myriad perks:

Thrill Rides and Plastic Bags

Ever wanted to fly a fighter jet? Not just fly in it, mind you, but actually fly it, if for only a few minutes under a trained pilot's watchful eye-and with him urging you to top-gun it a little. "I'll show 'em a roll, and then they'll roll the airplane [themselves]," said Col. Duane Lodridge, an F-16 pilot in the D.C. Air National Guard who has taken "more than a hundred people"-from quarterbacks to politicians-on such flights. "Most people, they roll it a lot slower than the airplane can actually do," said Lodridge, so he tells them: " 'Roll it faster!' "

A day in the armed forces is no picnic-in fact, civilians about to take their first fighter-jet flight are cautioned to eat lightly, if at all. But for many government civilians, such "out-of-uniform" experiences are the ultimate break in the office routine. For the military, such demonstrations are serious business: With the number of veterans in Congress at a record low and dropping, lawmakers and staff working on critical defense issues need all the hands-on experience they can get. "We work with these programs day in and day out; you read all the paper, [but] it's kind of distant," said John Etherton, who recently left the staff of the Senate Armed Services Committee. "It's pretty exciting to see this stuff actually exists."

Just don't expect a junket. Be prepared for military schedules, military quarters, military rations, and-depending on the service being visited-seasickness, airsickness, or mud. During one recent National Guard exercise at the Joint Readiness Training Center at Fort Polk, La., Senate Veterans' Affairs Committee member Daniel K. Akaka, D-Hawaii, and House Armed Services member Robert Underwood, D-Guam, got to savor a 15-minute lunch of prepackaged Meals Ready to Eat while standing in the rain. They also got grandstand seats at a simulated battle, where their home-state soldiers were the good guys. "The troops loved them; they were screaming and yelling," recalled Nicholas Minella, an Underwood aide.

Some thrills are more visceral. "Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine driving an M-1 tank around a test track, but there I was," said Joel Starr, a military legislative assistant to Rep. Tom Campbell, R-Calif. "It was like riding a motorcycle because all of the steering and acceleration controls were on a lever that looks like a motorcycle handlebar." The tank's controls made the 70-ton metal monster "extremely easy to drive"-although Starr admits that his driving was "pretty tentative."

There's nothing tentative about a military aircraft, even the workhorse Navy planes that ferry visiting staff out to aircraft carriers. "You sit backwards [and] there's no windows," said Steve Stombres, a military legislative assistant to House Military Readiness Subcommittee Chairman Herbert H. Bateman, R-Va. "They do this real steep turn and then you come to an extremely quick stop. It's great. Better than a roller coaster."

The most intense thrill rides, of course, are on the fighters. "They give you about four hours of training, where they train you how to survive if there's a crash, how to eject out of the ejector seat, [but] I couldn't remember one thing about it by the time I got on the plane," said a former government official. During the actual high-G maneuvers themselves, "I sort of semi-passed out." Finally, "I had to pull the plastic bag out of my flight suit and throw up. . . . Ever since, my stomach has reacted badly to turbulence on an airplane." So was the experience worth it? The answer comes at once: "Absolutely." -Sydney J. Freedberg Jr.

A Borrowed Box

They're not even the best seats in the house. But they're the ones with the most cachet, and they're free, so White House staff members, Cabinet members, and executive branch officials and their guests frequently fill the President's boxes in the Kennedy Center's three theaters throughout the year. It's a benefit handed out largely on a first-come, first-served basis at the White House, no matter where a perk-savvy staff member stands in the pecking order.

For the modestly paid, often overworked White House staffer, taking friends or visiting family to hear music or see a play in the exclusive surroundings reserved for the President can offset some of the less-glamorous aspects of public servitude. "It's one of the few things I can do occasionally for my wife that is very nice," said Christopher C. Jennings, a deputy assistant to the President for health policy. Officials and staffers have used the box seats to soothe neglected spouses, and even to woo sweethearts. Several Clinton aides in the past year or so have taken advantage of the red-velvet setting to get down on one knee and propose. The staffer who explains to June Gayle Turner-the dispenser of the Kennedy Center tickets on behalf of the first family-that he needs tickets to help land a fiancee is certain to get them.

The tickets-for 12 seats in one theater and eight each in the other two-by and large have to be requested, which requires executive branch officials to know what's playing at the Kennedy Center and when. Lower-ranking staffers who seek tickets can be bumped by the Vice President, Cabinet members, and other big fish, but White House aides said that Turner tries to spread the perquisite around.

