Upstairs at the Middleton Tavern, a near-quorum of Maryland's 188-member General Assembly settled in for a winter's eve of succulent Chesapeake Bay oysters, mounds of colorful crudites, hand-carved meats and an open bar -- courtesy of lobbyist Dennis C. McCoy and one of his many clients, Joseph E. Seagram & Sons.

McCoy is host of one of the legislative session's most popular receptions, generating enough good cheer to erase boundaries between Republican and Democrat, city and suburb, haughty reformer and unrepentant schmoozer.

A former member of the House of Delegates from Baltimore, McCoy works the room casually, hoping to clarify a point, perhaps, or introduce himself to one of this year's 35 first-year lawmakers. His daughter and lobbying partner, Kim, joins.

Some of the most direct lobbying by industry officials or grass-roots volunteers occurs at receptions like the one at Middleton Tavern.

If an afterglow of good times and good fellowship carries through to a more meaningful moment in the legislative session, fine. What the lobbyists and their industry employers are doing here is creating a friendly atmosphere -- and, they hope, reliable friends.

As tighter restrictions have been imposed on lobbyists' entertaining of legislators, receptions have become one of their last stands. One-on-one lobbyist-legislator lunches or dinners have come under increased suspicion, but big events have remained largely unregulated.

By dint of their number, their expertise and the money behind them, lobbyists have become essentially a "third house" in the Assembly. Some say the tighter restrictions on wining and dining make receptions a huge advantage for the dozen or so high profile lobbyists -- because their clients can pay the big tabs, sometimes running thousands of dollars for a single event.

Opportunity for advocacy

Still, open house-style receptions remain a useful and defensible lobbying venue because they allow some of the purest advocacy by citizens as well as by the hired guns.

This year's legislative session opened Jan. 13 with a half-dozen alcoholic beverage groups offering free drinks and food at the Calvert House. At breakfast, lunch and dinner, similarly free events have been available throughout the 90-day sojourn.

Breakfasts, cocktail parties, fruit and cheese drop-in affairs and even a steak dinner are among the variations on the theme. Businesses, unions, professional associations, local governments and others may offer an elegant repast -- or a plebeian box lunch -- in return for the chance to put a human face on otherwise abstract concerns.

"I came because they have oyster shooters," said Del. Kumar P. Barve, a Montgomery County Democrat, at the Middleton Tavern. He was referring to a concoction in which the bivalve is dredged in spicy sauces and served with a small "shooter" of beer, a specialty of Middleton's. "I don't even know who's running this thing," he said. "So I'm not sure who's benefiting."

Sometimes it's too much

So dense is the flurry of legislative receptions that the events eventually appear on many legislators' screens more as obligations than treats.

Mary Jo Neville, a lobbyist for the Maryland State Teachers Association, says her group puts on 10 mixers early in the session -- one for legislators from every region of the state. The entertaining is valuable, she says, because MSTA members from Easton or Oakland can tell a legislator, "This is Mary Jo and she represents me."

But by the end of each year's MSTA reception schedule, Neville says, otherwise tempting fare becomes ominous: "If I see one more bowl of crab dip," she said, "I'm going to be sick."

Invitations can be tailored to the host's budget or to the ethics law's per-legislator spending limit. If the list of invitees is large, the costs -- sometimes totaling several thousand dollars -- can be prorated, taking the cost per senator or delegate below the maximum lobbyists may spend on a legislator without reporting it.

At the Seagram's event, legislators were "secondary," according to Kim McCoy, who said its objective was to entertain company retirees and to create goodwill among members of the Distillery Union. "It doesn't have to have any [legislative] value," she said.

That would be a minority view. By definition, the reaching out is unapologetically legislative.

This month, for example, the Baltimore Ravens held their version of the Annapolis reception -- to introduce their new coach, Brian Billick, and Ozzie Newsome, the team's player development chief who was recently inducted into the National Football LeagueHall of Fame.

Billick and Newsome posed for photographs with a parade of lawmakers, including state Sen. George W. Della, a Baltimore Democrat. Della says he limits himself to a few such events every year. "This is the only one of these I've been to," he said. "The Ravens happen to be located in my legislative district. They've done some things in the community which I appreciate. They're a good corporate citizen and I wanted to thank them."

Making faces familiar

The Ravens may well have wanted to thank Della and his colleagues who voted several years ago to spend $229 million to build their stadium, reportedly a factor in drawing Billick to town. The team may not be back at the legislative well for some time, but when it does have a problem it will approach legislators as a known quantity. Receptions can foster such relationships -- and introduce entire industries.

"You can't explain the horse industry in a hearing room," said the Maryland Thoroughbred Horsemen's Association lobbyist, Alan Foreman. His association works hard at giving legislators a feel for one of the state's most historic and romantic businesses -- a $600 million-a-year industry employing as many as 10,000 Marylanders full time.

Foreman's soiree was held at Loews Annapolis Hotel on the same evening as the Seagram's party at Middleton Tavern. Some of the same legislators -- certainly not still hungry -- dropped by to chat with Foreman and his industry's leaders.

Foreman was pleased to see Gov. Parris N. Glendening and his wife, Frances, at this year's reception. Glendening has said he wants to help the racing industry -- if he can do it without aiding Joseph A. De Francis, controlling stockholder in the state's two thoroughbred race tracks.

"The perception is that Joe De Francis is racing in Maryland," Foreman said. A reception is one of the ways his industry tries to show legislators all its facets.

These moments are important to legislators, many of them said -- particularly freshmen trying to learn about the range of interest groups and issues in a short time. "They give us a chance to meet and greet people involved in issues we're voting on," said Del. William A. Bronrott, a Montgomery County Democrat. "I think voters want us to be educated."

Del. Nathaniel Oaks, a Democrat from Baltimore, agreed. "You can actually relax at one of these," he said.

"And talk comfortably," said Del. Talmadge Branch, also a Baltimore Democrat.

"Talk about breakfast and dinner," said Oaks, with a smile.

Pub Date: 3/12/99