Today is the 50th anniversary of the federal act that began the Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways.

Great photos on the commemorative website.  I swear the other day I got caught behind this guy still on the Beltway:

After the White House Correspondents Association Dinner, the entire Extreme Mortman reporting team hit the groovy Capitol File Magazine after-party, where we spotted the elusive:

Justice Antonin Scalia and Ken Duberstein:

Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson:

Animal Planet host Jeff Corwin:

Ed Gillespie:

Chris Matthews:

Craig Crawford:

Ann Klenk and Lloyd Grove:

Former Congressman Tom McMillen:

Jason Binn, Niche Media CEO, parent company to Capitol, in the center, with Bill Schneider on his left:

And the smartest guy in the room — heck, the smartest guy on the eastern seaboard —  Capitol File writer Bill Whitman:

I’ve been reading “Crashing the Gate: Netroots, Grassroots, and the Rise of People-Powered Politics.” The fascinating new book by Jerome Armstrong and Markos Moulitsas Zuniga. A powerful account of online communities — how we got where we are now and where we’re headed. Valuable for both parties — and for political and media junkies alike.

When you have a chance, flip to the acknowledgements section, where the authors salute “the wisdom of some of the most incredible, passionate, and intelligent people in the world of American politics.”

If you like insidery names, you’ll love page 180 where they thank from the DC area Simon Rosenberg, Richard Yeselson, Sen. Russ Feingold, and, quoting directly from the book: “Dan Lucas, Ralph Neas, Mark Schmitt, Mike McCurry, Rob Stein, Joe Trippi, Mame Reiley, Amy Sullivan, Walter Ludwig, John Judis, Ruy Teixeria, Mike and Sally Ford, David Brock, Peter Murray, Todd Webster, Paul Blank, Michael Bassik, Matt Bai, Murshed Zaheed, Susan Turnbell, Jennie Blackton, Tony Raymond, Mark Halprin, and Governor Mark Warner.”

Here’s an e-mail making the rounds of the inside-the-Beltway crowd — amusing reporters and PR folks alike. A source tells me it’s written by Rachel S., formerly of mediabistro. It’s posted here — purely as a reader service.

David and Scott: A Love Story, Kind Of

The following are excerpts from the exchanges between Scott McClellan and David Gregory earlier this week during the daily White House Briefings. No words have been changed, just sorta rearranged. Also, stage directions have been added. For context. Because, you know, this is a complicated story.

(We are in a warmly-lit bedroom, neat and tidy. You could bounce a quarter off the bed. A book is on the bedside table, neatly bookmarked. SCOTT is packing a suitcase, open on the bed. His face is locked in a mask of inscrutability. He reaches over, picks up the book, hesitates for a moment, and presses it snugly into a free corner. Everything is done with precision.

Suddenly DAVID lurches into the doorway, clutching a bottle. What little liquid remains inside sloshes noisily. SCOTT freezes for a brief moment, then returns to his packing. DAVID shifts his posture in the doorway, aggressively, and speaks in a loud, clear voice, too loud for the little room. He will not be ignored. He slurs only slightly.)

DAVID: Scott, I just have two questions.

SCOTT: (stoically) Well, I think that I’ve expressed my views, and we went through this yesterday.

DAVID: But that’s a non-answer!

(In two swift strides he is beside SCOTT. He reaches out and grabs SCOTT’s forearm in mid-pack, locking it in midair. SCOTT pauses, then looks up at DAVID very slowly. His face remains impassive, other than a telltale tightening of his jaw.)

SCOTT: I don’t want to make this about anything other than what it is. It is what it is, David. I was very respectful and responsive to your questions yesterday.

DAVID: All right, but –

SCOTT: (shaking off his grip) …I provided you the information I knew based on the facts that were available, and we’ve been through this pretty thoroughly.

(DAVID glares at SCOTT and folds his arms across his chest. He raises his chin defiantly, challengingly.)

DAVID (smugly): You don’t have an answer to this question. All right, one final question.

SCOTT (snapping): Wait, wait, I’m just not going to go back through it again. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me respond fully before you jump in!

