Grass Roots Shmass Roots

Grass Roots Shmass Roots

Picture this.  You open your email one morning and see that you have been blessed with 450 new emails overnight.  First thought?  If you didn’t think, “oh crap.  Someone has a new virus,” I would be very surprised.  But, if you DID think, “Oh!  This is very exciting!  I can’t wait to read 450 new emails before breakfast!” then, my friend, you are one very disturbed person.  Now, if you begin to open your 450 new emails and soon discover that they are all IDENTICAL except for the person’s name that sent them, you will have a decent idea of what it is like to be targeted by online grass roots efforts.  The real important part is to ask yourself this, though… Do you feel A) Impressed, B) Annoyed, or C) Persuaded?  “B” is the only answer a sane person can really choose here.

If you want to tell your opinion to your elected representation, you need to first make sure it is YOUR representation you are telling.  It may come of a surprise to you to hear this (sorry NRA), but non-constituent emails and phone calls are not even recorded by many of us.  So, please, take the time to find out who you are represented by and contact THAT person.  Also, be sure to identify yourself as a constituent in “district X” by giving your physical address to the receptionist when you call or write.  If you won’t, we assume you are a nut or a hired grass roots helper.  In either case, your input means nothing.

If you want your opinion to be considered, try to communicate like a civil adult with some thoughtful consideration of the complexity of the situation. Just telling me you are for or against something is not as useful as WHY you hold that opinion.  Do you have experience in the field affected by the policy being considered?  If so, be sure to mention that.  Believe it or not, most of us want to avoid unintended consequences and hear from the “real Joes” out there who are not paid lobbyists.  Oh, and by the way, name-calling is the sign of an unstable mind.  After years of watching my staff be abused by people calling in who simply wanted to lash out, I now instruct them to simply hang up if a caller becomes abusive.  Get over it.  Learn to behave.  If you can’t, then suck it.  You don’t pay my staff enough to suffer your ignorant abuse.  Go take it out on your own mother who clearly didn’t raise you right.  My office is not a venting outlet.  Go blog, for crying out loud.  But, please, lose my number.

There are good grass roots efforts and bad ones, to be sure.  Bad efforts actually have a negative effect on my attitudes towards the issue.  Here’s an example:  Moron government relations guy sends out a postcard in my district compelling my voters in orange alert postcard fashion (you know who you are) to call me right away and tell me to vote for X policy.  Now, if you are loyal follower of orange-card-people organization, you think, “Wow!  I can’t believe that MY guy is going to vote against this.  I better call him now and give him a warning that I am going to vote him out if he doesn’t get right on the issues with orange-card-people!”  And, since most voters never remember to check, most just assume I voted wrong on their key issue and just toss the postcard…  The problem is, I am a champion on orange-card-people issues and moron government relations guy has just expended money to “suggest” to my voters that I am about to screw them on one of my key issues.  He hurts me, he hurts all of us who care about the issue, and he could possibly end up costing me enough votes FROM MY OWN BASE that another politician beats me who hates the orange-card-people and their issue.  If this were uncommon, it would just be a curious case study in amateur grass roots work.  Unfortunately, it isn’t.

Rubber Chicken

Rubber Chicken

Each week, I sit down at my desk and am handed a folder about an inch thick filled with invitations to all sorts of things.  These are the various events that good people put together and invite everyone of remote importance in hopes that the “regular” folks who have no choice but to attend will be encouraged that “important” people came.  It makes the organizer look cool, and if there is someone or something being honored that I care about, I will try and go. 

I attended an event recently with a friend of mine.  It was a black tie deal and I thought it would be fun to just get a bit dressed up and lend a little support to this organization which does a lot of good work.  The most poignant question of the night came from a lady who asked me, “Why are you here?”  As I stammered, realizing I had no real idea, the thought that this blog entry must be written came to mind.  The organization so butchered my name; I hadn’t stood because I didn’t recognize it when it was said.  Apparently they did a big “group stand” thing for anyone important who was there but perceived to be less important than me.  So, half way through the meal, the woman was curious as to why I was sitting at her table.  LOL.  I have no damn idea.  But, I am pretty sure I won’t make the same mistake next year.

