There is such an uplifting, first-day-of-school spirit in Official Washington this week. House and Senate members are returning to work with sharpened pencils, fresh haircuts and a renewed chance to serve the nation, make a difference and stage photo ops.
This was displayed vividly yesterday morning at 300 Massachusetts Ave. NW, where Ken Salazar, the newly elected Democratic senator from Colorado, is sharing a two-bedroom, $2,300-a-month apartment with his older brother John, a newly elected Democratic representative. They could be any pair of Hill roomies getting ready for work, except that the kitchen they're standing in is jammed with 17 reporters and cameramen who are here to witness the incredible novelty that is two brothers/roommates/new members of Congress getting ready to start their first day of work.
Joined by their wives and children, the Salazars field questions about: which brother will do the laundry (both), who's the better cook (Ken), whether they shared a room as kids (yes), whether that couch in the living room pulls out into a bed (yes), whether either of them snores (no), when they moved in (Thursday), where they got their couches (online) and when the cable was installed (Monday).
"Okay CNN, what do you want us to do?" Ken asks a cameraman standing in front of him. The 49-year-old senator then heads upstairs, commencing a tour of the two-level, 1,200-square-foot "luxury apartment," which overlooks a dumpster and is furnished with a fake tree in one corner and Ramada Inn-style paintings on the walls. Ken, Colorado's former attorney general, shows off his bedroom. Its bare walls and surfaces contain no hint of human presence except for a small American flag pin on the dresser and a paperback titled "Paranoia" on the nightstand.
John, a 51-year-old farmer and former state assemblyman, is following a group of reporters up the stairs, pointing out a fascinating array of features as he goes: a washer and dryer, a high-speed Internet portal and a small bathroom that he calls a "one-seater."
No articles of hygiene are visible on the sink, but Ken Salazar assures a reporter that "I brush my teeth at least once a month." Each Salazar keeps four pressed suits hanging in his closet.
"Hey, get out of the shot, will ya?" a TV cameraman yells to a reporter who is standing too close to John outside the bathroom.
"Sorry, dude."
The Salazars grew up on a ranch in Manassa, Colo., two of eight children, five of whom shared a room. Sharing quarters is not new to them, even if everything else this week is.
"This is all a pretty daunting endeavor, coming to Washington," says Ken, who like his brother will spend three or four nights a week in Washington and return to Colorado on weekends. "It will be nice to have my brother around so we can do this together."
The Salazars fashion themselves "Western Democrats," which means they are moderate, marketable to red state voters, at ease with rural issues, and they wear cowboy boots.
Sitcom possibilities abound for "The Salazars": Two brothers grow up on a ranch, come to Washington and encounter all kinds of goofiness, like an army of reporters in their kitchen asking hygiene questions.
Ken says they haven't met any other residents of the building yet, but convention would dictate that the sitcom feature a colorful neighbor like Schneider from "One Day at a Time" or Kramer from "Seinfeld."
And, wouldn't you know it, as the Salazars bid farewell to the reporters in their kitchen, a man with a Chihuahua walks by in the hallway. He has potential.
A few minutes later, John's press aide, Nayyera Haq, returns to the apartment with a fresh batch of reporters.
A Denver TV correspondent asks what will happen if Ken's and John's wives, who will remain in Colorado, find socks on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink when they visit. "We'll check in to a hotel," replies Ken's wife, Hope.
A reporter for Roll Call asks who will have seniority in the household, Senator Ken (from the higher chamber) or Congressman John (who is two years older)? To which John says, "Ken will respect my seniority here."
A reporter for Univision asks a question about Social Security and judicial nominations.
An intrepid consortium of reporters demands a peek inside the fridge, to which John reluctantly accedes, revealing day-old pizza in a box.
"Pepperoni and sausage," John says. "You want some pizza? Seriously."