Suite Charity

By Tony Kornheiser
Sunday, March 2 1997; Page F01
The Washington Post

This is one of the prettiest times of the year to walk by the White House.

The cherry blossoms are beginning to bud.

The South Lawn is beginning to turn green.

The neon "Vacancy" sign is on.

Oh, yeah, that was part of the Clintons' restoration campaign. You remember when Lady
Bird Johnson beautified the grounds with flowers and bulbs, and Nancy Reagan brought in
that fancy china? Well, Bill and Hillary Clinton have posted a rate card in every bedroom,
and installed minibars. Coming soon: SpectraVision!

Traditionally, presidents have uttered phrases or slogans that became part of our political
lexicon: Abraham Lincoln's "malice toward none," Herbert Hoover's "chicken in every pot,"
Harry Truman's "buck stops here." What will Bill Clinton's defining phrase be?

"Rooms to let. Inquire within"?

What Clinton didn't mention when he talked about building a bridge to the 21st century is that
it's a toll bridge.

The president of the United States is running a bed-and-breakfast in the White House! How
cheesy does this look? Nine hundred and thirty- eight guests have slept in the White House in
the last four years -- an occupancy rate higher than most Red Roof Inns. A huge proportion
of them were fat cats, big-time Democratic Party financial donors. My cynical friend Tammy
says that if she had to pay a hundred grand for a night in the White House, she wouldn't
content herself with stealing a bar of scented soap. She would feel entitled to a brass
doorknob, at least. Or Zachary Taylor's spittoon.

According to a poll in USA Today, 42 percent of Americans think that Clinton is wrong to
do this. The other 58 percent apparently have no problem with it. Who are these people?
They probably think it's all right for him to start subletting the basement to college students.

Let's see how democracy in action works.

First you gather up a bunch of cash -- which is called "soft money," because you can sleep on
it -- and you bring it in a big bag to the White House, along with your jammies, and then you
get assigned to a bedroom. (I admit I'm leery of staying in a White House bedroom, given the
history of taping there. What if they taped you having sex? What an embarrassment. Then
again, it might be more embarrassing if you paid $100,000 for the room and you didn't have
sex.) The Lincoln Bedroom is the prize catch, but there are plenty of others. I hear the
Chester A. Arthur bedroom is going for $119.99, but the toilet gurgles.

At first Clinton denied he had any direct involvement with this fiasco. But then he had to
cough up the documents, and if you are going to be picky about it, a few of them seem to
suggest a somewhat more active presidential role, such as the one in Clinton's handwriting
that said, "Tell the Pakistani guy that if he comes up with another $287.50 we'll throw in
turn-down service and a shoe-buffing cloth."

(By the way, I didn't think I could afford to actually sleep over at the White House. So the
other day I called up and offered $50 to take a nap.)

This whole thing leaves me feeling a bit uneasy. On one hand, who wouldn't like the idea of
being able to sleep in the White House -- especially with a date! On the other hand, they
have already let 938 people sleep there, including 370 goobers from Arkansas. That
devalues the experience. It's like being an astronaut. Back during the early 1960s, there were
only seven of them, short guys with swaggers and crew cuts you could two-putt on. Back
then, being an astronaut meant something. Everyone knew their names, even their nicknames
("Snazz"). Now any yutz with an engineering degree goes into space, and NASA public
relations people have to scramble to come up with human-interest stories about them ("Mr.
Wooba is the first native Samoan astronaut with nasal polyps . . ."). I hear Riddick Bowe's
going to try becoming an astronaut next, now that he washed out of the Marines.

My point is that in a few months, having slept in the White House will be as passe as a wrist
corsage. Everywhere you go, people will be wearing "I Slept at the White House and All I
Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt" T-shirts.

I'm trying to think how I can cash in on this rental craze. Like Clinton, I won't take cash
directly. All contributions will be donated to the, um, Tony Kornheiser Library.

Listen, my office is just a few blocks from the White House. For $100 you can walk by, and
I will acknowledge you with a brief but heartfelt wave.

For $300 you can sit in my office and chat me up, and I will offer you a pretzel. If another
big-shot columnist walks by, such as Michael Wilbon, I will call him in to say hello to you,
and you can tell him how he looks fatter on TV.

For $400 you can sleep on my office couch.

For $500 you can write this column.

And for $10,000 I'll see if I can get you this same deal with Dave Barry.

The Tony Kornheiser Unofficial Home Page

Anyelet's Demesne

GeoCities