Turner's predecessor as West Wing receptionist, Debi Schiff, said that the box seats during her tenure were viewed as "under the President's discretion, basically." Schiff, who now handles protocol for the State Department, said that the President sought to share tickets with "Cabinet-level [officials]-anybody who he felt wanted to go, and if it was available, his family and friends. It was just a nice perk."

Part of what wows folks about using the box is the whiff of power and privilege that dresses up the entertainment. Each box adjoins a private lounge area, complete with comfortable furnishings, restrooms, glossy blowup photos of the Clintons, and refrigerators full of mini-bottles of champagne and refreshments adorned with the presidential seal. The important-looking M&Ms and bubbly are not supposed to leave the box, however. Snapshots, and the occasional engagement ring, are the sanctioned souvenirs. -Alexis Simendinger

Romance at Sea Sure, there are plenty of opportunities for foreign travel for members of Congress and their staffs. African safaris, Holy Land sojourns, Asian junkets, Pacific island hopping, Amazonian forays. But what's available stateside?

Consider the "Love Boat." Every August, the Coast Guard hosts a five-day trip in Alaska to show the handful of Capitol Hill staffers who work on Coast Guard issues how the Guard is undertaking its various missions.

To be sure, portions of the trip are positively Dickensian; days begin at 7:30 a.m. and include mandatory visits to sea-rescue training exercises and fog-shrouded ocean buoys. "It's not fun when you're in a survival suit and it's raining," said Janet L. Powell, a lobbyist who went on the Alaska trip while working as a congressional aide.

Still, the travelers' exposure to gorgeous scenery and the occasional fishing side trip have turned the Alaska getaway into a hot ticket. (The "Love Boat" nickname came about because at least two marriages have resulted from past voyages.) "It's awesome," said one lobbyist who took the trip several years ago. "Most of it is educational, but they did get us out to a salmon run. You get a license-something like $4 for the day-and they take you out to a local stream. It's just a blast-like shooting fish in a barrel. Another day they took us out to a glacier."

Typically, a half-dozen Hill aides are flown to Alaska in the Coast Guard commandant's jet. The Guard's travel budget covers meals, lodging, and local transportation-about $1,000 per person. "Our readiness is very much impacted by how well congressional staffers understand what we do," said Caroline Cihelka, a Coast Guard spokeswoman.

For those not predisposed to Alaska, the Coast Guard typically offers four or five other adventures every year. One frequent trip swings through the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, and Florida to educate staffers about drug interdiction and immigration. Other excursions are somewhat less desirable. "I went down to Louisiana to look at their commercial fishing inspection operation," said one congressional aide. "I would not consider standing in the swamps of Louisiana to be a perk at all." -Louis Jacobson

Media Moochers

There's no denying it: Washington reporters get pampered. There's the obvious stuff-the 40 choice free parking spaces reserved for reporters at the Capitol; the baskets of goodies that countries shower on reporters when they travel with the President; the avoid-the-hassle privileges that reporters with White House credentials can invoke so their guests go to the front of the White House tour line.

Then there's the more subtle wooing of the press that goes on-the constant feting of the media in some not-very-undisguised efforts to cultivate goodwill with reporters. The White House has long hosted a party in the summer and one in December for the White House press corps; and after the 1992 election, Vice President Al Gore and his wife instituted an annual Halloween costume party solely for members of the media and their families.

"The idea is to make a reporter feel respected, that they get a sense they're being catered to," explains James Fallows, a writer for The New Yorker magazine who has long been a staunch critic of the media's excesses. "It's more of a social status. Washington is probably the only place on earth where reporters can think of themselves as being in the first tier of society."

This situation plays out in a number of ways. For example, the media elite are frequently part of the select few given the opportunity to enjoy the city's cultural amenities before they are open to the masses. At last year's blockbuster van Gogh exhibit at the National Gallery of Art, many members of the press didn't have to wait hours in line to get in or to elbow their way through the hordes during museum hours. Instead, the gallery arranged several private viewings, after hours, for the press. Reporters, editors, and executives of The Washington Post-and their guests-were treated to two special tours of the exhibit, said Deborah Ziska, a gallery spokeswoman. The Washington bureaus of The New York Times, the Associated Press, and Knight Ridder also enjoyed after-hours viewings. National Public Radio sought its own slot. The gallery made similar arrangements for the press during the Vermeer exhibit in 1995.

In addition, the museum accommodated members of the press with special courtesy passes, which allowed them immediate entry during regular hours and, thus, to avoid long lines and inclement weather. Indeed, for the van Gogh exhibit, the sense of entitlement within the press reached such a crescendo that the gallery's communications office had to hire a temp just to handle the special requests from the media.