Here’s the secret to garnering repeat attendance from politicos:

Be sure you read their names and titles and give them time to stand and be recognized as being in attendance.  This provides value to them for giving you their time that could have been spent with their real friends and family.  It allows the group attendees to see that they are real, also, which grows your coolness factor for getting them there.

Get their names and titles right.  Your coolness evaporates quickly if you can’t be bothered to properly pronounce a small handful of names of elected officials.  One organization gets my name wrong every year.  Granted, you don’t know my name.  But, trust me… anybody can pronounce it and it is phonetically correct even if the organizer is such a poser that they don’t really have a clue who the people are they invited.  So, I just stopped going to these events where people butcher my name.  It isn’t that I am acting with bit of sour grapes (ok, maybe a little- I did fight very hard for a piece of their legislation one year).  But, there is no value to me if folks in attendance don’t know I came out for the event.  And, it is embarrassing.  When you get an elected official’s name THAT wrong, repeatedly, it says that you find them so insignificant that you aren’t even aware of how their name is spoken or what office they hold.  I don’t like to be embarrassed.  It isn’t fun.

If they are special guests (which I presume they are), then seat them accordingly.  I don’t mean seating them at the head table… seriously; NO one likes to face a room full of strangers while they try to navigate a plate of mixed field greens.  Rather, seat them with significant people in your organization who will have some flipping clue as to why it is meaningful that they are sitting with an elected official.  If you sit them with random “filler” guests from the steno pool, they won’t come back.  Remember, you are not their family and this is not a Thanksgiving dinner that they are beholden to attend.  If dinner conversation is pure hell, they will treat your next invitation just like anyone who has ever come to your crappy dinner parties.

If you want to really excel at these events, in the minds of politicians, assign someone to “host” each of them from the time they check in at your front registration tables.  The “host” takes them around to introduce them to key people in your organization and sits with them at their table.  We often wonder around your event with no idea who we should talk to (news flash: we don’t read your trade magazines and don’t know what King Widget Dude looks like).  The “host” can also be sure on pronunciation for the trickier names and find out if the VIP guest would like to have their guest recognized as being in attendance with them.  Hint: Older men with beautiful daughters in tow will truly appreciate you introducing the daughter as such… for obvious reasons.

Make sure there are photo opportunities.  The politico wants a picture.  If it was important enough to come to yet another rubber chicken dinner, he/she cares about your organization.  We need a scrapbook of the stuff we care about for future campaigns.  You should also use these pictures in your newsletters, future fundraising appeals, etc. 

Ok, that wasn’t so hard.  Hope this was instructive and helpful for both those fighting the good fight on a myriad of issues that hold these events and for the politicians who bother to venture out to your banquet meals and receptions.

Pizza Face!

Pizza Face!

Did you hear the one about the politician who went to pick up a pizza for his sick son to try and cheer him up?  Goes like this… 

I decided to give "Granpa Jack’s" Pizza (not the real name) a try as they were located close to my dry cleaner and I was intrigued by their catchy slogan “Better Ingredients.  Better Pizza.”  I LIKE better ingredients, I thought, maybe I would like their pizza better.

I ordered my pizza, gave my name, and after dropping my dirty laundry with a complete stranger (kind of an odd thing to do, really. Dirty laundry is sort of personal), I headed to pick up my kid’s pizza. 

My biggest concern in this whole plan was driving home with the hot fresh pizza.  I am on one of my many diets so that I can retain the appearance the voters expect.  Why do they get to have jowls and fat asses but I have to look fit and trim like I run marathons on the weekends?  I don't.  I confess.  I sit on my ass and watch football on Sundays and usually just run errands on Saturdays.  It is so unfair.  But, I digress… 

So, I think it is a bit odd that the kid at the register seems to recognize my name from a pizza order.  I had never been there before and it is not my experience that pizza guys are all that politically in tune.  I stood there wondering what “Ooooohhh, that name sounds familiar,” meant… Is that good?   The place was super crowded, so I am thinking the guy is just a screw up and I take a deep breath.  It is nice that Pappa John's hires the mentally retarded, I am telling myself.  I hope that he washes his hands, though.  Hygiene is important and I haven't seen many mentally challenged kids that seem to understand the value of washing the nose goo off their hands.  I am wondering, "Why am I still waiting for the pizza?"

