The iCongressman Read Online Free PDF

swears
otherwise, I don’t belong here. After all my time in Special Forces and in
front of a classroom full of students, I fancy myself a doer, not a talker.
With so many problems facing this country, I wanted to be a part of the group
responsible to help figure out solutions. If such a body of people exists, it
certainly isn’t Congress.
    Now I am left questioning everything I thought and hoped I
knew about the American government. As a high school history teacher, I read
countless books about how the Framers debated and argued over the document that
became our Constitution in the summer of 1787. I always thought that, despite
watching the posturing the bloviating politicians engage in on Meet the Press , behind the scenes would
be different. Out of sight from prying cameras is where the real negotiating,
debate, and compromise was done. Damn, was I ever wrong.
    “Congressman Bennit,” a voice announces from behind me with
the volume of a wall of concert speakers. The marble and ceramic tile floors of
the Capitol’s hallways exaggerate every noise, no matter how muffled. The echo
of a single conversation requires both parties to talk at a near whisper unless
they want their words broadcast to everyone in the vicinity. On the occasion
where a crowd of more than ten people gather in the hall, the resulting din
sounds like the end zone of a Seattle Seahawks home game.
    “I’m Francisco Reyes, proud representative from the great
State of Texas. I’m glad to finally have the honor of meeting you,” he says
after catching up with me and shaking my hand with serious enthusiasm.
    “Please, call me Michael.”
    “Only if you call me Cisco.”
    At first glance, this guy is pretty unimpressive. He has
typical Latino features—dark hair, dark eyes and a mocha skin that acts as a perma -tan. He may be short in stature, but he strikes me as
big in attitude, charisma, and likability.
    “Fair enough, Cisco. I want to thank you for being the ‘plus
one’ on my censure vote. Siding with me on anything is the kiss of death around
here. Why’d you do it?”
    “Since it’s apparent we icandidates are automatically
persona non grata around here, I figured I would just spend the next six months
pissing people off,” Cisco says with a smile that leads me to believe he is not
only serious, but enjoying his work.
    “Yeah, well, you’re off to a good start then. This must be a
memorable first day for you.”
    “Are you kidding? It took me forty-five minutes to get in
the building this morning because the Capitol Police thought I was a
landscaper.” I laugh at his self-depreciating humor, although part of me
wonders if there is an inkling of truth to his words. “It’s not funny. I’m
tempted to show up in my lawn mower tomorrow just to complete their image of
me.”
    “At least they are thinking of you. I’ve become nothing more
than an afterthought around here. The sum of my legislative aptitude is the
remarkable ability to collect censures and reprimands.”
    “We all have our talents,” he replies with a chuckle. Cisco
is a guy’s guy. I’ve been talking to him for two minutes and can already tell
he’s the Real McCoy politically, and someone I could share a beer with at a
Yankee game. “You would think with a looming showdown over the debt ceiling and
budget for the hundredth time, the parties would have something better to spend
their energy on.”
    “In my short time in Washington I’ve learned important
things get done only on the precipice of a crisis. Until the political risks of
inaction exceed the risk of doing something, both sides are content to play
chicken with each other.”
    “And the rest of America gets screwed in the process.”
    “Exactly. Tell me something, Cisco.
Why did you decide to run for your seat?” I’m assuming he didn’t lose a bet, so
I am curious why someone would willingly sign up for this. Although I suppose I
did too when I ran the second time.
    “You know, I followed you