As George W. Bush is fond of pointing out, Texas is not Washington. And the fund-raiser earlier
this month for Democratic state Rep. Robby Cook certainly wasn't your typical Capitol Hill wine
and cheese reception.
The invitation for the Oct. 4 event -- a fish fry and skeet shoot -- was printed on camouflage
paper. An hour outside of Austin and three miles off the highway, donors drove pick-up trucks
and Jaguars over a cattle guard to a ranch house where a young woman sat on a wooden fence
handing out name tags and ammo bags.
Inside, supporters, most of whom were wearing hunting caps and almost none of whom were
wearing ties, sipped cans of Miller Lite and watched as large men tending vats of boiling oil fried
breaded catfish and potatoes.
When the crack of shot hitting skeet ended, the donors gathered under a tent for a gun auction,
with Republican state Rep. Edwin Kuempel serving as barker. The event raised nearly $15,000,
including the $975 that one supporter paid for a shiny new shotgun.
A group whose power is not in question in Texas politics is "The Lobby," as those who practice
the art of influence-peddling in Austin refer to themselves. Unlike in Washington, where power
is diffuse and battles are constant, in the Texas legislature, The Lobby has a free hand.
A lot of that is structural: The legislature meets for only six weeks every two years, has a small,
low-paid staff, and is so business-friendly that its liberal members supported tort reform. And
with no limit on campaign contributions, there is little incentive for members to resist big
business.
"There's absolutely nothing that the real Texas establishment wants that they don't get," says
Charlie Wilson, a former member of the Texas legislature and a former Democratic congressman
who is now a lobbyist in Washington, D.C. with Hooper Owen & Winburn.
And while the old days of the "three Bs" -- beef, booze, and blondes -- are pretty much over now,
hunting trips and Gulf Coast fishing junkets still take place despite the passage of ethics reform
in the administration of former Gov. Ann Richards. The law is riddled with loopholes, says Jim
Marsten, who served four years as vice chairman of a state ethics commission before resigning
because he believed the reform commission was not working.
And lawmakers can still go on hunting trips paid for by lobbyists -- they just need to do it as a
fund-raiser. A member may hold a fund-raiser hunting trip at $5,000 a pop and bring 50 lobbyists
along.