Advance screenings of Hollywood movies also reinforce the elevated status of the media. When Disney sponsored a gala reception for, and a sneak preview of, the Al Pacino thriller The Insider at Washington's Uptown Theater, "half the audience was the press," said White House Press Secretary Joe Lockhart.

Members of Washington's media elite are often on the short list for dinners and exclusive previews of new movies, which are hosted by superlobbyist Jack Valenti at the Motion Picture Association of America's 70-seat, state-of-the-art private theater a block from the White House. Just last week, Valenti hosted members of the press and others for Denzel Washington's new movie, The Hurricane. The only downside? No popcorn is allowed. -David Byrd

Planes (No Trains) and Automobiles

It's not as visible as it used to be, but it's still there-the free parking lot at Washington's National Airport that's reserved for members of Congress, diplomats, and Supreme Court Justices. The 90 spaces are nestled under the Metro tracks, right in front of the terminal, not far from the $12- and $28-a-day garages for the public.

"It's a precious thing," said Guy Vander Jagt, a former Republican Representative from Michigan who now works as a lawyer at Baker & Hostetler in Washington. Vander Jagt allows that he still takes advantage of the perk-with the help of a friendly guard who recognizes him. He says he slips into the lot when few people are using it. Besides the spots at National, there are an additional 60 spaces reserved at Dulles International Airport.

Tara Hamilton, a spokeswoman at the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority, which manages National and Dulles, says that this perk exists as a courtesy to members who constantly shuttle between Washington and their home districts. "They are here doing the nation's business and the business of their constituents back home." For his part, Vander Jagt calls the free parking practical: "It would cost the taxpayer a heck of a lot more to taxi [members] around." Diplomats receive this free parking as a courtesy to their countries, Hamilton says.

In 1994, an anti-perk crusader-Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz.-offered an amendment to end the free parking. He called the benefit a clear example of how "out of touch" Congress is with most Americans. The amendment was defeated, 44-53. -Mark Murray

Homework Helper

When young staffers and interns arrive on Capitol Hill, they often get the lecture: Don't use the Congressional Research Service for nonofficial business. But it happens. "It's awfully easy for staff people to pick up the phone and ask for things," said Roger Davidson, a former CRS analyst who is now a visiting political science professor at the University of California (Santa Barbara).

Take the case of one former House staffer who, for obvious reasons, doesn't want his name revealed. Scrambling to finish a paper on wetlands policy for a graduate course at Georgetown University, he walked into the CRS and placed a research request. He had artfully coupled work duties and a paper topic. Within a week, he had a stack of reports from the Defense Department, the Army Corps of Engineers, and the General Accounting Office.

"It is a good perk for students to use. You can save time in gathering the info. They just have everything at their fingertips," he said. Later, when another paper came due-this time on electricity deregulation, a topic not on his To Do list at work-he put in another request. Within a week, he had a stack of articles and reports, including several obscure GAO reports dating to the early 1980s, on his desk.

"I didn't feel really guilty about it, I guess," he said. "I don't think the Congressional Research Service is used enough anyway by members of Congress. They're a huge resource. . . . I think staff in general should take more advantage of it."

But not everyone is as bold. Another former Hill staffer recalls contacting CRS for information he needed on trade lobbying for a college course. But he got cold feet when he was quizzed by a CRS analyst about why he wanted the material. "It's so easy to get caught, and then you don't only get caught on a D.C. kind of thing," he said. "You could get kicked out of school."-Siobhan Gorman

A Sweet Suite

Looking for a place to crash in New York City? If you're high enough up on the foreign policy food chain, U.N. Ambassador Richard C. Holbrooke might let you stay at his $30,000-a-month, taxpayer-funded luxury pad in the Waldorf-Astoria hotel's Art Deco Towers-complete with meals and maids. There's plenty of room because he's living at his own Manhattan home. And if you don't snare a key to the castle, you can hope for an invite to one of the dinners staged there to promote top U.N. priorities.

One staffer who recently seized the opportunity was R.P. Eddy, Holbrooke's 20-something executive assistant, who stayed at the suite for a week in September while apartment hunting in New York. He had the full run of the place, which features two bedrooms, a living room with a grand piano, a dining room that can seat 30, a TV room, and a kitchen. Others who can stay there during visits to New York include Secretary of State Madeleine K. Albright, Senators, House members, and senior State Department staff. And they can bring their families.

