Mr NYC in the White House

Many eons ago, in a time more peaceful and innocent than now, yours truly spent a summer interning at a non-profit in D.C. One sunny Sunday afternoon, I accompanied a group of visiting Japenese politicians (don't ask) to visit the White House -- only we didn't do the standard tour, we got to check out the West Wing ... years before The West Wing hit the tee-vee airwaves. 

I recall that we had to send in our credentials a few days ahead so that we could be vetted by the Secret Service. Then we waited outside the West Gate and were allowed in, walking up a hill towards the West Wing.

One of the guys on the tour told me to look upwards and I saw a man staring down at us through thick black binoculars holding a rifle. He was a Secret Service sharpshooter and, I was told, he could legally kill any of us at any second.

Naturally that did wonders for my self-esteem.

Then we went inside. What suprised me, and apparently surprises everyone, who visits the West Wing is how small it is. The halls are very narrow, the offices small and cramped. The floors are plush with thick carpeting and the walls are full of pictures of the President at various events -- in this case it was Mr. Clinton. 

We were escorted around to look at various meeting rooms -- lots and lots of oak furniture and gorgeous portraiture. They explained how the West Wing has all these rituals, almost Masonic-like, where various flags and stripes are displayed based on certain days or if various dignataries are visiting, etc.

At one point we went to the White House briefing room and I got to stand before the Press Secretary's lecturn. I even have a picture of my goofy self standing behind it, the grand "The White House" sign right behind me. Again, I was surprised how small this extremely important room was -- and how it was apparently built over a swimming pool making the room shockingly humid. 

Then, of course, the coup de grace of sorts -- the Oval Office. We didn't get to actually go in, we just stood by the door, staring into the seat of power, the most powerful work space in the world. What struck me about the Oval, however, and perhaps it was because it was summer and the air conditioning was blasting, was how impersonal and institutional it seemed, it felt sort of unpleasant and, yes, cold. The most notable thing was a chair backed up in front of the Resolute Desk -- with a variety of golf clubs in a row leaning against the chair. Apparently the President himself was just outside on the putting green. 

And at one point the security guard told us to move away and go into a hallway and wait -- before we were called back to the Oval Office door. Apparently the most powerful man in the world needed a putter. 

But I'll always remember how the guard standing outside of the Oval told us how much he loved President Clinton, how he worked day and night. It was striking how much personal affection this otherwise tough dude had for his boss. 

Then we left. About a year later we'd learn that Mr. Clinton and an intern had been having some fun in these same premises. Needless to say, I saw nuttin'. 

Another time, however, we visited the Old Exective Office Building and got to visit the Vice-President's office. That was a much more fun visit. Not only did we get to go inside the Veep's formal office but I even got to sit in this chair at his desk. Again, there's another dopey picture of yours truly sitting at then-VP Gore's formal desk. None of the VPs actually use this office to work in but we were shown a draw where every previous VP carves in their initials. Obviously it's been added to a few times from now. 

So that's Mr NYC's tour into the very heart of American power. Who knows, maybe one day, I'll return.