Our Clubs

“It happens to be a matter of record that I was first in print with the discovery that the tastelessness of the food offered in American clubs varies in direct proportion to the exclusiveness of the club” wrote Calvin Trillin. And while it may be true (despite the brown-sugared bacon bits at The Raquet Club in Saint Louis), the fact is we don’t join clubs for the food.

Algonquin Club, Boston.

We once joined clubs for social standing, but with even Augusta National memberships on the market today, money is a much better key to the clubhouse than it once was. Still, social pretense was only ever the backdrop to the private club’s main draw: a relaxed, friendly environment, removed from worldly pressures, in which members could count on one another’s manners, loyalty, and taste. In today’s reality-television world, such escape into manners and taste is all the more necessary and, ironically, less-attainable: few are able to duck out for martini lunches at the club anymore.

Army Navy Club, Washington, D.C.

And so, since we can’t repair to the club at our leisure, we can at least bring part of it to us: presented here, a brief tour of some of the notables. Unfortunately absent: The New York Athletic Club and the Yale Club.

Cosmos Club, Washington, D.C.

Oxford Cambridge Club, London.

Saint Louis Club, Saint Louis.

Union League Club, Philadelphia.

University Club, Washington, D.C.

Harvard Club, Boston.

There and Back Again

Senator Arlen Specter’s recent departure from the Grand Old Party surprised many, not the least of which were his Republican constituents.

The defection accomplished, if nothing else, that great and feckless collegiate goal of “promoting dialogue.” But unlike student protests and candlelight vigils about free-trade coffee, this dialogue might actually produce something: a re-animated, realistic Republican party.

Traitor, Drawn & Quartered.

The Senator’s move left inter-Republican battle lines clearly drawn. Mike Huckabee took the helm on one side, Senator Lindsey Graham on the other. Huckabee’s stance: good riddance. Graham’s: we’ve lost another vote, are you happy now? While many have desired a Republican party of more pure ideals, ideals don’t win democratic elections. Majorities do, and majorities are only ever formed through compromise.

Idealism is pleasant, but often impractical, and political parties aren’t religions able to dictate doctrine from some central authority. Rather, parties are dynamic and fluid, shaped by members and events. The difference is unfortunate in this case, because religions realize, at least, that power comes from converts, not ex-communicates. Lapsed believers make poor apostles. And, as in American churches, the hard-liners of any party will suffer defections at the cost of their ideals. But churches have the luxury of holding to idealism; they don’t need to win elections.

Ideals, of course, are important; they’re the difference between one party and the other. But so is dialogue. It’s how ideals are hashed out, strengthened, and made presentable. William F. Buckley, long the face of conservatism, was known most for his gentlemanly debating. One shudders to think what the refined Buckley would say of Sean Hannity. Republican ideals have traditionally, and rightly, included fiscal conservatism, limited Federal government, military strength, and entrepreneurship. They have not included fiery radio rhetoric and internal division. Nor have they included unwavering adherence to the party line.  

A Republican future doesn’t lie in ideological entrance exams for would-be standard-bearers. It lies in realistic courtship of voters attracted to some, if not all, of the GOP message, and of party members and party candidates diverse enough to win in every state of the Union.

Mission Accomplished, And Billable

Attorney Robert Lee Aston, of Elberton, Georgia, has taken some tough cases of late. Each new defendant is a powerful bureaucracy, and each new client is tough and uncompromising.

Actually, each new defendant is the same: the United States military, and each new client is a World War II veteran. As the Greatest Generation ages, it wants the recognition it’s due, especially if such came at the cost of great personal sacrifice. And so Aston, himself a veteran of the Army Air Corps, has signed up a good deal of new business representing other veterans seeking the medals, honors, and recognition they’re due.

To date, Aston has helped 63 veterans secure overdue honors, from a Distinguished Service Cross to his own Silver Star. “Obtaining a medal is largely a documentary process,” Aston says. Veterans must prove their gallantry and risk before a formal board of review, which rejects almost all honors petitions. What follows is an appeal, at which Aston excels. If things go well there, medals are forthcoming.

“What I enjoy most is the thank-yous and the gratitude,” Aston says. “They are so happy about it.”