“So I started going around to different offices, and this one needed someone to work part-time in the mail room,” he says, referring to McCain’s office. “I didn’t even know if he was a Republican or a Democrat. I just knew they were paying me six thousand dollars a year, and I thought I was going to be the richest kid on the planet.” He pauses. “Now they pay me twelve grand a year.”
We all laugh.
After starting in the mail room of the freshman senator, he never left. Joe tells us how Meghan’s dad took him under his wing, mentored him, and over the years gave him more and more responsibilities. Now he’s a lifer.
Meghan asks why he stayed so long.
“Lack of ambition, that’s all,” he replies before turning serious. “I don’t want to sound sappy or anything but I really do, honestly, love this guy. He’s been like a dad to me . . . I’m still scared shit of him, like you would your grumpy old dad sometimes.”
This guy’s scared of him after twenty-something years together? Great. Now I’m even more nervous to meet Papa.
Joe has to go back to his office to monitor what’s happening on the Senate floor. Our visit here occurs in the middle of a huge debate about raising the debt ceiling. Everybody in Washington is talking about whether or not the president and Congress will reach a deal to allow the government to borrow yet more money to keep the government operational. It’s been a partisan, contentious debate, more so even than every other partisan, contentious debate they’ve had since Obama took office. Before he goes, I ask Joe if the tenor in Washington has actually gotten worse, or is that a misperception?
He considers this and says, “It used to be really fun . . . You came to work every day knowing you were going to do something cool. The perception and the reality is that we’re so polarized that we’re not getting anything done, but there are still instances where there’s still a ray of hope.”
Knowing what he knows now, would he recommend going into politics to his younger self? Joe answers that he would certainly recommend to any young person who has the opportunity to spend some time working on Capitol Hill to see how democracy actually works, but “would I recommend somebody go into it as a career?” He pauses for a second. “I don’t think so.”
He excuses himself and goes.
In the anteroom, there is bustle and commotion. I recognize the familiar gravelly voice before I see the man; Senator McCain is definitely in da house. He bustles into the office followed by a small retinue of assistants and staffers. I stand out of instinct and deference, but the senator doesn’t register my presence at all.
I’ve been around a lot of famous people before, but it’s still a slight shock to see somebody so well known right in front of me. John McCain is not a large man, but he’s stocky, and he fills the space around him. I watch him trundle through the office, glancing at papers on his desk, turning an eye to the TV monitor, answering staff questions, his voice loud enough to be heard but no louder. When he moves, he gives the impression of somebody leaning into
wind, or charging a hill, as if the world with all of its troubles can be tamed if only enough force and energy are brought to bear.
Finally, his staff retires with their marching orders and he turns his attention to his daughter. She greets him with a hug, and introduces me. We shake hands and settle onto his couches for a couple of minutes of chitchat. I know Meghan has explained the book to him before, but he still seems at a slight loss as to who I am and what I am doing with his daughter. I try explaining the book to him but his mind is obviously elsewhere, and after confirming that we will be having dinner later that evening, he grumbles something like “see ya later” to me, gives Meghan a quick kiss goodbye and heads back out, his secretary confirming appointments and handing him stacks of phone messages as he goes, taking all the air with him.
Meghan:
I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist to understand that things in Washington have changed within my lifetime. There was a time when Tip O’Neill and Ronald Reagan were good friends and would socialize after the business of politics had ended for the day. There is even a famous story of Tip O’Neill visiting Reagan in the hospital after he was shot. Can you possibly imagine John Boehner and Nancy Pelosi doing absolutely anything together after hearings close for the day? The “you are either with us or against us” attitude completely permeates politics and the political narrative today, and I think anyone with half a brain can see the damage it has inflicted on this country.
