Legislative Perks That I Have Known

I was listening to the Al Mascitti Show yesterday. Of course, I listen to the Al Mascitti Show every day that I have the chance. (Editor’s Note: This shameless plug has nothing to do with El Somnambulo’s imminent appearance this Thursday at 10 am on Al’s show , WDEL-1150 AM.)

What struck me was the genuine surprise that many listeners felt when reading the News-Journal’s articles on Tigani and his (wait for it) ilk, and were especially surprised at the, let’s say, easy relationships between lobbyists and legislators (and, yes, legislative staff) and governors (and, yes gubernatorial staff).

So, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m going to lay out as many of the legislative perks that I can recall. This will not be an all-inclusive list, so I intend to add to it as my memories come back. I would invite any and all anonymous current or former legislative staffers to add to the list.

1. Beer. DeLuca doesn’t have to return calls from the press. When I worked in Leg Hall, Tigani’s guys came by to load up the President Pro-Tem’s fridge the week before session opened. Which was why Bud was the beer of choice during those after-session get-togethers in the Pro-Tem’s office. Here’s what you may not know. These deliveries were not limited to the Pro-Tem. Many of the legislators in both the House and Senate have those mini-fridges in their offices. While some, like Bryon Short, only had a couple of lonely cans of sardines in there, others had beer. Lotsa beer. This goes back to my very first year in the Delaware General Assembly, 1983.

True story: One day, I am summoned by a former Speaker of the House, Casimir Jonkiert.  He says to me, and I quote as best I can: “Who the hell told you that you could steal beer out of my office?” Keep in mind that this is my first year, I’m walking on eggshells, and would never dream of doing such a thing. To which, the Bill Clerk says, “I said Steve, your  son Steve.” A son who, by the way, walked around with those beclouded eyes that would have been a dead giveaway to any parent who was paying attention. Never got an apology from Jonkiert. And Jonkiert never wanted for beer in his fridge.

And, trust me, there are still plenty of legislators who enjoy the perk of fridges filled with beer.  That might now change. Or not.

2. The Booze Cruise. Every two years, around the beginning of June in the ‘off’ years (no elections), the Delaware River and Bay Pilots Association would treat legislators, staff, anybody who had ever had a sniff of Leg Hall (including ex-legislators and lobbyists, often one and the same), spouses, assorted SO’s and other hangers-on to a three (or was it four?) hour cruise from Lewes. This was a serious party, booze, lotsa food, the best shrimp you ever ate,  and live music. A three- (or was it four) hour getaway free from the prying eyes of those not in the club. In other words, no reporters. As a lowly and then somewhat less lowly staffer, I admit that I partook of this wondrous event about four times. My wife came along once, maybe twice. Not only was this a great chance for lobbyists to engage with happy (sometimes too happy) legislators and decision-makers, this event always preceded the introduction and passage of legislation raising (wait for it) the pilotage rates. Captain Ronny Jefferson was invariably the happiest guy in Leg Hall the week after the cruise.

3. Industry Dinners. In addition to the time-dishonored tradition of lobbyists (often former legislators) taking select legislators out to eat, the varying big lobbying interests, and some of the smaller ones, have post-session feeds for the legislators. The Insurance Industry was noted for the copious amounts of shrimp, the chemical industry was a fancy sit-down affair. The Delaware State Bar Association,  the Bankers, you name ’em, if they had big business before the General Assembly, they hosted one of these events. I am using past tense here b/c, since I haven’t been there for three years, I don’t know which of these still survive. Betcha most of them do.

4. Legislative Fundraisers. While the ‘honorables’ might have a beef-‘n-beer in their home districts for the Great Unwashed, virtually all of them hold fundraisers in Dover. Dover Downs has become one of the most popular spots for these events. Lobbyists come bearing checks, often multiple checks. Think about it. The top lobbyists have numerous clients. So, the most ‘reachable’ legislators get multiple checks from the same lobbyist,  just with different association names on the checks. Less ‘receptive’ legislators get fewer checks. This operation runs like clockwork. The so-called information arm of the General Assembly, Legislative Council, even helps coordinate the dates so that there are few competing fundraisers. Tough to do with 62 legislators.

