I lived in the Washington DC suburbs from the early to mid 1960s. One day I decided to play hookey from high school and go for a stroll to the US Capitol. I just wandered around the place reading the plaques, watching the people and soaking in the atmosphere of power.
I discovered I could go to any Congressional or Senate hearing I wanted - just read the sign outside each of the rooms, decide whether it piqued my interest, walk in and sit right down and listen.
It was great. People talking to each other with decorum and deference. Serious questions and answers mixed with dashes of humor. There was no live TV coverage back then, so I suppose that would have explained the lack of grandstanding that is so commonplace now.
"So this is how adults act?" I thought to myself.
I discovered that I could visit the office of Congressmen and Senators. Some polite receptionist or aide would always ask if they could help me, and I discovered I could ask a question and someone would come out from an office to sit down and talk to me. I didn't have an appointment and they tried to answer the dumb, high school questions I had. Questions like, "What are the chances of me getting drafted after I turn 18?"
They treated me like a soon-to-be, potential voter, I suppose, since they were always polite. If someone didn't have an answer though, they asked for my address and I got many letters, signed by the Congessman or Senator, with a reply. I even got some straight-forward answers.
I recognized Senator Everett Dirkson (the Senate Republican Minority Leader) as he was walking down a hallway, and he stopped and shook my hand, even looking into, and not past, my eyes. He was one of the most visible senators in the new media of television. He is credited with the quote, "A billion dollars here, a billion dollars there; pretty soon we're talking about real money."
There is no record of him ever saying that, but the story goes that a newspaper reporter got the quote wrong, but it sounded so good that he couldn't deny it.
"Could I ask you a few questions?" I asked him.
He looked at his watch and said he was on his way to a hearing, but said, "Of course you can, if you don't mind walking with me to the hearing."
I started asking him some questions about the war in Vietnam - it looked like there was no end in sight. He waved me past the guards as we headed to the little subway. There is (or was) a small subway that only Congress can use to travel back and forth from either end of the capitol building. It looked like a Disney teacup ride. The cars were open and 4 people could sit 2 X 2 across from each other. The Disney reference certainly seems appropriate today...
He answered all my questions honestly, I think. He did love to talk, though... He didn't ask where I lived or if I would be a voter in his state. He didn't patronize me. If he didn't have a good answer, he said so.
His easily recognizable bass voice telling me, "I just don't have an answer for that right now."
When we got to the end of the line, he said he'd try to find an answer to a question I had about the budget, since he was always outspoken about government spending. He was an interesting guy, but his young assistant with the armful of papers in the tight skirt and high heels sitting next to him seemed more interesting at the time...
She took my name and address and I had more than a few 17 year-old fantasies about her writing me a letter, but it never happened. But, I did get a letter from Senator Dirkson answering my question about a week later.
Having that kind of experience during a time in our lives that we all remember so well still gives me hope that good men exist. Can we find them and convince them to run in the minefield of 'gotcha' politics and media now? I think I had a better chance of getting that fantasy letter from the assistant.
[added] I don't want you to burst a vein over this Hangtime, so please remember that I'm only the messenger... It isn't $50 billion spent. The total, long-term cost (most of which is off-budget now) is 50 billion $20 bills. So far, the total extended costs exceed $1 trillion.