Josh Getzler
I just spent the last hour and a half watching the State of the Union address (and pregame, and DVRed the postgame show), and I have to say, I simply love the pomp of the event. We are an amazing political experiment in the country, and while the system is broken in so many ways (regardless of what side of the aisle you sit), this is one of those nights that transfixes me amidst the political mishegas of congressional gridlock and an election year.
This time, for the first time, we watched with the kids, two of whom have the strep I generously shared with them last week. As is the case with all kids, they were very impressed with the entrance and the introduction and the first, oh, ten or so words of the speech, then wanted to know if they could switch to Victorious. But then I told them I used to work there, and they perked up (albeit briefly).
"You worked in the United Nations?"
"Congress, Sweetie, this is the Capitol Building."
"My class visited the UN last year." Then she turned back to J-14.
There was a notable, if subtle, change in the look of the House chamber this year: No teenagers kneeling near the podium in polyester ties and grey slacks (or skirts). That's because a few months ago, the congressional page program, expensive and long since redundent from the use of cell phones and email, had been abolished. And it was one of those understandable shames.
I worked as a page in the House during the summer of 1985, before my senior year of high school. I lived in a dorm in one of the House Office Buildings with 17 year-olds from all over the country, and spent my days running from the House floor to assorted office buildings, carrying messages and (much of the time) boxes containing folded American flags to be raised on top of the Capitol. (Actually--spoiler alert!--there is a little flagpole on the side of the Capitol roof where a fellow spends his entire day raising and lowering flags in order to send them back to assorted districts with certificates that the flag few "Over the Capitol." And you know what? I think that's just fine.)
I spent those eight weeks meeting and becoming friends with kids from all over the country, from my West Virginia-bred roommate who'd never met a Jew before to the page from Utah who was the first Mormon I'd met. The entire gamut of political views was represented, and we spent huge numbers of hours geeking out over whose office was nicest, which Members were most respected (Jack Kemp in the House, Ted Kennedy in the Senate, judging by the number of people who showed up when they spoke, as opposed to the nearly empty chambers most of the rest of the time). It was a program that was only incidentally valuable in terms of actually running the Capitol efficiently (it WAS 17 year-olds!), but there was something else great about it: It was an incubator for future public servants, a first step for the politically interested (or just well-connected...). It was an unforgettable summer.
I've stayed in touch with several of my fellow pages over the ensuing 26 years (Jeez!), and when the announcement came that the program was going to be disbanded, the budget saved, we posted for a while on Facebook and were wistful. Because while, of course it was a relic of a bygone era, it's sure a pity to see it go.
