list and went prowling again for other members. From years of
practice, Buchanan navigated with ease the labyrinths of the Senate and
House office buildings where even veterans of the Hill sometimes became
lost. The only other place where he spent as much time was the Capitol
itself. His eyes darted left and right, picking up on everyone he saw,
staff members or other lobbyists, swiftly making a calculation as to
whether a particular person could help the cause or not. And when you
went into chambers with members or caught them in the halls, you had
better be ready to roll. They were busy, often harassed, and thinking
of five hundred things at once. Fortunately, Buchanan could summarize
the most complex issues in a matter of sentences, a talent for which he
was legendary; members, besieged on all sides by special interests of
every kind, absolutely demanded this skill. And he could pitch his
client’s position with passion. All in two minutes while walking down
a crowded corridor or while packed inside an elevator or, if he was
very lucky, on a long plane flight. Catching the really powerful
members was important. If he could get the Speaker of the House to
voice support for one of his bills, even informally, Buchanan would use
that to leverage other members on the fence. Sometimes that was
enough. “He in, Doris?” Buchanan asked as he popped his head into a
member’s chambers and eyed the matronly appointments secretary, a
veteran of the place.
“He’s leaving in five minutes to catch a flight, Danny.”
“That’s great because I only need two minutes. I can use the other
three to catch up with you. I like talking to you better anyway. And
God bless Steve, but you’re far easier on the eye, my dear.”
Doris’s heavy face crinkled into a smile. “You smoothie, you.”
And he got his two minutes with Congressman Steve.
Buchanan next had stopped at the cloakroom and found out which Senate
committees had been assigned to a series of bills he was interested in.
There were committees of primary and sequential and, in rare cases,
concurrent jurisdiction, depending on what was in a particular bill.
Simply determining who had what bill and in what priority of importance
was a huge, ever-changing jigsaw puzzle that lobbyists had to
constantly figure out. It was often a maddening challenge, and there
was no one better at it than Danny Buchanan.
In the course of this day Buchanan had, as always, plied members’
offices with his “leave behinds,” information and summaries the staffs
would need to educate their members on the issues. If they had a
question or concern, he would find an answer or an expert, promptly.
And Buchanan had concluded every single meeting with the all-important
question: “When can I follow up?” Without getting a date certain, he
would never hear back from any of them. He would be forgotten, his
place taken by a hundred others clamoring just as passionately for
their clients.
Then he had spent the late afternoon covering other clients normally
handled by Faith. He gave apologies and vague explanations for her
absence. What else could he do?
After that he gave remarks at a think-tank-sponsored seminar on world
hunger, and then it was back to his office to make phone calls ranging
from reminding members’ staffs of a variety of issues coming up for
vote, to drumming up coalition support from other charitable
organizations. A couple of dinners were arranged, future overseas
travel booked, along with a visit in January to the White House, where
he would personally introduce the president to the new head of an
international children’s rights organization. It was a real coup that
Buchanan and the organizations he supported hoped would generate some
good publicity. They were constantly on the lookout for celebrity
support. Faith had been particularly good at that. Journalists were
rarely interested in the poor from faraway lands, but throw in a
Hollywood superstar and the media room would be bursting with scribes.
Such was life.
Then Buchanan had spent some time doing his FARA–Foreign Agent
Registration Act-quarterly reports, which were a real pain in the ass,
particularly since you had to stamp every page filed with Congress with