It is said that membership has its privileges. And I would say it was a privilege indeed to be a member of the National Press Club. It was more than a drinking hole, though as drinking holes go, it had few rivals. It was more than a place where journalists gathered to pick the brains of federal politicians. The Press Club was like a home and we were a family where stars shone, achievers were appreciated, braggards were put in their place and weirdos were tolerated. For the most part, press club members checked their egos at the door lest they be jeered at, mocked or punched out. What I loved about the club was that the employees -- the bartenders, servers, maintenance staff -- were not just slaves to the minimum wage; they were family, too. Many a Saturdays would see club members competing with staff in shuffleboard or snooker. And it wasn't unusual to see Pete Leblanc standing against his vacuum cleaner talking politics with media sta...
More than a million served!