It didn’t take long to find out.  Before I know it, the kid is trying to be funny and show off by telling me loudly in the crowded restaurant that he is going to be working against me in my next election.  To say these morons caught me off guard would be an understatement.  I am normally quite well prepared with snarky passive aggressive and destructive comments for shitheads I encounter when on the campaign trail.  But, I am just trying to pay for some dough and a little cheese, here, people.  Maybe sprinkle a little cash into the economy (and into this idiot's paycheck)...

As I drove off with the pizza, the significance of what just took place started to sink in.  These freakish (yes, one even had the earlobe doughnut thing making his ear appear to be a great place to hang him from a cup hook) clowns knew me, and hated me enough to forget I was a paying customer and sort of threaten me WHILE I PAID.  It began to dawn on me that these same jerk-offs made my son’s pizza… Now what?  With an obvious lack of self-control when I am standing in front of them, what are the chances they exhibit greater self -control when they are alone with my pizza?

I’m ashamed to admit I let my son eat it.  I didn’t say a word, but I did open the box and look for any sign of bodily fluids.  Then, I wrote a strongly worded letter... and researched the founder of the pizza chain to find that he and his wife give big contributions to the Kentucky Democrats.  (They also gave to George W. Bush in 2004).  WTF?!  I just feel sorry for them when I see that combination of contributions.  Idiots.  I am going to send a note to the store that just reads, “Pizza Face!  Why don’t you try some Proactive?  You would still be ugly, but at least you wouldn’t gross out your customers anymore.  Freak!”  Bwaaahaaa haaa haa haa!  THAT will be more satisfying than a response from the founder.  I'll never eat there again anyway.

Lesson here?  A. Don’t eat pizza at this one of five pizza joints in the 1 mile radius around my home.  They hire freaks who may be spitting in your food if they don’t like your politics.  And with the CEO giving to both sides, you never know when you are going to be the target.  B. If you are a pimple covered pizza guy with those weird ear lobe stretching things, you are a loser and there is really nothing you can say to offend anyone with an ounce of self-confidence.  Don’t bother.  C. If you are a pimple covered pizza guy and you think you are cute by spitting in a pizza that a politician will ultimately feed to their innocent child, you are deeply disturbed.  D. You are an idiot if you act aggressively toward a politician trying to mind their own business as a customer in your place of employment, because you are going to be SO much on the losing end when the consequences come down on you.  Can you say,  “paper route?”  I mean, where do you go from there, pizza guy?!  E. Even if you keep your job, you are weak.   And, we need a weak person to take out our frustrations on.  You are no match with your silly little attempts at hurting us with words.  We are very experienced with hurtful words.  You are way out of your league and we will relish tormenting you more than you can ever imagine.   Pizza Face!

Sorry, But You are About to be F*cked

Sorry, But You are About to be F*cked

Nothing is less surprising, yet immensely disturbing, as watching your friends cave to pressure.  The nice thing is, at least your political friends will take the time to let you know they are giving up in the face of pressure and leaving you holding the bag.  That’s how you know who your “real” friends are.  They will buy you a nice lunch and chatter with you about all of the personal stuff you normally discuss with a friend and then, as the check is set down, they will confess.  I had one of these experiences today.  It makes my heart ache.  But, at least they had the decency to send a friend to tell me.

One of the big political activist groups in the country has been a friend in the fight against big government and higher taxation by our never-satisfied government.  For years, we have found ourselves fighting on the same side of a plethora of issues.  Sometimes I am surprised to see them there caring, because it really ISN’T their core battle in their industry.  But, I’ve come to recognize that there are good people with solid core values who actually believe in the holistic approach to policy making.  They always show up to the fight… Today, they sent an emissary to tell me they were in “talks” to fold on a fight I had counted on them to fight with me.  They don’t know when it will be public, or what they will get for it, but they are throwing in with the other team because they are “afraid” of possible retribution by another powerful politician.

I have come to recognize that everyone has his or her price.  Very very very few in the world, much less in politics, are willing to “go all the way” for what they believe in.  But, sometimes people just give themselves away too cheap. That’s what gets me down… They could be high-end call girls riding in limousines and eating caviar, but they don’t have the self-confidence to demand this, so they end up like ideological common everyday streetwalkers nibbling on a Twinkie behind a Git N Go.  I don’t know that I would die for my issues, so I include myself in that mix of folks who have a price.  But, there are SO many things I would withstand, short of death, so I have a whole mess of people to look down on in this regard.