The thing that makes me so sad during our discussion is when Joe says that “it used to be fun” working on Capitol Hill and now it isn’t. When Joe was younger and worked in my father’s office, I remember he also worked at night at a BBQ restaurant called Red Hot and Blue and had a reputation for being a lady’s man around the office. I remember it looked like he was having such a great time in a young-kid-takes-on-Capitol-Hill type of way. Michael asks if Joe would recommend anyone going into this business and he pauses, takes a breath, looks at me, and says, “I don’t think so.” My heart breaks a little bit hearing that. Granted Joe has been on the
Hill, well, forever, but it still makes me sad. I just hope things haven’t changed so much that at some point it can’t return to being fun again.
Joe leaves to go back to his desk; he has votes to watch and work to do. I can hear my father coming in from the side of the office. There’s always a sort of rustling-of-papers noise when he walks into his office and people start going on alert. “Hang on,” I tell Michael and Stephie. I get up and rush to the other side of the office.
“Hey, Meggie!” He gives me a quick kiss.
“Hi, Dad. Remember that comedian is here with me for that book I’m working on, and he is in the other room waiting. Please just be nice and don’t freak him out.” My father sort of half chuckles and says, “Whatever you say.” For the life of me, ever since this project began I have had an extremely difficult time explaining to my father
exactly
who Michael Ian Black is. Do you know how difficult it is to explain what an alternative comedian is to a man who is seventy-five, and basically unless you are David Petraeus or Henry Kissinger he doesn’t have time for you?
We walk in together and I introduce my father to everyone. Michael is standing off to the side and looks . . . well, Michael looks petrified. I don’t blame Michael; most people are petrified of my father. His physical presence is intimidating, his reputation is intimidating, and he doesn’t suffer fools lightly. My father seems really frustrated and preoccupied with everything that is going on with the debt ceiling crisis. I can tell he is stressed out and, quite frankly, I don’t want to bother him. A quick chat and he’s out of there, back to the business of governing.
Before our afternoon meeting with Congressman Kucinich, we go on a tour of the Senate and House of Representatives with a young, flirty, Irish intern named Jack. I could have given this tour, but Jack is charming and starts gossiping with us about what life as an intern is really like. I have always thought a fantastic idea for a reality show would be following Capitol Hill interns around during the day—and night. Sex! Parties! Legislature! The opportunities for drama are endless!
We eat lunch in a Senate cafeteria and a few people recognize both me and Michael; they seem excited about the concept for the book, which makes me happy, especially because no one on my father’s staff nor my father seem to have any real understanding of what exactly Michael and I are doing there.
Toward the end of our tour we go to the Capitol rotunda and look at the statues that occupy the bottom lobby area. Jack points out to us a giant statue of a woman draped in fabric, holding a sword and a shield. She is wearing a feathered helmet and her eyes are looking off into the distance. It’s my favorite statue and I recognize it instantly. She’s Lady Freedom.
“If you notice, her eyes are facing off into the east because the sun never sets on freedom,” he says. We all look up at her and I sort of say under my breath, “That’s because America is one sexy bitch.” It’s a ridiculous thing to say, but it makes everyone laugh. I feel patriotic and nostalgic looking at her. Despite all the things that make me sad about Washington, DC, and the Capitol, it’s too easy to forget that for all of our problems and issues, America is the greatest goddamn country in the history of the world. There never was a country greater and there never will be. Something about Lady Freedom puts a grin on my face and makes me smile, and my spirits are lifted, which is good because our next stop is visiting Dennis Kucinich.
Michael:
I’m just going to lay this out there and readers can take from it what they will: Dennis Kucinich is my new hero. I certainly didn’t expect that to be the case when we went to meet with him, but I emerged from his office a convert to the Kucinich Way.
The first thing I notice as we walk towards his office is how out of the way it is. We walk and walk and walk. We take elevators and wander hallways and finally arrive at a small suite of offices tucked into a distant corner of the Capitol. I have to wonder if the house leadership put him here on purpose. Is he too kooky to get the good offices? Instead of a staff of dozens like at Senator McCain’s, Representative Kucinich’s office seems like it is comprised entirely of college
interns on break from Oberlin. If the average age is much above twenty-two, I’d be surprised. We tell the teenager at the reception area we have an appointment. She refers us to some twelve-year-old who tells us to take a seat. We chitchat with them about Justin Bieber and training bras until Representative Kucinich emerges from his office and ushers us inside.
