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In an institution where verbosity is a virtue, Javits is probably the greatest virtuoso of them all—at least since Hubert Humphrey departed. "He knows the facts on everything," says Marion—and he can summarize them in a few thousand choice words at a moment's notice. Back in 1961, Javits was orating on an immigration bill that he considered unjust when Rhode Island Democrat John Pastore tried to gain the floor. "Let me finish," pleaded Javits. Pastore looked up at the chamber's high ceiling, rolled his eyes dramatically and moaned: "The Senator never finishes."
When he isn't talking, Javits is thinking. He is one of the most prolific idea men in politics, with a range of interests and enthusiasms that would defy an indexer. He has sponsored a thriving private-enterprise plan for Latin American development (ADELA) and is trying to launch similar ventures for Greece and Turkey. He is chairman of the NATO Parliamentarian's Economic Committee and an oft-heard advocate of greater political and economic cooperation within the Alliance. He speaks regularly and perceptively on the problems of Germany and of Viet Nam. On the domestic scene, he is an authority on issues ranging from Medicare to middle-income housing, civil rights to civic beautification, the arts to the sciences. New Yorker Javits can even wax oracular about agriculture. "Ask him something about apple-growing," says New York State G.O.P. Treasurer Bill Pfeiffer, "and you would think he had been growing them all his life."
Empty Seat. When in Washington, Javits is up and about in time to reach the House gym soon after its early morning opening, spending 15 minutes in the pool or working out at paddleball or handball. If he can find a partner, he plays tennis, but he may soon run out of partners; in excellent trim (he weighs 175 Ibs., claims to be 5 ft. 10 in. tall, but appears to be at least an inch shorter than that), he is a tough, agile player who gives no quarter. Saunaed, showered and stretched, Javits slides into his dark beige Mustang convertible (license plate MBJ-1 for his wife) and zips off to the Senate, whose own gym does not open until 10. By that time, Javits has usually met several delegations, sat in on a committee hearing and dictated any number of letters to the pretty secretary who trots at his side through the Senate corridors.
From two to five times a week Javits commutes from Washington to New York. Last week, for example, he was in Manhattan for a cafe society Shakespeare Festival revel (see MODERN LIVING), flew down to the capital early the next morning. The Senator's heavy travel schedule is wearing and inconvenient, though it suits Marion, who refuses to live in Washington. After enduring the capital for a few months when he was a freshman Congressman, she fled back to Manhattan and has lived there ever since. "Washington," she said, "is a factory town."