As one of the last Mohicans, I am the oft recipient of the meetings like today, as one by one all of the other freedom fighters turn in their halos for some hot pink spandex pants and a fur-lined tube top to complete their “whore” ensemble. … It is a very nice and courteous “Sorry,  But you are about to be f*cked.”  And, as courteous and nice as it is, it can still ruin my day like nothing else.

Goodbye Group X.  I hope you don’t sell yourselves for too cheap.  You’re better than that.

Frosh: Term Limits Don’t Mean You Get to Be Fresh

Frosh: Term Limits Don’t Mean You Get to Be Fresh

In the years before term limits, new legislators seemed to know their place.  They were excited to be here, but smart enough to know that they had a lot to learn before they start trying to run the place.  If we fast forward to the term limit era of today, you see otherwise smart adults acting nothing short of petulant in their first terms in office. 

Everyone can watch and see that they don’t yet understand the rules and parliamentary procedure.  For the most part, veterans pitch in and offer help when they make their first motions or attempt to amend a bill.  This has to be learned by doing and most are very patient with the newbie legislators.  But when freshmen legislators disregard “customs” of the body in which they serve and act like bulls in our china closet, a painful correction is soon to follow.

There are customs that lend more to mutual respect than procedure, and they are being lost as more and more freshmen are being thrust into positions of responsibility which they are in no way ready to handle.  For instance, there is a history to every issue that is important to learn before you go out and shoot off your mouth or run a bill.  That history includes the circumstances of the historical theater as well as the players.  Some issues “belong” to certain veteran members and they have spent large chunks of their careers becoming experts on those issues and have vetted a wide variety of ideas along the way.  I have seen a couple freshmen dig themselves a hole in their careers by ignoring the custom of respecting the territories of veteran legislators.  And, it can get really ugly when it happens.

This is partly driven by constituents who themselves may only be really good at one job, but seem to think that “their” lawmaker is supposed to be an expert at everything and leading the charge fixing every possible perceived problem that exists in their universe.  The freshmen are so uniquely aware of how hard they worked to get elected, and how easy it would be to get themselves unelected, that they tend to spring into the ring on every hot-button issue that crosses their desks.  So, they run goof-ball bills that are full of problems and then get all pissy when the body reacts to their A) Generally bad idea, B) Retread idea that has been through the body multiple times and failed, or C) Incredibly cheeky behavior in running a bill that is well-known to be the life’s work of a fellow member.  But, it is largely due to term limits which create a very real need to get the ball rolling right away on issues you came there to address.

I had a run-in with a particularly insolent freshman recently and I had forgotten how unreal these conversations could be.  It was behind a closed office door and I am the only witness.  First, I should tell you that this legislator is a wealthy businessman who (I presume) grew bored of counting his money and decided to come down and save us all from ourselves by pouring a ton of that money into his own campaign and took the job away from a long-time legislator.  He also spread his money all over the map on the political efforts of others for the last few decades and has garnered a whole mess of “friends” as a result.  While I was happy to see the other chap he beat hit the retirement circuit, I think we may have a nightmare on our hands with this freshman. 

The conversation was about his very first bill.  In his one bill of about three paragraphs, he had managed to offend the principles of his own political platform in two major areas and offend the aforementioned customs of the body in another.  He was also being played as a patsy by the people who brought him the bill in the first place…I sat down with the guy to try and help him to see why his own caucus was turning up their collective noses at his bill and see if his goal with the legislation could be accomplished another way through a couple simple amendments.  To be honest, I thought the bill sucked.  There was NO way I was going to vote for it.  But, to be helpful, I was going to help him to work his first bill through the process and accommodate the concerns of various personalities.

To say this freshman didn’t appreciate my help would be an understatement.  He immediately lurched into a twisted and bizarre series of non-verbal and loudly verbal messages.  He threatened me to basically watch my back in the future because he “had a long memory” and this wasn’t over.  I felt his behavior to be fresh, even for a freshman, and told him so in low calm tones that only infuriated him more.  His next big bill was also a disaster and resulted in a huge amount of heartburn for several members who took him at his word that he had done his homework.  I believe the courts are still battling out the legality of his 2^nd bill.  Needless to say, I decided to let him have the rope to hang himself on his second stinker bill…

I was laughing when I saw a well-respected fellow member go on the record with the press (in regards to this big shot freshman member's frequent outbursts) and suggest that “Freshmen should be seen and not heard.”   If people in the gallery looking on knew what was going on, they could have been as entertained as I was watching this guy’s face as he read the article.  You could almost hear the hissing of the wind leaving his sails.  When this happens to the pompous, it is a real treat to behold. 

