Capitol Hill even has a self-appointed attire inspector—congressional aide Robert Primus, who some years ago conducted a news conference with Politico to bemoan, “I always say that staff should not look like tourists.” Were Primus mistaken for a tourist last week during his video-streamed Senate Commerce Committee confirmation hearing for a seat on the Surface Transportation Board (STB), it surely wasn’t to avoid paparazzi. Perhaps among his quests is an upcoming cover of GQ. Indeed, smartphone messaging apps were in a sustained state of alert as he came in camera view—text popping up in whack-a-mole manner with iterations of, “Did you see …” and “Are you seeing …” As is said of Primus’ White House nomination benefactor, Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.), the most dangerous place in Washington is between Chuck and a camera—and there may be some mimicry. Alas, there will be time anon for Primus—assuming an expected confirmation—to inhabit stage center, but maybe more in the manner of former New York Mayor Ed Koch and his consummate query, “How am I doin’?” Before dignified Senate committees, the recommended dress code is not an impersonation of the NBC Peacock. Primus said as much at his June 2008 Politico press conference when working as chief of staff to Rep. Michael E. Capuano (D-Mass.): “In the absence of a uniform dress code on Capitol Hill, it’s every office for itself” (paraphrased by Politico). “I know that you’ve got to look the part before people even take you serious enough,” Primus was quoted. Capitol Hill sartorial serious, of course, is Brooks Brothers for the well-heeled elected, and Jos A. Bank for staff with less disposable income. Yet with both brands now struggling under the gavel of bankruptcy courts, and e-commerce delivering overnight, Primus may be looking left, to flashier West Hollywood, rather than right, to button-down Saville Row across the Pond. Alas, it wasn’t so long ago—but 90 miles or so south of Capitol Hill in Richmond—that a Virginia House of Delegates member was admonished by peers for disrespecting the chamber of Mr. Jefferson by wearing attire woven from—gulp!—polyester. Oh, how times are a changin’. Notably, the path trod by parading corporate lobbyists plodding constantly between congressional offices has long been termed, “Gucci Gulch,” but charge cards for such snobbish fashion typically are acquired through the revolving door to post-government employment—and there is no shortage of former rail regulators who partook of that income boost. Bide thy time, sir. We are not necessarily picking on Mr. Primus. The STB and its predecessor Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) has hosted other fashionistas: William Douglas Buttrey (2004-2009) often sported so large a bow tie that some wondered if a portion of him might suddenly take to flight. Gus A. Owen (1994-1998) had for winter wear a genuine full-length fur coat once worn by Rock Hudson. Frederic N. Andre (1982-1989) asked friends whether he should wear to his confirmation hearing his early-in-life employment United Van Lines uniform. He didn’t, but did show up on his first day at the ICC in a necktie with images of 18th century political economist Adam Smith. Virginia Mae “Peaches” Brown (1964-1979) decorated her office in purple carpeting, lavender drapes, lavender wall colors and lavender-tinted mirrors in a harlequin pattern. Virginia Mae “Peaches” Brown was the first woman to head a U.S. federal regulatory agency by being elected Chairman of the Interstate Commerce Commission. Fact is, ain’t much a happenin’ at the STB these days. Waggish older heads recall the April 2, 1977, Business Week article describing the ICC as “an agency so soporific, so hideously encrusted with tradition, so hopelessly bereft of initiative that even the houseflies that wander in forget how to buzz.” Less is more for railroads, of course, but not captive shippers, waiting, waiting, waiting and waiting—and still waiting—for conclusion of numerous rulemakings affecting the protections afforded them in the 1980 Staggers Rail Act, and of which the STB was reminded by a Republican-controlled House and Senate in 2015. STB member Martin Oberman frequently sports a bow tie, but much more, shall we say, “restrained.” That 2015 Surface Transportation Board Reauthorization Act instructed the agency to git a movin’, and increased its number of Senate-confirmed seats from three to five. One of those vacant seats awaits Primus, should he be confirmed; the other, Michelle A. Schultz, who twice has been recommended for confirmation by the Commerce Committee, but has been in limbo awaiting a Democratic nominee—presumably, Mr. Primus. If those vacancies are what has kept the rulemakings in similar limbo land, the houseflies may soon be back to buzzin,’ and Mr. Primus will have deserved opportunity to create at the STB a more distinguished legacy than his attire. Given his background, there is every reason to expect so. Although our Capitol Hill correspondent, Mr. Wilner, was more frequently seen in Brooks Brothers attire during his many years on the fringes of Capitol Hill, he had his own brand of fashion during off-hours. Capitol Hill Contributing Editor Frank N. Wilner is author of six books, among them Amtrak: Past, Present, Future; Understanding the Railway Labor Act; and Railroad Mergers: History, Analysis, Insight, all published by Simmons-Boardman Books. Wilner earned undergraduate and graduate degrees in economics and labor relations from Virginia Tech. He has been Assistant Vice President, Policy at the Association of American Railroads; a White House appointed chief of staff at the Surface Transportation Board; and director of public relations for the United Transportation Union. He is a past president of the Association of Transportation Law Professionals. Wilner drafted the railroad section of the Heritage Foundation’s Mandate for Leadership (Volumes I and II), which were policy blueprints for the two Reagan Administrations; and was a guest columnist for the Cato Institute’s Regulation magazine. The post STB Nominee: Call Him “Flash” appeared first on Railway Age. Continue reading...
