“Are You F-ing Kidding Me?” or Why I Could Never Survive in Political Office

I’ve come to an uncomfortable realization: I would never last long in Political Office. Not because I lack the passion, work ethic, or sense of civic duty- but because I have a mouth that refuses to cooperate with the concept of “indoor political voices.”

Too many times a day, I find myself reading the news, scrolling through social media, or opening an email from an official source, only to blurt out—sometimes loudly, always passionately—“Are you *f-ing kidding me?!” followed closely by classics like “Are you really that stupid?” or “WTF?” or, when words fail entirely, a deep sigh followed by, “Oh God, they’re speaking again.”

If I were sitting in the House chamber, that mic would stay red-hot. I’d be the one caught on C-SPAN muttering, “You’re just an ass,” as some colleague launched into a 12-minute filibuster about something they clearly didn’t read past the headline.

The Perils of Political Decorum

Congress has this unwritten (and some written) rule about “decorum”- that sacred expectation of keeping a straight face while people say things that defy both logic and gravity. You’re supposed to nod, smile, and address one another as “the distinguished gentleman or gentlelady,” even when said gentleman or gentlelady couldn’t find a fact with both hands and a flashlight.

That’s where I’d fail. My poker face is about as stable as a folding chair in a windstorm. The second someone suggested that cutting benefits helps veterans “in the long run,” my expression would launch a thousand memes.

The Honest Kind of Frustration

But here’s the thing: my outbursts don’t come from disrespect- they come from deep respect. Respect for truth. For decency. For common sense. For the everyday people who have to live with the consequences of decisions made by people more focused on party lines than human lives.

So when I yell at my laptop because someone on the Hill thinks that veterans don’t deserve timely benefits, or that surviving spouses can “just get by,” it’s not anger - it’s advocacy trying to claw its way out through my vocal cords.

If I Were in Office...

If by some miracle I did get elected, my campaign slogan would probably be, “Vote Seals: Because Someone Needs to Say It Out Loud.”
I’d have the shortest tenure in congressional history, but at least it would be honest. Every hearing transcript would read like a stand-up routine written by a furious civics teacher:

“With all due respect, sir, that’s not how facts work.”
“Madam Chair, could we get a reality check amendment added to this bill?”
“If ignorance were taxable, we’d balance the national budget.”

A Dream of Common Sense and Common Ground

Still, part of me can’t help imagining what could happen if the veteran community—all of us—stood together with one clear, common goal. Veterans, families, caregivers, surviving spouses, all speaking with one voice instead of scattered whispers.

Imagine that kind of unified power. Not partisan. Not performative. Just a community saying, “We’ve had enough of the nonsense - let’s fix what’s broken.”

Maybe that’s the Congress I could survive in: one where honesty isn’t punished, where truth isn’t a casualty of politics, and where saying “Are you f-ing kidding me?” is less an insult and more a shared wake-up call.

Until then, I’ll keep shouting at the headlines from my desk, coffee in hand, muttering my favorite phrase - “You’ve got to be kidding me” - while turning that frustration into action.

Because maybe I don’t belong in Congress.
But I sure as hell belong in the fight.

As an explanation of the language and attitude conveyed in this post (and others)…. This is my Dad, SSG Robert D. Wood, Vietnam era 5th Special Forces Group Sniper.