WTF?! (and other Great Phrases You Won’t Hear from a Politician)

WTF?! (and other Great Phrases You Won’t Hear from a Politician)

One of the myriads of “rights” we give up, elected officials, is the right to call a spade a spade.  Oh, we can “straight talk” all we want.  But, let’s be honest, most of that straight talk is the repeat straight talk sound bites we’ve all heard before.  What we really need is the ability to punctuate with curse words, as necessary.  For the purposes of posting this to an unknown-aged readership, I will try to avoid showing off the bad words I know by using code.  I reserve the right to use words I can find in the bible, even if used FAR out of context.

While I am not suggesting that cursing is a sign of an intelligent mind or a full and robust vocabulary, it is unfortunately what our audience understands these days.

For instance, if I could just come out and call my state party chairman an “ass clown,” it would help readers understand just how foolish the grass roots folks in the party were to appoint him chairman, that his continued leadership of the party is a scary joke (clowns are scary), and exactly why we have an ongoing feud.  “Jackass” might be more accurate, but that is about his personality (which everyone already knows, so it would not only be vulgar – but wasted- use of perfectly good cursing). 

And, while tweeting “WTF?!” would accurately reflect my reactions in real time to actions by my colleagues, local lobbyist lies, and the press, I can’t really post that on Twitter.  Rather, I have to find polite ways of saying something is wrong, stupid, immoral, or embarrassing.  It is the “F” in “WTF” that is all too well understood by many and prevents me from even tweeting a well-understood acronym, even though in contemporary society, it would be the most succinct and accurate remark (not to mention it keeps me within my 140 character limit).

I can’t tell you the number of times I have second-guessed myself when I initially employ nicer bad words like “damn,” “hell,” and “crap.”  The first two are in the bible; the last one is commonly used in prime time TV. But, alas, no one wants to hear or read their elected official using these perfectly tuned words of punctuation.  So, I edit.

Sometimes I think that one of the reasons everyday people feel disconnected from politicians is that they are always such damn goody two-shoes in their public speech.  Hell, even Mormons cuss – albeit they make up their own nonsensical lexicon to do it.  But, you won’t EVER hear one of my LDS colleagues say “that’s a bunch of jungle” or “this freaking fool” or my to-date personal favorite “oh, bungee-jump!” in a public setting.  Even THEY know that a fake cuss is a real cuss to their brethren LDS listeners on the outside.  Well, that and other people would think they were freaks for saying nonsensical phrases.  I won’t touch that, though.

So, the lesson for the day is that if you want to know what many of us fighting the good fight for you REALLY think, just add profane adjectives intermittently throughout our speeches and editorials and tweets.  When in doubt what to use, I will suggest you utilize the European favorite that can be used most flexibly as either a noun, adverb, verb, adjective or stand alone expletive.  (Hint: it is the “F” in “WTF.”)  This will produce the closest to reality sense of the passion we have on our issues and maybe help relieve the misconception that we don’t relate and don’t really understand your own passions on these issues.

Thank you.  

Skin Growth

Skin Growth

In the early days of my career, I got a crash course in growing layers of skin.  The whole idea of social media was yet to develop, so there was a propensity for flame wars to crop up when folks would engage in the chest-pounding activity of using their CC: and “Reply All” email functions with gusto.  Never a wallflower, I have had the ability to run smack into big egos all over the world.  Even before politics, people felt compelled to publicly judge my opinions, actions, etc.  When you are the one doing the real work, whether it be the PTA or the block captain for Neighborhood watch, there are always those annoying people who essentially don’t do shit, but they sit around like armchair quarterbacks and bitch about how the people actually giving up their time and treasure are getting things done.  This USED to cause me a great deal of duress.  I was, after all, born with the same amount of skin as the next person. 

