From Court To Jester
Without Dissent, Alfalfa Club Honors Sandra Day O'Connor

By Lynne Duke
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, January 28, 2007

You think you know politics? You think you know power? Well, if you've never heard of the Alfalfa Party and its nominee for president of the United States, you don't really know what makes this town tick. Oh yes! Take our word for it. There's more to this town than just Democrats and Republicans, though they'd never know it, never even fathom it, what with their chronic obsession with each other.

But as the new Alfalfa Party nominee said last night in accepting the nomination during the Alfalfa Club's annual dinner, "Quitus whinus over spiltus milkus."

She was talking to Republicans, "who've been bellyaching about losing the last election."

Oh, and did you notice? She's a she. This august body of the nation's powerful and rich, which as recently as 1993 did not even admit women into their ranks, last night elevated former Supreme Court justice Sandra Day O'Connor as its presidential nominee. Among her qualifications?

"I have great resolve," she told the hundreds of diners at the Capital Hilton, according to her prepared remarks. "Any woman who can sit in chambers for 25 years listening to seven men talk about their prostates has total resolve."

Bada-BING!

Once upon a time, the Alfalfans called themselves "the best men in the United States." No doubt, many these days do indeed consider themselves the crème de la crème, though they are no longer just men, no longer just white men, as once was the case. (Black members gained admission in the 1970s.)

They number 239, and they are senators, cabinet secretaries, judges, justices, generals, businessmen, billionaires and various movers, shakers, muckety-mucks and power brokers of the Henry Kissinger-Vernon Jordan variety. With their guests, they swelled to about 500 for a dinner that was drenched, yes, with the powerful, but largely bereft of those who seek the highest power in the land. No Hillary. No Obama. No Edwards.

But there was, as always, a Bush. Several Bushes. And President George W. Bush, who has attended Alfalfa every year of his presidency, once again served as the chief executive of comedy with a blast of one-liners that seemed hilarious, if only on the printed page. And that, dear reader, is all we can go on, since part of the exclusivity of the Alfalfa Club dinner includes a bar against press attendance -- the better to let the nation's "best men" and women let loose.

"In our very first meeting, Speaker Pelosi told me her number one priority was helping the unemployed, so, Jeb, I gave her your number."

That was Bush, according to his remarks.

"It's kind of embarrassing. One day he's governor of Florida. The next day he's moved back in with mom and dad. It occurred to me last week that if Senator Clinton wins in 2008, the last four presidents will be a Bush, a Clinton, a Bush, a Clinton. So hang in there, Jebbie."

But let's digress a bit. Not everything Alfalfan is funny. Some of its oddities are downright vexing. It was founded in 1913, for instance, by a quartet of Southern gentlemen, at least one of whom was a Confederate veteran. Perhaps this is why the annual dinners are timed, even now, to roughly coincide with the Jan. 19 birth date of that Confederate general, Robert E. Lee.

It is such an obscure factoid that an informal poll of some of last night's revelers produced none who'd ever known this to be true -- and who apparently would rather not have been asked, judging by the defensiveness that ensued.

"I don't think that has any meaning today," Sen. Norm Coleman (R-Minn.) said of the Confederate connection. "I will be sitting across the table from Kenneth Chenault, the African American chair of American Express."

Jack Kemp hadn't heard of the Confederate connection either. But what really got him was the other part of our informal poll, the part about the war. You see, a reading of Alfalfa Club history reveals that the group suspended its annual dinners during World War II and the Korean War.

Asked if he had any thoughts on the issue, Kemp said, "Come on! Come on!" rather impatiently, as if the evening's bubble were being pierced by unwelcome seriousness.

"There's certain things that should be canceled. I don't think this should be canceled," he said before walking away.

Retired Army Gen. Tommy Frankstook a moment to ponder the question of partying during wartime.

"I don't think this demeans the service of our young men and women, who are as they have been since 9/11, out there working hard tonight just like they were today, just like they were yesterday," Franks said.

Partying, he continued, "is okay with me as long as we remember the kids and continue to respect what they're doing."

And so the Alfalfans conducted the merriment as they always do. The seniormost Alfalfan at the dinner was a 92-year-old former senator Harry Flood Byrd Jr., who's attended every dinner since 1938.

The club introduced new sprouts, or members, which this year included New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, Rep. Jane Harman, Supreme Court Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr., and Secretary of Labor Elaine L. Chao. Sen. Mitch McConnell, Chao's husband, handed off the presidency of the Alfalfa Club to Gen. P.X. Kelley, retired U.S. Marine Corps commandant, explaining along the way just why alfalfa provides the name of the club.

"Put it this way: The alfalfa plant digs deep for a drink. That is true. And if it digs any deeper it will hit my party's approval ratings."

And on it went among the nation's "best."

Watching this illustrious assemblage of hundreds as they strutted and swished into the hotel lobby, John Fabrizi, mayor of Bridgeport, Conn., in town for a conference, offered his contextual analysis.

"This is a very elite group that has direct economic impact on America and the world. You have a mix of elected officials and a lot of business folks here tonight. So I hope they enjoy themselves and get back to work on Monday morning."

Bada-BING!