I'll admit, I didn't have the highest expectations for our first Valentine's Day as husband and wife. I was afraid that with marriage would come a tapering off of certain romantic attentions. But to my delight, my husband surprised me not only with long-stemmed red roses at the office, but also with something I had wanted for the longest time: a private tour of the White House.
Part of the fun of living in Washington is having friends in high places, and a friend of my husband's has been on the permanent staff at the White House since early in the first Bush administration. After an elaborate check-in process at the East Gate, complete with a search for weapons, we were buzzed in, and our friend joined us.
Right away, we could sense the excitement of the transition. As we made our way down corridors and up stairways, every staff member we ran into compared notes with our friend: "How do you like it so far?"
Some seemed to be in a state of amazement at having reliable hours and weekends off for the first time in years. Several commented on the new efficiency that has overtaken the White House or expressed open admiration of the Bushes. By contrast, no one seemed eager to talk about the former occupants.
As we toured the ground floor of the main house, our friend told us about events that had happened in each of the famous reception rooms. We lingered in the China Room. If you can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats his horse, what can you tell about a president from his china pattern, I wondered? Woodrow Wilson's china was stately and presidential. George and Barbara Bush simply added an oval platter, white with a red rim, to an existing White House set of dishes. It was tasteful and understated, much as I hear the elder Bushes are themselves. The Clintons ordered new china. It's ivory with a thick rim of gold.
As we left the China Room, another staff member rushed up to our friend with a large photo of himself and a recent White House visitor. A national celebrity or foreign president, I assumed, or maybe royalty. Several other staffers gathered around to look. Impressive VIPs walk these halls every day, I thought. I was surprised when it turned out the man in the picture was an aging Tom Wopat, from The Dukes of Hazzard, a show that went off the air over fifteen years ago.
In the main hallway, below the great stairs leading to the private residence, the guard told us that the president had gone outside, as is his nightly ritual. He was walking his dog, Spot. I whispered to my husband, "I love this guy!" My husband and the guard smiled at me. I asked about Barney, the new puppy; he turned out to be in Texas with Mrs. Bush. The Bushes have a cat, too.
Our tour wouldn't have been complete without a visit to the West Wing. In the Oval Office, we saw the pastel rug that has replaced Bill Clinton's bright blue one, as I'd read in the paper. Pictures of Bush's wife and twin daughters were on the table behind his desk. Our friend pointed out the small office off to the right, saying, "Sometimes President Clinton had private lunches in there." We looked at each other and held our tongues. It was an awkward, unpleasant moment.
A couple of the staffers we encountered were effusive about how courteous and punctual the new president is. One flashed me a glimpse of Bush's daily agenda. "See all the circles?" the staffer said. "That means he accomplished each task or meeting on time. He gets a lot done." I came away thinking maybe no man is a hero to his own valet -- unless he sticks to his schedule.
As we wound up our tour, I felt inspired by the mood of respect and even enthusiasm for the new president. And I was grateful to our friend, a true romantic, who'd stayed at work late on Valentine's Day to give us our personal tour. It was my favorite Valentine's surprise ever.
Now I can't wait for our first anniversary (hint: Air Force One).
LAUREN TROTTA HUSTED