After awhile, though, I began to recognize these losers for what they were… they create a drag on society and the negative energy they spread is more about their insecurities than about the failures of the people they constantly (publicly) criticize.  You know when you have isolated their particular brand of ill-equipped psyche when you REALLY piss them off with simple questions like, “So, did your mom not love you enough?” (of course, they miss the sarcasm and think about your question literally and they send you their treatise on how great their Mom is), or the less openly aggressive, but very passive aggressive, “I hope that your future is filled with more affection and hugs than you must have received as a child.”   If I am feeling particularly sassy, I may throw in  “Your level of emotional outburst is clearly out of proportion to this situation.”  Then, you can follow up with either:  A)    “Has this cycle of self-loathing been going on awhile, or is this just a bad day?”  B) “Would you like a little time to get your emotions under control so we can continue this dialogue in a more useful way?  I’ll wait.”  or, C) “I am going to pray that whatever is ‘really’ going on in your life works out soon because it is obviously causing you to lose your ability to work well with others and could eventually erode all of your relationships.” (this should only be used if you are disciplined enough to actually pray for the jackass and mean it… Do NOT mess with evoking the creator unless you are sincere and committed to the follow through). 

I recognize this way of dealing with angry and obnoxious people is a bit risky.  I also recognize that I will NOT, in fact, be able to make all of the American people treat each other with common courtesy and basic human respect.  But, I have developed a special knack for shrugging off attacks and not taking them personal, as the years have gone on.  And, I am convinced that if more of us simply would say to the shop-girl-who-is-giving-you-the-stink-eye-and-answering-your-very-simple-questions-contemptuously, “Are you having a bad day?” we would discover through this basic inquiry that she has her own reality, just as we do.   And, we’d recognize that in her little universe, she is barely surviving my decision to spend money in her store because of something very real going on in her life and mind.  Perhaps more importantly, it would show a shred of compassion for said shop girl that she really needed today.  And, in return for this undeserved flash of kindness, she will nearly always A) recognize she is being a bitch, and B) humbly then go about giving you the best service you can expect from anyone on any day. 

So, I have these little philosophies that I have learned to employ over the years that have allowed me to become somewhat immune to attacks by goofballs.  That isn’t to say that I won’t read something and get mad, or maybe even throw out a choice expletive in a never-sent draft response post.  But, I don’t let it deter me from my work nor do I internalize their hateful comments where they could do real harm.  So, I have developed various strategies to deal while waiting for my extra layers of skin to come in.  Here’s another biggie…

It might surprise you to know that most smart elected officials don’t read the blogs.  I am among that group.  Other people close to me read them and let me know when certain themes are emerging and spreading so that we can determine what, if anything, we need to do about it.  I almost hate to admit this, as there is something satisfying knowing that all of you hateful kooks out there are up all night chomping on chips and drinking your coke zero thinking that you are somehow hurting me or affecting change.  There is a little satisfaction in knowing you lost sleep and I didn’t.  There.  I said it.  So suck it you sad pathetic angry little man.  That said, please keep reading mine. J

B.S. – Racist too Dumb to Realize

B.S. – Racist too Dumb to Realize

There are long hours and sometimes many of those hours are spent in a holding pattern, waiting for the other cogs in the wheel to line up properly so the process can move forward.  It is in the midst of this waiting game that you see the walls of careful invention begin to come down and colleagues begin to speak their minds.

So, one day, we are having a discussion about the problems of illegal immigration and the burden on the country, as a result.  Please note: immigration isn’t a problem, by nature.  Illegal, unorganized, unregulated immigration, is a problem.  It costs the taxpayers a ton and is a very real national security issue that must be dealt within the midst of a rather serious discussion about solutions and unintended consequences, a colleague sitting nearby pipes up and offers his own assessment of the roots of this problem.  Please note also: These are not my words or a reflection of my personal beliefs.  My inside voice will speak in italics.

The guy starts like this: “Well, it is no wonder Mexicans disregard our immigration laws more than any other group.”  Do tell, oh mentally stunted one.  “Everyone knows that the Mexican government is corrupt and that there is a whole culture of corruption all across Mexico.  Those people just don’t have a concept of the rule of law.  They can’t help it, really. “

To wit, I ask, “So are you saying that Mexicans are, by nature, criminals?” Surely, he will pick up my cue to back peddle when I tee this up for him to fix.  He answers, “Oh definitely.  How can expect someone from a culture of corruption to ever grasp the concept of following the law?”  Some things can’t be fixed, I am thinking, so might as well have some fun with this knuckle head.   