The desk is oriented around a single round, wooden table placed in the middle of the room. We take seats around it and I ask if I can record the conversation. “Of course,” he says, which is atypical among politicians.
Meghan begins by thanking him for taking time to meet with us. He pshaws. “I admire your dad, and I feel that we have a congressional family here and you’re entitled to meet with anybody you want to meet with.”
You hear that, Senator Franken? A congressional family!
Before meeting with him, I wasn’t that familiar with Dennis Kucinich, having really only seen him sporadically during the Democratic debates when he ran for president in 2004 and 2008, but I just accepted what people said about him: too left wing, too loony, without having spent any time examining his record or beliefs.
He spends forty-five minutes with us, and within the first of those minutes it is clear that he may be left wing, but he’s not loony. Instead I find a thoughtful, insightful, deeply empathetic man who belies every stereotype about politicians. Instead of Machiavelli, I find Deepak Chopra.
“As a kid, I had Crohn’s very bad,” he tells us. “It almost killed me. I was twenty years old, had radical surgery. Wasn’t until years later in life that I changed my life and became a vegan. Started to use alternative medicine like Chinese medicine. I don’t have that problem anymore. I had to take some personal responsibility.”
He’s speaking about health care, but he’s also speaking about education and the way our nation engages with others: “We can’t be all over the world telling people how to live and what to do. It doesn’t work in interpersonal relationships and it doesn’t in relationships between nations.”
In terms of personal responsibility for the United States as a whole, I take from him that he believes we need to get our own house in order before trying to police the world. He walks over to a small pedestal, upon which is some sort of jagged metal object.
“I took that shell there from an apartment complex in Qana, in South Lebanon, where that was part of a thousand-pound American-made bomb that was dropped on an apartment house and killed fifty women and children who sought shelter in the basement.”
The bomb was dropped in 2006 as part of the Israel-Lebanon war, a war I hadn’t paid that much attention to. The shell fragment is a dull-black color, heavy. I’ve seen bombs before, but never an exploded one, nor have I ever considered what a bomb looks like once detonated. Never thought about the pieces left behind. He tells us he was given the shrapnel from the people of Qana as a reminder of what they’d been through. He points out that the dog tags of three captured Israeli soldiers were found along with the bomb fragment.
“It goes beyond matters of who’s right because that can always shift from different points of view. In fact, the reason I have the table like this is to remind me that every point needs to be listened to.”
He walks to a bookcase and retrieves a battered copy of a book from 1932 published by the Agni Yoga Society called
Heart.
He says it’s one of the most important books he’s ever read, telling us he’s been studying it for thirty years, describing himself as being on a “spiritual journey,” telling us “there’s not one path, there are many paths.” Exactly! Preach, Brother Kucinich, preach! He’s not my new hero, he’s my new god.
Meghan:
Going into our meeting with Congressman Kucinich, my impression of him is pretty much what most Republicans’ impressions are of this man. I think he is a radical liberal pacifist. Yes, that pretty much covers it. His views on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan go completely against everything I believe, he claims to have
seen a UFO, he sometimes comes off silly to me in debates and interviews, and he ran for president several times for seemingly no reason other than publicity.
I did not think I was going to like him, but I was grateful and surprised that he agreed to meet with us. We walk into his office and sort of awkwardly stand around and wait in the entrance, while all of Dennis Kucinich’s staffers start telling me how much they like my work and my appearances on television. Apparently talking about not being a virgin on Chelsea Handler’s show is still a favorite for some people. They could not be friendlier and more welcoming. For whatever reason, I was expecting a little aversion from Kucinich’s staff because, well, I am a Republican and they are Democrats, but his staff is really warm and friendly. Just as we all start really talking, Senator Kucinich opens the door and beckons to us.