The Rain Of Dollars

By Richard Lacayo

Everybody complains that political conventions have declined into nothing more than predictable TV shows. Not so. The conventions have declined into predictable TV shows and shameless off-camera fund-raising orgies. So last week there was one Republican Convention on the big stage, where the newly domesticated party leaders felt your pain and the gospel choirs whooped. But the real sounds of Hallelujah! were going on at the other convention. That one took place all around town at the lobster-and-champagne galas corporate donors gave for their favorite members of Congress and the Republicans gave right back to thank their major contributors, long and hard, before shaking them down again.

By one estimate, there were as many as 900 such celebrations. But the G.O.P. is a party with a lot to celebrate. At the end of July, it closed the books on the biggest fund-raising month in its history--nearly $38 million in just 31 days. Cash is the Ecstasy of politics. On Tuesday afternoon, just a day after Colin Powell took the podium to blast "affirmative action for lobbyists," giddy Republican fund raisers met at the Westin Hotel to marvel at the cash flow as it gusted through the party ledgers. "This is unbelievable," one exulted. "We've never had a year like this!"

Or a convention so muscle-bound with money. At the downtown hotels, there were limos too long to turn into the oval drives. At the airport, there was Learjet gridlock. Everywhere there was Representative Tom DeLay, House Republican whip, chief money pumper and master of the revels, who spent the week stroking donors in a series of private vintage railway cars, which just happened to be the defining perk of the robber barons of the last Gilded Age.

Union Pacific supplied the cars. And AT&T held a $500-a-person golf tournament/fund raiser to honor Montana Senator Conrad Burns, chairman of the Commerce, Science and Transportation Communications Subcommittee, which happens to oversee AT&T. Even some companies that banned soft-money contributions to either party made "in-kind" contributions. General Motors provided 400 vehicles to ferry people around. Time Warner and several other big media companies sponsored a glittery tribute to House members at a dance club.

When the two conventions crossed paths, it was usually in corporate skyboxes high above the floor where big donors rubbed shoulders with big Republicans while the convention went forward on TV sets hardly anybody bothered to watch. Why would they? Eye contact with the power brokers of Congress was the real point of the proceedings. In the skybox suite for House Speaker Dennis Hastert, a lobbyist for Union Pacific fretted on Tuesday night that the Speaker had not shown up yet. "My entire board of directors is coming down tomorrow," she said. "They're going to be disappointed if they don't get face time."

For members of the press, face time was a problem. Some gatherings were harder to get into than that fancy sex party in Eyes Wide Shut. When a reporter was discovered, there was likely to be somebody shouting for security. But if you missed the cash bash in Philadelphia, don't worry. It will all be repeated at the Democratic Convention next week in Los Angeles. Plans are already under way for the reception at Armani on Rodeo Drive. As you may have heard, the other team also plays this game with authority.

--By Richard Lacayo