Foxy Congressperson of the Week: Representative Marsha Blackburn

This week, as I began my usual process of casting about for Congresspeople who can pass as attractive when seen from afar, I was saved from the trouble by one of my compatriots here in Washington. While we were sitting around waiting for class to start one day, my friend turned to me and said “Marsha Blackburn is kind of a MILF.” As far as I’m concerned, that’s a done deal.

Blackburn has been representing Tennessee’s seventh district since 2003 and the Congressman she replaced was not too shabby himself, so the lucky residents of Tennessee’s most gerrymandered district have been living in a paradise of attractive federal representation since 1995.  For the rest of us, who have to deal with the representation of congresspeople who are average-looking at best, this seems like a cruel joke.  However, in times of legislative jealousy, it is important to remember that coveting your neighbor’s congresswoman is a fruitless enterprise.  The sad truth is that old men from the Northeast will never be quite as foxy as former Southern belles, and there is nothing we can do about it.

Blackburn’s days as a Southern belle may have technically ended a long time ago, but even at 59 she still looks like she could have just walked out of the Chi-O house wearing pearls on her way to a Sunday morning church service. And she has managed the feat without obvious levels of Botox, which is an accomplishment in itself. Blackburn has added to her Southern charm by founding the Congressional Songwriter’s Caucus.

When I first learned about this, I imagined a bunch of congresspeople sitting around playing the guitar and writing songs about the difficulties of a life lived without compromise or rationality, but apparently the caucus actually deals with intellectual property issues and royalties. So that’s less fun. Blackburn won a “Grammys on the Hill” award for her work on the caucus which begs the question: is there a self-serving award Congress hasn’t created for itself?

Anyway, my bitterness with Congress aside, I made my trip to the hill this week to award Representative Blackburn with her much-deserved Foxy Congress certificate. After wating while a few interns who refused to take off their jewelry held up the line at the metal detector, I made my way to Rep. Blackburn’s office, where I explained my mission to her intern, who declared the award “hilarious” and assured me she would show it around. She declined to have her picture taken, which I would probably do too if a random stranger showed up at my office with a certificate for my boss based purely on physical attractiveness.

On my way out of Cannon, I walked past a young woman in the stairway who was having a loud-ish fight with her boyfriend over cell phone. This marks the second time in five trips to the Hill that I have witnessed a female intern arguing with a boyfriend about whether her Hill internship is too demanding. So I would like to take this opportunity to send a message to the ladies of the Hill: If your boyfriend is making you cry in the stairway of a federal office building you should probably dump him. Also, I have a new strategy to achieve a more legitimate response from the offices I visit, which involves actual legislative questions and a little brown-nosing of press staff. Stay tuned!