These are tough times in Washington. Federal employees don’t know from one day to the next whether they’ll still have a job. Reporters fear their editors won’t back them up if they’re too hard on reporting the truth about President Trump. Lobbyists scan their client list to make sure none can be blackballed as “DEI.” Republican politicians worry about being primaried. Democrats worry about being dismissed as irrelevant.
All that angst! But, according to a recent survey in the New York Times, that stress is minor compared to the biggest existential crisis facing younger, political and socially-ambitious Washingtonians today: What private club shall I join to further my career and, maybe, have fun along the way?
Let’s be honest. The choices are not great, starting with what is probably still Washington’s most prestigious private club, the Metropolitan Club, nestled in a drab high rise near the White House. It has a roster of famous Washington establishment names — I once chatted up Vice President Dick Cheney there — but if you’re looking for signs of life, you’d be better off at Congressional Cemetery.
Next up, the Cosmos Club, located in a beautiful Beaux-Arts mansion on Massachusetts Avenue, near Dupont Circle. Like San Francisco’s Bohemian Club, the Cosmos Club is home to artists, writers and intellectuals. Its walls are covered with photos of members who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize. But, again, it’s atmosphere is quiet, if not moribund.
But now there are two alternatives. Ned’s Club, which opened in late January, across from the Treasury Department, with a $5,000 initiation fee plus an annual $5,000 membership fee. Aiming to attract younger professionals from both parties, Ned’s has already signed up 1,500 major players in the current and past administrations, as well as several big-name journalists. If that’s your idea of a good time, “half the lobbyists in town are always there,” one unnamed member told the Times.
The Executive Branch, opening this month, is Washington’s most exclusive private club, created by a group of investors led by Donald Trump Jr. in an subterranean cavern under a Georgetown shopping mall. With a membership fee of $500,000, the Executive Branch is clearly a place where MAGA moguls and government officials — and maybe even POTUS himself — can hoist a drink without fear of rubbing elbows with someone not wearing a MAGA hat.
If you’re not sure what club to join, here’s the obvious answer: Don’t join any of them. To make it in Washington, you don’t really have to. There are plenty of power pits in DC you can get into for just the price of a meal.
No place speaks Washington politics and power like The Palm restaurant, where caricatures of past and present big shots stare down at you from the walls. Legendary lobbyists like Tommy Boggs and Chuck Manatt had their own tables here. At Friday lunch, chances are you’ll see former Virginia Gov. Terry McAuliffe (D) holding court.
Joe’s Seafood, Prime Steak and Stone Crab, in a renovated bank at the corner of 15th and H, NW, a block from Lafayette Park, is another favorite for Republican and Democratic operatives. Dinner at the Capitol Grill, near the Capitol, is like dinner in the House GOP Caucus: swap stories with House Majority Leader Steve Scalise (R-La.). Or join Trump insiders led by frequent diner Steve Bannon at Butterworth’s, on Capitol Hill.
Trattorio Alberto, on Barracks Row, once former House Speaker John Boehner’s (R-Ohio) hideaway, nightly hosts Congress members and staffers from both sides of the aisle. The Tune Inn remains Washington’s classic, no-frills, grungy bar. And there’s still no better place to see and be seen by the politically powerful than Georgetown’s Café Milano.
The point is: With so many free alternatives, there’s no need to join a private club to help you climb the political, professional and social ladder.
In fact, when it comes to joining clubs, the leading authority is the great Groucho Marx. He once applied for membership in the Los Angeles chapter of the Friars Club. But, once accepted, he declined the invitation, citing a busy schedule. Club managers objected, insisting there must be something else.
“I do have another reason,” Groucho wrote back promptly. “I didn’t want to tell you, but since you’ve forced the issue: I just don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.”
That Groucho philosophy of not joining any club has enabled me to survive and thrive in the highly-competitive worlds of San Francisco, Los Angeles and Washington. I highly recommend it.
Bill Press is host of “The Bill Press Pod.” He is the author of “From the Left: A Life in the Crossfire.”