THE MAN ON THE LINE

By JEFFREY H. BIRNBAUM/WASHINGTON

The stodgy U.S. senate cannot boast many funny moments, and that's just one reason Larry Pressler is such a standout. Take the time a few years ago when the South Dakota Republican got up to leave the Senate Commerce Committee and walked instead into a closet. When he re-emerged a few minutes later, he tried to act as if nothing had gone wrong. He looked back into the empty space, waved as if he were saying goodbye to someone and closed the door. Then he located the real exit and left to titters from the audience.

Or take the time in the mid-'80s when Pressler chose to testify before his own Commerce Committee. When a Senate colleague began to interrogate him, Pressler protested, "I don't think it's proper to ask hard questions to members." Or consider the fact that Republican committee staff members once took it upon themselves to supply Pressler with a stream of memos during meetings so that observers would think he was engaged in the proceedings.

The list keeps growing. Pressler added to his legend this year by bungling an attempt to attack the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. He sent the organization a survey that included politically incorrect questions about the race and gender of its employees. This caused a public tiff that Pressler now says he regrets, although he was not sorry enough to drop his effort to privatize the corporation. Acidly summing up Pressler's record of gaffes and obliviousness, his fellow South Dakota Senator Tom Daschle, now the Senate minority leader, once said, "A Senate seat is a terrible thing to waste."

With the Republicans in control of the Senate these days, Pressler is chairman of the committee whose room he once could not find his way out of. And thus this week it will fall to him to guide through the full Senate the biggest effort to deregulate the $250 billion communications industry since the breakup of AT&T in 1984. Lawmakers and lobbyists are holding their breath to see whether the man they consider the Forrest Gump of legislators is up to the task. Others aren't taking any chances. Senate majority leader Bob Dole has assigned Senator Larry Craig of Idaho to help coordinate Republican amendments on the sweeping measure, a job usually reserved for the committee chairman. Says Shirley Bloomfield, lobbyist for the National Telephone Cooperative Association: "There will be a lot of assistance to make sure this thing gets shepherded through."

The bill will need all the help it can get. Differing versions of the complex legislation are pending in the House, and the Clinton Administration opposes the measure passed by Pressler's committee. It would phase out many government limits on the growth and pricing of communications services, changes worth billions of dollars to the companies involved. The White House wants to protect consumers from price gouging when a cable or telephone company holds too much power in a single market. In essence, the fight this week will be between those who want to deregulate quickly, predominantly the Republicans, and those, generally Democrats, who would deregulate gradually and in a few cases not at all. Pressler, typically, has been on both sides of the issue, having voted in 1992 to further regulate a cable industry he now is struggling to deregulate. "I'm for as much deregulation as possible," says Pressler. "But the fact that all the companies affected are kind of growling means the bill is probably good."

The 53-year-old native of Humboldt, South Dakota, achieved his present key position through the quirk of seniority. After serving in the House for four years, Pressler was elected to the Senate in 1978 and was promptly assigned to the Commerce Committee. (He tried to mount a presidential campaign the following year, but few took the effort seriously.)

While thought of as an oddity in Washington, Pressler is better accepted at home. On the surface, in fact, his resume -- and his ambition -- resembles that of another politico from a rural backwater state: Bill Clinton. Like Clinton, Pressler set his sights early on national prominence and at one point met President Kennedy at the White House. "He was the first freshman who ever came to me right away and asked, 'What do I have to do to be a Rhodes Scholar?'" recalls William O. Farber, professor emeritus at the University of South Dakota. Pressler, like Clinton, did become a Rhodes Scholar; he later graduated from Harvard Law School.

But the key to Pressler's electoral success is his carefully honed image as the farm boy who never forgot his roots. He likes to have his constituents see him ice fishing or driving his antique John Deere tractor. He also works overtime to bring federal dollars into his state and boasts of homey accomplishments such as helping to authorize the Mid-Dakota Rural Water System or obtaining a "digital switch for Aberdeen." Pressler even uses negative stories about him by the national press to enhance his standing locally. "I work as hard as I can, as honestly as I can, [and] feel good about myself," he says. "I decided long ago I want to be a good Senator for South Dakota."

Still, Pressler is considered one of the most vulnerable Senate Republicans standing for re-election in 1996. His seat once looked shaky: a year or so ago South Dakota's G.O.P. Governor Bill Janklow considered backing a challenger to Pressler, though he now says he is happy with the Senator. Pressler's probable Democratic opponent, Congressman Tim Johnson, is making lots of noise and is practiced at pointing out Pressler's befuddled manner. During an interview on South Dakota public television in 1993, Johnson said, "I just get more and more people coming up to me, complete strangers, frankly, in Washington, saying, 'What's wrong with your senior Senator? Is he sick, or is he just kind of a bizarre person?' I don't know." In response, Pressler derided the comment as mere politics and said, "I feel fine; I always have."

Certainly his campaign's financial health is improving. As chairman of a powerful committee, he has been able to collect political-action committee money almost at will. After he became chairman, he arranged fund raisers for himself, at which Tele-Communications Inc., the Motion Picture Association of America, News Corporation and Time Warner, among others, were hosts. Sheila Krumholz, a research associate with the nonpartisan Center for Responsive Politics, says she expects Pressler to at least double the $145,367 in pac contributions he received from the communications industry during his campaign in 1990. "This is the biggest bill to hit telecommunications in 60 years," she says. "And money goes to those who have the most influence over the legislative issues that these companies care about."

Clearly, they care plenty. This week on the Senate floor, amendments will be flying. On one side, Republican Senators Bob Packwood of Oregon and John McCain of Arizona will press to make the bill easier on the communications industry by limiting the government's authority to keep the Baby Bells from moving into long-distance service, by lifting price controls on small cable operators and by allowing broadcasters to own more television stations.

On the other side, Democratic Senators Patrick Leahy of Vermont and Joe Lieberman of Connecticut, among others, will try to limit rate increases and preserve a major role for the Justice Department in managing local markets. Nothing short of the future of the telecommunications industry is at stake. At the moment, the betting is that Pressler's bill will succeed, at least in some form. "Like Ronald Reagan, he benefits from being underestimated," says Kenneth Duberstein, a lobbyist and former White House aide. "In the end, Larry Pressler, as usual, will produce."

--WITH REPORTING BY TOM CURRY/SIOUX FALLS

With reporting by TOM CURRY/SIOUX FALLS