Denims For Dollars
In a display of excess as unabashed as it is feudal, Democrats by the thousands poured into Washington's MCI Center Wednesday night to laugh, eat, drink and empty their pockets to the tune of $26.5 million.
Never before has a political party amassed so much dough in a single evening. Among the court jesters and bards on the slate were Robin Williams, Stevie Wonder, Lenny Kravitz, LeAnn Rimes and Darias Rucker of Hootie and the Blowfish fame. But the headline act - as it has been for almost eight star-studded years - was President Bill Clinton.
Wednesday's night mega-fund-raiser was billed as a "salute" to the president and his chosen successor, Vice President Al Gore. But "tribute" might be a better word in the sense of knights and vassals bending the knee and handing over what the dictionary defines as "a gift, payment, declaration or other acknowledgment of gratitude, respect or admiration."
President Clinton commands a deep-pocketed loyalty of unprecedented proportions. He has raised more money for himself, his party and other Democratic candidates than any human on earth, perhaps as much as $1 billion since he seized the national spotlight in 1992.
Mr. Clinton's luster as a fund-raiser is undimmed by scandal or shame.
Just Monday, a committee of the Arkansas Supreme Court recommended that the president be disbarred because of allegedly false statements made under oath about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky.
What gift would you bring to a Clinton fund raiser?
And, of course, Mr. Clinton's zeal for fund-raising has led to the sort of embarrassing moments which threaten to haunt not just his legacy, but his vice president's, as well: the White House coffees, the Lincoln bedroom, the Buddhist temple.
But it's almost as though every misfortune or mistake Mr. Clinton makes only endears him to the party's true believers, whose faith in his economic miracle is matched only by their faith in a vast right-wing conspiracy. A hero under fire might even make them dig a little deeper.
So adept is the president at finding money that one wonders what he'll do with this skill once he's left office. Will his charisma still work as a magnet, drawing loose change from the nation's sofas? In light of his extraordinary shilling abilities, it's all the more interesting to note, as the New York Times did Monday, that the president's pitch never includes a direct appeal for money; he's more the inspirational set-up man.
"He's a magical name for fund-raising," said Larry Makinson, who heads the Center for Responsive Plitics. That works both ways, of course: the name "Clinton" makes lots of people reach for their checkbooks, whether they love him or hate him.
Democratic National Committee officials say Wednesday night's event at the MCI Center was a sell-out. That means about 12,000 people were on hand contributing soft money, the ever-expanding pillow which partisans believe stands between success and failure.
Under the federal election laws, a contributor can give as much as she likes, as long as she's giving it to the party, not to a specific candidate.
Of course, the Democrats aren't alone in the cash-raking department.
Just last month, the GOP seized the record for biggest fund-raising event ever with a $21.3 million bash for the Republican National Committee in Washington. And it stands to reason that perhaps this year, perhaps next, the RNC or the DNC will up the ante and stage the next Fattest Event Ever.
Now the Democrats insist that, despite their $25 million dinners, they're the party of the common man, while the Republicans are all about the rich. After all, the MCI event was no black-tie affair; it's jeans and cowboy boots and barbecue.
And they quickly point out that while some 40 donors at Wednesday's event contributed at least $250,000 each, thousands of people in the room are just plain folks who shelled out a mere $50. Still, it's the quarter-of-a-million dollar crowd who got a private dinner with the president on Tuesday, and seats near his table Wednesday.
Vice President Gore, of course, called for a ban on soft money, but refused to undertake that practice unilaterally. Fair enough, but escorting the big spenders to seats of honor near the throne only clarifies why people cough up hundreds of thousands of dollars to a political party: access.
Would Slim-Fast Foods chairman Daniel Abraham or Internet entrepreneur Vinod Gupta ($500,000 each) smile politely if steered to a corner table near the kitchen?
No one expects them to be that disinterested. Half-a-million dollars worth of political conviction merits more than a glimpse of glory through the keyhole. Fifty bucks worth of conviction might be just as passionate and even more disinterested, but all it buys is a chance to see how messily the great - and the near great who fund them - eat their ribs.