Diary of a Congressman.

• Author: Wise, Bob

November 8, 1994, election night. An incredible night. What else is there to say? My wife Sandy, the volunteers, and I huddled around three TV sets in a hotel banquet room. I came out okay - actuary a little better than we expected.

Only morbid curiosity kept us watching the rest of the night. It felt less like an election than a plane crash, with us left looking for the names of friends on the list of passengers. We turned off the light at 3 a.m., but I tossed until six. The ramifications rolled over me. Sandy would likely lose her job as Ways and Means staff director. I will lose my subcommittee chairmanship. Even the doorkeepers owed their jobs to patronage. The life I've known for 12 years disappeared in three hours.

November 14. My first day back on the Hill. Walking down the tomblike Rayburn Office Building corridor, I could almost hear the medieval cry, "Bring out your dead, bring out your dead." Even a week later, Democratic staffers are looking dazed.

November 21. We've been having strategy meetings in the Hay-Adams Hotel. There is general agreement on three bills to push. First, a constitutional amendment overriding the Buckley v. Valeo case, which said campaign spending is tantamount to free speech and can't be limited. Second is some sort of middle-income tax out. Third is another in-your-face, we'll-go-one-better amendment with lobby reform rules. The hope is the Republicans will vote "no," giving us the chance to fire press releases off to the new members' districts charging their first vote was against curbing lobbyists. Welcome to Washington, Mr. Smith.

December 7. An eventful week. Elected Gephardt (who delivered a passionate speech, then retreated to Bethesda Hospital for gall bladder surgery) to minority leader, Bonior, Fazio, and Kennelly to other party offices.

Republicans terminate 1,500 clerical and service workers as of January 4, delaying severance and denying accrued leave. One middle-aged elevator operator just shakes her head, "That's cold."

The Democratic and Republican Study Groups have been abolished. This bugs me. It reduces the legislative literacy rate 50 percent, guaranteeing a bumper sticker floor debate: Empowering Tax Cut vs. Food Stamps for the Rich.

December 16. A senior Democratic Staffer notes the change in Christmas gift giving. Whereas her office was once a magnet for lobbyist food gifts, this year, she's received just one jar of pitted olives and a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau. The fine wines are now going to her soon-to-be majority counterpart.

January 3, 1995. The first fun day back on the Hill and the last 24 hours during which the House is officially under Democratic control. The Republicans are conducting dress rehearsals for the first day in the chamber.

I meet with Barney Frank and David Bonior to discuss the "parliamentary monitor" positions Barney and I are taking. We're supposed to prowl the floor, make sure Democrats get heard, and help members combat Republicans. We feel we should make sure the Republicans always pay a price for what they do. Even routine unanimous consent requests must get us chits to be used down the road.

We're going to push the lobbying reform bill that Newt helped stall in the last days of the 103rd. Embarrass their new members by forcing them to vote against the Holy Grail of their campaign speeches.

January 4, day one. Packed House floor. Kids everywhere. Ted Kennedy is on the floor, the proud father watching his son Patrick sworn in.

Newt has his moments of eloquence, but he talks too much. New members are hanging on every word. Others' eyes glaze over. Some of Newt's story is stepped on by his mother's telling CBS's Connie Chung that Newt believes Hillary Clinton is a bitch.

The detail of this day is not important. People probably weren't glued to C-Span until 2 a.m. But it was the pictures, the montage, the impression that registered. Something is being done. The feckless, do-nothing Congress is out. CNN would break into floor debate from regular programming, Gulf War-style. Its reporters kept a running tally of the reform measures passed and those still waiting. How will this inaugural day play on the small screen in St. Louis? I give it five stars.

Balanchine would envy the choreography. Legislation and media coverage are designed to produce exactly the desired perceptions: urgency, responsiveness, revolution. I attend a ballet once every five years and don't know an arabesque from a pirouette. But I sure know artistry when I see it.

In the evening, Democrats jammed the cloakroom drinking cans of Coke and eating hot dogs and microwave popcorn. We cheer when the Ma Gingrich clip comes on. Meanwhile, TV America is channel surfing and seeing Republicans on every channel: "Heck, I don't know what is going on except apparently these guys are finally moving Congress.... Where is Roseanne? This must be serious."

Give a hand to the new Speaker. Newt does good TV.

January 5. Democrats on the Government Operations Committee caucus in 2154. I see the former chairmen's portraits stacked in a comer. Jack Brooks is at the top of the pile. Fifteen minutes of civility, then "You touch my seniority and I'll cut your hand off."

Silly fight over ranking minority memberships, which are useless anyway. You get no staff. You get no right to set an agenda. You can't call witnesses.

The Government Operations Committee will mark up an unfunded mandates bill next week. No hearing. No subcommittee markup. Slam, bam, right to the floor with legislation that would effect every aspect of federal regulation.

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