(He slams the suitcase shut in frustration. He is breathing heavily, nostrils flaring. They glare at each other. David’s lip quivers slightly, but he glares back, resolute.)

DAVID: I understand that, but I’m not getting answers here, Scott. Everybody knows what is an answer and what is not an answer!

SCOTT (pointing a finger warningly): David, now you want to make this about you, and it’s not about you, it’s about what happened. And that’s what I’m trying to –

DAVID: I’m sorry that you feel that way, but that’s not what I’m trying to do!

SCOTT: You don’t have to yell!

DAVID (yelling): I will yell! If you — take shots at me personally — which I don’t appreciate — I will raise my voice! Because that’s wrong!

SCOTT: Calm down, Dave, calm down!

DAVID (screaming): I’LL CALM DOWN WHEN I FEEL LIKE CALMING DOWN!

(DAVID swipes at the air with the bottle, clumsily. Alcohol sloshes over into the air, onto his hand. It shocks him from the moment. They stare at each other.

SCOTT crosses to him slowly, gently takes his hand. Tenderly, he dries it with his sleeve, holding DAVID’s eyes. DAVID is still, holding his breath. SCOTT takes the bottle, gently. DAVID’s hand drops. Their eyes remain held.)

SCOTT (softly): I’m sorry you’re getting all riled up.

DAVID (pleadingly): Answer the question.

(SCOTT looks at DAVID for a moment, vulnerable before him. At that moment, he seems as though he’d burst if he could only give DAVID the answers he’s looking for. But, the moment passes. He shakes his head, and walks back over to the bed, by the suitcase. Gently, but decisively, he lifts the lid.)

SCOTT: I have answered the question.

(DAVID stands, mute. The gulf between them is suddenly huge. He walks over to SCOTT, stops, looks at him. SCOTT looks back. With a swift and sudden motion, DAVID grabs the bottle back. He strides to the doorway, turning around for dramatic effect, chin high and proud. He points at SCOTT.)

DAVID: I’ll calm down when I feel like calming down.

(With a flourish, he turns and leaves the room. Offstage we hear a sound: the bottle smashing. SCOTT has stood motionless throughout this final exchange. He turns slowly to the suitcase, reaches inside, and picks up the book. He looks at it for a moment, and then puts it back in the suitcase. He picks up a sweater and folds it. He continues to pack as the lights go down.)

Washington has dispensed with partisanship. Now we’re into downright hatred. Anger’s aweigh! But Valentine’s Day offers a rare chance to preach love, not spew venom. We’ll eagerly get back to mutual invective soon, but for Valentine’s Day 2006, here’s what you can do. Match the politicians most need of sharing Valentines with each other.

Here are hints:

Roll Call:

The ascent last week of Rep. John Boehner (R-Ohio) to the Majority Leader post has put the agenda for the upcoming House GOP retreat somewhat in flux, but one thing is certain: Frank Luntz won’t be there

Letter from Sen. McCain to Sen. Obama (Feb. 6):

“I understand how important the opportunity to lead your party’s effort to
exploit this issue must seem to a freshman Senator, and I hold no hard
feelings over your earlier disingenuousness.”

Peggy Noonan:

When the president joked that two people his father loves are turning 60
this year, himself and Bill Clinton–why does he think constant references
to that relationship work for him?–it was Mrs. Clinton’s job to look mildly
amused, or pleasant, or relatively friendly, or nonhostile. Mrs. Clinton has
two natural looks, the first being a dull and sated cynicism, the second the
bright-eyed throaty chuckler who greets visiting rubes from Utica. The
camera caught the first …

Washington Post:

An “irritated” U.S. Magistrate Judge Deborah A. Robinson
“expressed frustration and surprise” upon hearing that D.C. Council Member
Marion Barry “failed to promptly file his tax returns and other required
paperwork”

Captain’s Quarter’s coverage of Jimmy Carter at Coretta Scott King’s
funeral:

He lectured about the lack of progress in civil rights, saying
that all one had to do was look at the faces of those victimized by
Hurricane Katrina to know that more progress had to be made. It’s the first
time I’ve ever heard God be called a bigot — unless Carter somehow has
evidence that Bush ginned up a hurricane to deliberately attack the Gulf
Coast.