by John Aloysius Farrell
Boston Globe, June 19, 1991
 

WASHINGTON / NOTEBOOK

Washington is famous for its bicycle messengers: lean guys and gals in Lycra on 10-speeds who don't bother to blink at red lights as they keep the stream of paper flowing from office to office in the nation's capital.

As a tribe, they share a certain mystique that calls for fluorescent clothing, surfer-punk haircuts, cultivation of an attitude, and the occasional strategically placed tattoo.

The rise of the fax machine has cut into business, however, and some of the messengers have been forced to enter symbiotic relationships with high-priced lobbyists and lawyers who ride limousines around town.

As the lobbying industry grows, it has become harder to find a seat at congressional events. And so it is not unusual to find, as at Tuesday's hearing of a House Energy and Commerce subcommittee, one or two gearheads in full regalia, nodding their heads to the music on their Walkmans as they make money holding seats for the lobbyists who have hired them to reserve chairs in the crowded hearing room.