It's not 'Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.'(Senate filibusters)

• Author: Dauster, Bill

The Lady Vanished.... "I object," was all she said before she turned and strode through the swinging doors. Senate Democratic Leader Tom Daschle called out to the lady, Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison: "Would the senator from Texas wish to state her reason for the objection? Mr. President, could we get the attention of the senator from Texas?" But she was gone.

Such is the fashion of the filibuster in the modern Senate. No longer does a senator hold the floor in long, impassioned debate, as in the film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Now legislators log their filibusters with the leadership, and the Senate pretends to hold them. A senator doesn't even need to attend her own filibuster. Her party handles it for her.

It used to be more like the movies. Senators delivered seemingly interminable speeches. They taxed their stamina to the limit. They employed clever means to sustain themselves for long periods during which they could neither eat nor withdraw to answer nature's call.

The indefatigable Senator Strom Thurmond holds the record. In August 1957, he addressed the Senate for 24 hours and 18 minutes in an effort to halt the advance of civil rights for African Americans. Running a close second, Senator Wayne Morse held the floor for over 22 hours fighting the Tidelands oil bill in 1953. Senator Robert La Follette Sr. spent almost 19 hours on his feet battling the Aldrich-Vreeland currency bill in 1908.

These somnolent soliloquies earned the Senate a reputation as a tiring place. Former Dean of the House of Representatives Jamie Whitten told how, in the wee hours of the morning, Senator Homer Ferguson once confessed, "Jamie, there are only two ways our Senate can act, either by unanimous consent or exhaustion."

The record for the longest speech of recent years belongs to Senator Alfonse D'Amato of New York, who held up a tax bill in October 1992 in a vain bid to save jobs at a Cortland, N. Y., typewriter factory. But Senator D'Amato's election-year filibuster had more to do with showmanship than legislation. His performance included singing selections from "Deep in the Heart of Texas" (for the benefit of Finance Committee Chairman Lloyd Bentsen, who just wanted to finish his tax bill) and "South of the Border" (where the typewriter jobs seemed headed). Alessandra Stanley of The New York Times placed it "somewhere between Jimmy Stewart taking on the capital and the final moments of the 'Jerry Lewis Telethon."'

Senator D'Amato's musical revue was the exception to the modern rule. More and more frequently, senators are forgoing the traditional practice of personally holding the...