“For a certain kind of person, D.C. is
celebrity-sighting heaven; unlike Los Angeles, Washington proper is quite
compact, so its famous-person population density is high. Within days of my
arrival, I was having sightings. That person in front of me in line at the
coffee shop—didn’t I see her out of the corner of my eye on MSNBC at 2:00 p.m.
the other day? Huge! That guy walking out of the restaurant near my
apartment—isn’t he a congressman from Kansas or something? Mega! And whenever I
spotted famous people I could actually name (Ben Bernanke enjoying lunch at Le
Pain Quotidien was a good one; so was Paul Ryan striding through the lobby of
my office building), I would quickly send a text message to an uncle who cares
about this sort of thing.”— Ethan Epstein, “Boris in the Flesh,” The
Weekly Standard, Nov. 2, 2015
The image accompanying this post, of course, is of Congressman Ryan, whose lean look,
sculpted by an extensive workout regimen, makes him rather more camera-ready
than your average Capitol Hill denizen.
But what seems to have eluded Mr. Epstein is the
power factor associated with the glamor exuded by DC figures. Ryan could
work out like a decathlon competitor, but had he not been a Vice-Presidential
candidate, House Ways and Means Committee Chair, and now Speaker of the House,
nobody would care.
Case in point: one of his predecessors in his latest
office, Newt Gingrich. After
Gingrich masterminded the GOP midterm tidal wave of 1994, he seemed to be
followed everywhere—by the media, by party functionaries latching on to the
Next Big Thing, and even—surprisingly enough, for a man who had not yet grasped
the value of a diet—women. His first and second marriages both foundered over
his adulterous affairs. (His affair with his third wife was still going strong
at the height of the Clinton impeachment proceedings.)
But once Gingrich, fearing the wrath of the GOP rank
and file for leading them to disaster four years later, resigned as Speaker and
from the House itself, that electricity was lost overnight. Someone told me a
few years later that he had been seen walking into a Manhattan publishing
house, not only without a full entourage but without anyone accompanying him.
He had to have suffered a fate not unlike Gloria Swanson’s
Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard—confused
and driven mad by lack of attention. That is the only real reason why he would have chosen to run for President in 2012, when the country--and even the GOP electorate he had once led--had changed drastically.
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