This fall, Holbrooke used the suite to massage members of Congress concerning the nearly $1 billion in dues the United States owes to the United Nations. There's plenty of media courting, as well. When then-U.N. Ambassador Bill Richardson held a dinner before President Clinton's trip to Africa last year to push the Administration's African development proposal, he invited NBC's Matt Lauer, CBS News President Andrew Heyward, and CBS's Bryant Gumbel. But Holbrooke is trying to play down the celebrity factor. "He's very sensitive to the perception [that he's wasting money]," said Paul Aronsohn, a deputy spokesman for the U.S. Mission to the United Nations, "particularly because he's really tried to save money." -Siobhan Gorman

Rooms With a View

"They've taken away the bottled water," complains a Senate staffer, longing for the good old days. "There aren't a helluva lot of perks left. One of the few ones left is a good hideaway."

Ah, yes, the Senate hideaways. They're part of the lore of Capitol Hill-the mysterious, unmarked rooms in which everything from backroom deals to liaisons of a more personal nature are consummated. They're tucked into every nook of the Senate side of the Capitol, but are not listed on the floor plans of the building. The rooms are doled out on the basis of seniority. And when one becomes available, Senators are often eager to trade up.

More than half of the Senators now have secret offices. Senate Republican leaders have said they want to provide as many members as possible with rooms. "From my experience, Senators are always interested in popping into another Senator's hideaway," one aide said. Another added: "They're aware of when space becomes open."

And what makes for a good hideaway? As they say in the real estate business: location, location, location. In particular, whether a hideaway is close to the Senate floor and has a view of the Mall. "Location and view together is an unbelievable combination," said one staffer.

Some Senators go to great lengths to keep the location of the hideaways secret. Several years ago, then-Sen. Paul Simon, D-Ill., gave Chicago Tribune reporters a tour of his small room, but only after being promised that they would not publish its location. "There are very few staff that can name more than one or two Senators' hideaways," said one Senate aide. "Some proclaim not to even know where their members' hideaway is."

Some hideaways, however, get outed. The Balanced Budget Act of 1997 was largely negotiated in the hideaway of Senate Budget Chairman Pete V. Domenici, R-N.M. The room is in the dingy basement of the Senate side of the Capitol, just across from one of the outposts of the Capitol Police. Dozens of reporters spent days outside the room, as Administration officials and budgeteers laboriously worked toward an agreement. The room had a nice view of the Mall, but Domenici has since traded up to a better room, just seconds from the Senate floor. -David Baumann

In the Line of Fire

The Clinton Administration is none too keen on casual target shooting with Uzis and handguns, unless one happens to be a White House staffer whose duties put him or her in the vicinity of the President in public settings or among his entourage on presidential trips. In that case, one of the coveted field excursions mentioned by White House aides is the Beltsville, Md., training facility of the Secret Service, which provides an opportunity for a little target practice and defensive driving.

The half day of show-and-tell-designed to demonstrate to invited staffers how the Secret Service prepares for safety threats to the President-is described by some who have been through the orientation as a gee-whiz thrill, a chance to play the role of Clint Eastwood or even the President. White House Chief of Staff John D. Podesta, while still a deputy chief of staff, got to spend some time on the firing range during a training session. He was so pleased with the "body" target he aerated (with the help of the Secret Service) that he hung it like artwork in his West Wing office.

To the Secret Service, the orientation for non-law-enforcement types is serious business. Last fall, House lawmakers who have jurisdiction over the Secret Service's annual appropriations had a chance to experience the drill with an Associated Press reporter and photographer in tow. The members watched as agents pursued a mock sniper and protected a presidential limousine against attack. One former White House staff member who was twice invited to Beltsville saw the Secret Service blow up a presidential motorcade and simulate protecting the President and the first lady in a scenario in which a hall goes dark and an assailant tries to use the confusion to get close enough to inject the President with HIV. Agents underscore their message with videotapes of attempts on the lives of former Presidents and other leaders, and explain how presidential staff are expected to cooperate with the Secret Service to minimize risks.

And because they're savvy, the agents know how to bring home their points with experiential learning. "They showed us how they do the driving escape," the former staffer continued. "They stuck us in the cars and went from zero to 60 and then hit the brakes and did a 180. It felt like a roller coaster, literally. It was so much fun, we got back in the cars and said, 'Can we go again?'" -Alexis Simendinger

Engraved in Stone

What's in a name? In the case of federal buildings, it's 1 part ego, 1 part protocol, and a whole lot of politics. Two recent incidents exposed some unwritten rules governing a unique privilege of members of Congress: the power to name federal buildings after prominent Americans-including themselves.

