Washington Monument

An inside look

VANITIES

David Brinkley and his wife, Susan.

When asked whom they would most like to meet, important visitors to Washington often mention David Brinkley's name before those of the senators and Cabinet secretaries who are, after all, merely guests on his Sundaymorning program. But Brinkley is a civilized curmudgeon and fussy about

whom he associates with. He was quite happy to talk politics over cocktails with my mother and mother-inlaw (eighty and eighty-five, respectively), who watch his show in Winnipeg, but my husband and I had quite a time persuading him to attend a largish black-tie affair for a foreign dignitary. Once, a very prominent individual asked us if we could arrange a dinner with Brinkley, and to "set any date he likes." David accepted when we told him there would be only eight of us, seated informally at a round table. He arrived with a fever of 104. And, pale and sweating, discoursed throughout the evening in his civilized southern manner on the price of eggs and the fall of kings. After the visitor left, David collapsed. "I promised," he said, "and I believe in keeping my word."

Unlike many journalists, Brinkley hates parties where a lot of "neck stretching" occurs. He prefers to sit and chat with the wife of an old friend, avoiding political exchanges with the latest national-security adviser. He has

many friends in the media, though he despises "the blackbird syndrome." "Have you ever seen the row of blackbirds on a clothesline? The silliest one flies off and all the other birds follow for no good reason."

Politically, Brinkley is a moderate conservative. He believes that the middle class elected President Reagan because they were tired of paying taxes whose benefits went to everyone but themselves. "Americans have been poorly served by Congress. It's become an abominable automatic money machine that spends without a thought for the people it represents. Most congressmen are in there for life, so what do they care?"

Occasionally Brinkley has to con-

verse with a new undersecretary of something or other whose particular job he's forgotten. After forty years in Washington, Brinkley's developed the perfect ploy for finding out. "What are you doing?" he asks. The bureaucrat bristles slightly and tells Brinkley his new position. "I know that," David replies. "But what are you doing at this moment?"

Brinkley's true loves are his wife, Susan, architecture, and seeing old friends. These include Senator Robert Dole, Robert Strauss, Lew Wasserman, Lane Kirkland, and Tom Braden. Toasting David at a dinner in his honor, Lesley Stahl remembered that when she started in television the only anchorman who wrote his own scripts was Brinkley. "And now they all try to talk like him," added Jack Valenti. The dinner was black-tie, and being a civilized curmudgeon, David didn't object. But he wore a nice blue suit with a striped tie. —Sondra Gotlieb

Sondra Gotlieb