It means what it says. Nothing is sacred. The exemption for interest earned on municipal bonds to finance the construction of golf courses?

On the table.

The tax break for the purchase of certain livestock?

On the table.

The credit union tax exemption?

On the table.

Of course, credit unions want to retain their tax exemption – viewing the issue as a "life or death" situation. And of course, banks want to do all that they can to convince Congress to take the tax break away.

The White House and Republican tax writers on Capitol Hill recently produced a set of principles they will use to try to reform the tax code. As one might expect at the start of a long policymaking process, it was skimpy on details.

CUNA celebrated the fact that the credit union tax exemption wasn't mentioned.

Which brings us to "Gucci Gulch." That used to refer to the hallways outside House and Senate meeting rooms and offices where the high-priced lobbyists waited for staff and legislators to plead their cases. And it was a reflection of how much money lobbyists make – enough to be able to wear Gucci shoes.

Those shoes run somewhere in the neighborhood of $800 and up.

Two then-Wall Street Journal reporters, Jeffrey H. Birnbaum and Alan S. Murray, wrote a book about the last time Congress tackled tax reform. It's called "Showdown at Gucci Gulch."

It's a wonderful story about the 1986 tax bill and well-worth reading as Congress and the White House attempt to tackle it again.

And the book makes it clear that the lobbying over a tax reform bill will be a high-stakes game played by high-paying interests.

At last count, there were 1,929 clients who were paying lobbyists on tax issues, according to The Center for Responsive Politics, an organization that keeps track of lobbying and campaign contributions. That figure was second only to lobbying on federal budget and appropriations, which stood at 2,822.

All those clients are paying the folks in Gucci Gulch to make sure they are not hurt by any changes in tax law. And more than a few would also like to see their opponents (such as credit unions) devastated by any tax bill.

The late Sen. Russell Long (D-La.), the son of Huey Long and the former chairman of the tax-writing Senate Finance Committee, put it succinctly.

"Don't tax you, don't tax me, tax that fellow behind the tree," he said.

Cordray's Future

The rumors concerning CFPB Director Richard Cordray's political future continue to swirl.

Most recently, Ohio Supreme Court Justice Bill O'Neill told cleveland.com that a mutual friend told him Cordray was going to leave the agency and run for the Democratic gubernatorial nomination in the Buckeye State.

O'Neill has more than a passing interest in the subject. He has expressed interest in a run for governor himself, but has said that if Cordray runs, he wouldn't.

Adding fuel to the fire, Cordray recently joined Sen. Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio) on a conference call to discuss the CFPB's arbitration rule.

Of course, there's the question of when Cordray will leave. He's issued one of two large rules his agency has been working on – the mandatory arbitration effort.

He hasn't issued final rules governing payday lending yet. At last report, the agency is reviewing more than one million comments that were filed on the proposed rule.

The unofficial campaign season in the Buckeye State starts after Labor Day and there's been some speculation that Cordray might want to enter the race in time to campaign at a huge picnic sponsored by organized labor in Cincinnati on that day.

Zombie Walk

Last year, I had one of the weirdest experiences in my years of covering Congress.

I was working on a story about the nomination of J. Mark McWatters to the Export-Import Bank board – a nomination that eventually died.

Now, reporters can wander around the Capitol button-holing members of Congress for interviews. I caught Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) as he left the Senate floor and asked him whether the Senate would consider the nomination.

McConnell didn't even acknowledge my existence. He stared straight ahead with a blank look on his face and walked to his office, just off the Senate floor.

It was spooky.

When I told a friend who also happens to be a congressional reporter about the experience, he said others have suffered a similar fate.

Recently, Mark Leibovich, a writer for The New York Times Magazine, wrote a story about Washington in the Trump era. Leibovich wrote a wonderful book in 2014 called "This Town: Two Parties and a Funeral – Plus, Plenty of Valet Parking! – in America's Gilded Capital."

It was about how clubby Washington is.

In his magazine piece, Leibovich described how he had asked McConnell a question as he left the Senate floor.

The majority leader remained impassive as he walked to his office.

Leibovich gave a name to McConnell's routine.

He called it "The McConnell Zombie Walk."

Perfect.

David Baumann is Correspondent-at-Large for Credit Union Times. He can be reached at [email protected].