Rep. Lloyd Doggett, D-Texas, groused that Sen. Phil Gramm, R-Texas, improperly snatched the bragging rights for naming the federal building in Austin after retired Rep. J.J. "Jake" Pickle, a Texas Democrat. Doggett complained of "Grammstanding" when the Senate replaced his House-passed bill with Gramm's "copycat" bill to honor Pickle. Gramm fired back: "Doggett's interest apparently is in assuring that his own name is well-publicized."

Then there was the faux pas of a bid by Senate appropriators, backed by Senate leaders, to name a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention building in Atlanta for Sen. Tom Harkin, D-Iowa, and the National Library of Medicine in Bethesda, Md., for Sen. Arlen Specter, R-Pa. Sen. Daniel K. Inouye, D-Hawaii, came up with the idea, which his spokeswoman explained would have paid tribute to "a lot of good things" accomplished by the Appropriations subcommittee led by Specter and Harkin.

But in a procedural blunder, Specter and Harkin introduced Inouye's proposals as "manager's amendments" to the Labor-Health spending bill on Oct. 7, and thus made them appear to be self-promoting. This ruffled the feathers of some House members. And a drafting error made it appear that Harkin was trying to get the entire CDC named for himself, rather than one building. The Senate passed the amendments as printed, but dropped them during negotiations with the House.

The episode brought to light how lawmakers are able to sidestep rules forbidding committees that oversee federal buildings from naming them for a sitting member of Congress.

Those rules do not apply to spending bills, so lawmakers used them as a vehicle to name National Institutes of Health buildings for Sen. Warren G. Magnuson, D-Wash., in 1980; Rep. Claude Pepper, D-Fla., in 1988; and, in a single spending bill, Reps. William H. Natcher, D-Ky., and Silvio Conte, R-Mass., in 1989, while both were still in office, General Services Administration and congressional records show. A spending bill enacted in 1996 named an NIH building for Sen. Mark Hatfield, R-Ore., and another in 1998 renamed a Veterans Affairs facility for Rep. Louis Stokes, D-Ohio. Both were Appropriations panel members who decided not to seek re-election. Records also show that a 1987 spending bill designated the Ernest F. Hollings Judicial Center in the Democratic Senator's hometown of Charleston, S.C.

Rep. Tom Tancredo, R-Colo., is trying to stop the name game by rallying 56 co-sponsors for a bill that would prohibit naming federal property for sitting lawmakers. "Serving as a member of Congress and seeing the positive impact that we have on the lives of our constituents . . . should be honor enough for one's entire life," said Tancredo, a freshman who is still a newcomer to the privileges of Congress. -Richard H.P. Sia

Atlanta-Bound

Keep your eyes open when the television cameras pan the crowd at Super Bowl XXXIV on Jan. 30. You might spot a member of Congress or two. Maybe even a quorum. Dozens of members will attend the National Football League championship game, and chances are that not many of them will have paid for their tickets. Here are some of the ways they score an invite:

Perhaps the most popular method is to let the ever-accommodating party campaign committees foot the bill. In return, lawmakers are expected to schmooze party donors during Super Bowl weekend. More than 20 House Republicans are already scheduled to attend a Super Bowl fund-raiser with about 100 donors that's expected to clear at least $500,000. Several party leaders, including House Speaker J. Dennis Hastert, R-Ill., are very likely to be there.

In addition, 10 to 15 Senate Democrats are expected to fly in a private jet to Atlanta for a weekend of golf, shopping, and receptions with contributors; the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee hopes to raise at least $300,000, said spokesman Dave DiMartino. "People like to go to the Super Bowl," explained a leading Capitol Hill fund-raiser. "It's a perk of being in this business." Party committees typically offer a dollop of legislative and campaign briefings during the big weekend. But just a dollop. "Our intent is to provide a social event," said a Democratic fund-raiser.

Another way for members to see the game is on a corporation's nickel. In many cases, major companies purchase tickets to a swank box and make some of the seats available to lobbyists who, in turn, invite a member.

Some lawmakers get a ticket through the NFL, which has more than passing interest in tax and antitrust matters on Capitol Hill. "We put a very limited number of tickets aside for leaders on both the national and local level," said Joe Browne, the NFL's senior vice president for government affairs. Browne, who refused to be more specific, said that recipients pay the $300 face value for this year's ducat.

Not every member will be in Atlanta, of course. Because Senate Democrats have long featured the Super Bowl on their calendar, "we don't want to compete," said Eric Smith, a spokesman for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. Instead, the House panel has created its niche at such events as the baseball All-Star game and professional golf tournaments.-Richard E. Cohen