I put on my best act of being truly inspired and eager to hear more and say, “Wow.  Well that really explains a lot.  So, I guess we should assume that ALL Mexicans, whether they came here legally in the traditional paths of immigration or by sneaking through the desert, to be suspect?”  At this point, I am sure he is going to see the flaw in his retarded logic and start swimming for the shore.  Instead, he replies, “Probably.  I mean, there no sense putting yourself in a risky situation with an unknown.”

Yes, it is true.  There IS no test for I.Q. or even a measured amount of common sense or a basic ability to utilize logic in order to get elected.  Racists are everywhere.  They work in your company and they have worked in mine.  But, this little episode was very eye opening and made me A) Happy for term limits and B) Glad this guy didn’t give a lot of speeches in public.

Stories from Behind Security - The Preface for B.S. to Come

Stories from Behind Security - The Preface

A wise philosopher once said, “There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics and The Great Pumpkin.”  Ok, so it was Linus Van Pelt, a Peanuts character that said it.  But, it is wise, nonetheless.

When I fly, ride a bus, take the train, or sit in any inescapable situation with strangers, I have a rule.  I don’t tell people who I am or what I really do for a living.  We will call this the Linus rule.  Why?  Because political discussions with the average person who isn’t deeply involved tend to either become heated or nauseating very quickly (and I have nowhere else to sit in these situations).   Most people get their ideas about politics, government, campaigns, and politicians from the newspaper, TV News (dear God), and blogs.  As such, it is like discussing the finer points of high quality sushi with a pre-schooler while he munches on Cheerios.

But, there are those occasions when I am “outted” by a well-meaning host at a dinner party, wedding reception, or the like.  I have found that the best way to survive the political junkies of any ideological persuasion (and keep the peace so I will be invited back) is to revert to story telling.

Story telling is a family tradition and can fill “my end” of the conversation through all courses of the meal and well into the coffee/cordial period of the event.  I’ve got a bazillion stories that hail from behind the security doors of our building.  And, since most people who have never served in office have a very messed up idea of what we do all day, they eat these stories up like dessert came early. 

Over the course of my blog experiment, I will share these “stories from behind security” with you all.  I hope you enjoy them as much as my fellow dinner guests and occasional airline flight “friends” who manage to figure out my identity hours before we land.  I will title them with the appropriate acronym preceding each title (“B.S.”) so you can find them easily, either to read them or to avoid them.  I’m a user-friendly distributor of  B.S. stories, after all.  Enjoy.

*EXPLANATION OF THIS BLOG*

About the Blog

By way of introduction, I should tell you that I have been in elected office for several terms now and my growing cynicism is not from a natural aptitude for being cynical.  As such, I optimistically still hold on to a glimmer of hope that I can make a difference if I persevere in this nutty business.  It is certainly important enough to try, at very least.  Besides, I have travelled internationally enough now to recognize that while the American political system is shoddy and full of problems, it is still the best thing going in the free world.  (read: you have nowhere to go, in case you were thinking of shopping for a better homeland).

Because I want to be able to write enough useful inside glimpses into the “real” process, without destroying relationships that are vital to my ability to do my job, I am going to be forced to intentionally change names, locations, etc. so as not to allow some super bright reader to figure out my identity or the identity of any of the characters (and I do mean “characters") that will be highlighted here.  Essentially, you are going to get the transparency you crave because no one’s rear end will be on the line here.  That said, I am going to mention folks by their real names once in awhile when I think they deserve a real “shout out” from Americans for their good acts.  I know that this sounds a bit hypocritical, but it is my blog and I get to make the rules here.  So, this being a free country, you are hereby permitted to stop reading and go about your way if you find it offensive or wrong that I am picking and choosing, as the blog author, when I will “out” people and when I won’t.

Warning: I know how to write in complete grammatically correct sentences.  You will note, however, that I regularly choose not to.  Please save your grammar-correcting amateur writing critic comments for someone who cares.  This is going to be like a conversation and in real conversation, only nerds speak solely in complete sentences.  Got it?  Good.  (See?  It works.)

Oh, and one other thing:  I take requests...  Dying to know the insider perspective on something you have heard rumored?  Ask me.