5. Freebies. If you think that Chris Tigani is/was the only lobbyist (without portfolio) with a box at Philly sporting/concert events, guess again. While being a corporate haven may or may not be good for Delaware, it’s certainly great for the legislators. I truly wonder how many of them have ever paid for a ticket to a local event in the time that they’ve been in the General Assembly. Also, as my loyal reader(s) know, I’ve often referred to many legislators as this weird combination of ‘narcissism and insecurity’. What better way to appeal to both than to have a corporate biggie invite you to a golf outing? There is one legislator especially noted for this. I  think he would retire if he thought he would still be invited to golf outings once he’s no longer of any use to the deep-pocketed lobbyists. And, as Yahweh is my witness, he once gave a golf bag and set of clubs to a departing assistant who then went to work…as a lobbyist. Time to play nine.

6. Gifts. These were especially sought-after perks for staff. When I became the Research Assistant for the Joint Sunset Committee back in 1985, a non-partisan position, my office was located in Legislative Council in the basement of Legislative Hall. For those of you who have read me for some  time, you know that I consider Legislative Council to have been a repository for flunkies and legislators’ ‘favorites’. Imagine the culture shock I experienced when I come into work one day, and everybody, including me, has a Christmas stocking at the entrance to Legislative Council. A quick inquiry from me soon discovered that these were not ornamental, but were indeed stockings into which it was expected that lobbyists would stash gifts. I immediately had mine taken down, just one reason why I probably was never the best-loved employee in Legislative Council. This also explains why Legislative Council was more helpful to lobbyists than to legislators in general.

7. Food. First, of course, are meals bought and paid for by lobbyists for individual legislators. This happens all the time in Dover. And sometimes not just on a one-to-one basis. It’s not uncommon for a group of legislators to be ‘comped’ by a lobbyist or more than one lobbyist who just ‘happens’ to see them out at dinner. Or at a chicken ‘n dumplins’ lunch.  Next comes food that shows up in Legislative Hall. It used to be that, on June 30, legislators would go out to dinner and show up back in the Hall in next-to-no condition to work. It got so bad that the leadership came up with the alternative of having food brought in and served during the dinner break during the last week of session. Sometimes the legislature paid for it, sometimes it was brought in courtesy of lobbyists. I remember thinking through the ethics of devouring subs from a huge platter brought in by the Delaware chapter of the NRA. Not being pure as the driven snow, I soon decided that eating as much as I possibly could was my way of gaining revenge on the NRA. Uh, not that they had to send out for more or anything.  The lobbyists also threw a soiree every year at the annual National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) national convention. All Delaware attendees were invited to some pretty swank establishments (Commanders Palace in New Orleans, for example). I attended probably four of these events during my time in the legislature. I think my favorite was at a wine bar in Nashville.

I know I’m missing quite a few of these. I would encourage other denizens of the Hall to chime in with more.

I’m sure many of you are disgusted with this litany of favors and are asking the obvious question: “Why?”

The answer is that all this, which is a significant facet of the Delaware Way, is there and it’s so easy. As a legislator on your first day in Dover, you don’t have to seek it out, it seeks you out. If you’re not expecting it and are not prepared to resolutely push it away, it just soon wins you over. Meals, booze, junkets, campaign checks, new ‘friends’ who only want to help you, what’s not to like? And everybody does it because everybody has always done it. It’s the path of least resistance. It’s the Delaware Way. And you are told over and over again that you’re entitled to it for your selfless dedication to public service. Ya gotta eat, right? It requires true affirmative resistance to fight the urge. At which point special interest lobbyists may begin working with politicos on machinations to challenge you with someone more…reasonable.

You tell yourself that you will not be influenced by all this, but how can you not be? Both the insecure and narcissistic sides of your personality are being massaged and nurtured by these newfound ‘friends’. Hey, they want to play golf with you. They’d love your company at a NASCAR race. They believe in you and will deliver you campaign checks. When they ask for your help on a piece of legislation, they’re not lobbyists, they’re your friends, or at least you feel that kind of obligation after all they’ve done for you.

This is what it’s like. I hope you can understand why this kind of treatment is so seductive to legislators. Even ‘good’ legislators. It may be easy for us to say that we’d never succumb to this type of wooing, but, be honest, can you really be sure?

Multiply this by several million and you’ve got what goes on at the Federal level.

I have tried to give you, to the best of my ability, a true sense of what goes on in Dover and why it’s more complicated than the facts themselves might imply.

With that, let the conversations begin.