Snow day with the White House science advisor

I’m a sucker for all that patriotic stuff in Washington, DC. I buy all the touristy trinkets, like my handkerchief that doubles as a map of the inauguration route. Of course, I’ve always wanted to visit the White House. I want to see my tax dollars at work. The closest I’ve gotten is like most everyone else, standing forlornly at 1601 Pennsylvania Avenue (across the street from the White House). I once thought I might have a chance, back when I covered a presidential campaign. My guy lost. On election night I was the second most disappointed person in the room.

So, when I got assigned to produce an interview about the Obama Administration’s policies on climate change with Dr. John Holdren, the head of the White House Office of Science and Technology, I was stoked. Then came the reality check. The White House science advisor doesn’t work in the White House. Like most of the White House staff, he works across the driveway from the West Wing in the Old Executive Office Building.

Doing an interview next door comes with all the same rules and regulations and inconveniences of going to the White House, just without the cache of saying you were there. And then there was bad weather.

The long scheduled February interview with Dr. Holdren and TechKnow’s Lindsay Moran came head to head with one of Washington’s biggest snowstorms of the year. As the crew and I landed from California, I was getting texts from Dr. Holdren’s press person. Snow emergency! The Federal Government was shutting down! We’d have to postpone for a few days.

Now, I’m thinking that we are all here and we’re supposed to fly out to Miami the next day.  We can’t wait. I plead, I whine, I cajole. For heaven sakes, this is Washington, named after the guy who crossed the Delaware in bone chilling cold with no Uggs.

In short order they relented. And this SoCal gal spent the night before the interview reveling in 5 inches of snow: making snow angels, throwing snowballs at no one, drinking instant hot chocolate from the mini bar back in the room. My revelry will remain a secret to my friends and family in the Northeast who have had to endure this year’s avalanche of snowstorms, unless of course they read this.

The day of the interview Washington was a bit of a ghost town with the federal government closed. Good for us, easy parking. But we still had to trudge through the slush with our equipment cart (the one with the broken wheel going thwack, thwack, thwack) unloading the gear for the security check, loading the gear back up, unloading the gear to go down the steps, loading it to go up the ramp, until we were ordered to freeze.

A couple of black SUV’s aggressively stopped at the White House side entrance. Out popped Vice President Joe Biden. He kinda makes you want to yell out “Hey Joe! Come on over to talk climate change!” But the Secret Service guys scared me. And the Veep disappeared as quickly as his armada came. He was on his way to the swearing in of the new Secretary of Defense, Ashton Carter. You know, the one where Mr. Biden whispers a little uncomfortably close into in Carter’s wife’s ear? Ah, this close to history.

The Old Executive Office Building, officially the Eisenhower Executive Office Building took 17 years to build, from 1871 to 1888 and reflects the taste of the time. And the fancy French Renaissance style granite building originally housed the State, War and Navy Departments.

Since everyone had a snow day, the halls were quiet except for our thwack, thwack, thwack. Our escort pointed out little fossilized sea creatures in marble tile, the embossed brass doorknobs, the VRU (Victim Rescue Unit) cabinet that holds emergency hoods in case of some fire or chemical disaster and the Department of the Navy Commissary “Soda Issue” room.

We were set up in Room 236. From 1888 to 1938 an Assistant Secretary of War worked there. No cubicle for him, no sir. The walls are ornately etched in gold plasterwork that looks like hundreds of little fans. The fireplace is big and imposing marble and sitting on top is a cannonball from the Civil War. There was even a newspaper from the Civil War. (Remember newspapers?) Behind a heavily upholstered couch was an ancient radio, I’m guessing from the World War Two era. Maybe it was an homage to the fact that President Obama has used this room to record his weekly radio address.

I took a little stroll alone to the ladies room. The heavy wooden door weighed about the same as my car. As I slowly walked back I was confronted with a posse of men in sweaters and jeans. I’ve watched West Wing and Madam Secretary. Aren’t these guys supposed to be in black suits and blue ties? “What are you doing here on a federally mandated snow day?” I asked. “I was invited to come to work by my boss,” each one said with emphasis on “invited” and punctuated with a sly smile. It must be a Washington mantra. Then each one pulled out a cellphone, put it into a tiny little locker and entered a room. A piece of paper tacked to the door warned all those who enter to come in unconnected.  As the door shut, I saw the sign for the room “OMB,” Office of Management and Budget. And there it was, my tax dollars at work in Washington.