Howard Marlowe is a lobbyist's lobbyist. That is to say, he's the president of the American League of Lobbyists. For 27 years he has also been the head of Marlowe & Co., a small firm with only 10 employees and about 45 clients that caters mostly to city and county governments.
We recently sat down with Mr. Marlowe at his office on K Street in Washington, D.C. He speaks in a soft, gentle voice, with a subtle twang audible on words like 'client.' He says the twang comes from his wife, a Southerner (he's from upstate New York). He's got big teeth and art deco glasses, the kind you might see on the cover of an Ayn Rand novel. He was once a teacher and later legislative director for Senator Vance Hartke of Indiana.
Marlowe said he takes ethics very seriously — more seriously than most other lobbyists. And he's proud of his job, proud to have helped his clients get things built — like better beaches and sewage treatment plants. What follows is a peek into the world of lobbying in the words of a lobbyist.
In a small two-bedroom apartment in Van Nuys with brown shag carpeting and a cottage cheese ceiling, a French kid named Alexis sits at a desk with headphones, staring at his MacBook through black-frame glasses. As Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik plays from a boom box, Alexis' computer dials phone numbers until someone picks up. He speaks with a noticeable but not thick French accent, reading from a script:
"Hello, Maria? My name is Alex, I'm a volunteer calling about the important city council election on March 8th. Have you already voted?"
A pause, and some back-and-forth about mail-in-ballots.
"I would like to know who you are going to vote for for city council. Oh. Well, I'm supporting Rich Goodman. He's a good man for city council. He just received the L.A. Times endorsement two days ago. He's a Democrat with strong ethics and moral integrity, believes that our taxes should go to our neighborhoods and to improve our streets and sidewalks."
This scene, in this little apartment, this is how you run for Los Angeles City Council on less than $4,000. You get friends (including your dad) and perhaps a few random strangers to volunteer, making phone calls and knocking on doors.