The past of Voterman is shrouded in legends, myths, exaggerations, half-truths, and lies.
Some say he was sent from a distant planet, a planet whose people’s divisive politics had resulted in massive wars economic collapse, famine, and eventually total destruction. From the last beacon of civilization on this blighted landscape, as a mere infant, Voterman was sent to warn and aid us.
Others say he was genetically engineered in a secret laboratory under the Washington Monument, where the most brilliant scientists of the day labored to combine the DNA of our greatest leaders in order to produce a child with their greatest attributes, a child to lead us into the future with the wisdom of the giants from our past.
Still others claim he was sent by the Soviets during the Cold War as a sleeper agent, and that his hidden mission is to undermine our government from within.
These people also believe in lizard-men who live in the planet’s core and cause earthquakes by playing music too loud….so let’s ignore them for now.
All we know for sure is that late one cold autumn night, as Congress was tirelessly working to create the laws that help better our great nation, there came a knock at the door.
So intent upon their vital labor, the good bureaucrats ignored this disruption, remaining hunched over their paper-filled, sweat-ridden task.
The knock came a second time.
The Representatives and Senators, noble and hard-working all, were only human. They swapped hesitant smiles before setting down their pens and seizing the opportunity for a rare break. Clustering around the door, they swung it open and peered out into the chilly windswept darkness.
There, all alone on the steps, was a tiny baby boy. Rather than the normal plush footed pajamas that are infants’ usual garb, he was sporting green and orange spandex. How odd, thought the elected officials in unison, but kind-hearted men and women as they were, they ignored his unusual clothing. The caring civil servants rushed him inside, and laid him in a bassinet lined with vetoed laws and drafts of bills.
They took him in, and there, in the ancient halls of our great nation’s capital, they raised him as one of their own.
The first time he rolled over, it was across a rezoning map of the Federal Judicial Districts.
His first steps took him across the Oval Office, into the open arms of a smiling President.
His first words, spoken to the sitting Speaker of the House, were “Mr. Speaker, I apologize for my inability to voice my opinion prior to this moment. I shall shoulder my duties forthwith, and undertake any and all tasks necessary to achieve the great goals our forefathers laid out for us centuries ago.”
Truly, his was a rare childhood.
Sadly, childhood must end. Too often, innocence departs at the same time.
It was in his tenth year at Congress that Voterman first witnessed one of his towering heroes agree to vote against his party lines in exchange for kickbacks to the official’s own state.
After his eyes were opened to the flaws of his icons, Voterman began to see problems everywhere.
In the forms of dishonesty….
…and sometimes even a complete disregard for the ideals of America’s founders.
Voterman was crushed. He ran from Congress, from Washington, from his heroes and his ideals. He ran until he could run no longer and collapsed, scared, lost, and hopeless….
As he ran, he searched for familiar ground. At first he found it within state capitol buildings, where he felt at home amongst the great columns and vast halls, and where he found solace in the cheerful, open faces of state civil servants. But there too, he found himself crushed by disappointment.
Down the ladder of government Voterman fled, searching for those dedicated representatives who had not lost their way, who were still pure of heart, still dedicated to the nation.
It wasn’t until he reached what many considered the bottom that Voterman realized he had found the summit.
The voting citizen, the crucial building block upon which our great nation is built, within whom the power truly lies, is where Voterman found the true American spirit.
It is there, among us, the people, that Voterman chose to make his stand.
He knows that the wheels of government are slow to turn, and so he looks to the local level for change. He has begun with the school boards, the city councils, the local chambers of commerce. He seeks to bring to them transparency and accountability, so that the fine citizens who choose a life of civil service can hold on to their ideals and honesty while still being effective representatives.
He’s out there, among us. Look for him. Ask him how we can repair the cracks in our broken system, and restore the American dream. He knows. And with your help, we can do it together.