Every few years we, the citizens of Missouri, trudge out to local schools and churches to cast a vote for one of the campaign signs that dot the highways.

We make our decisions, for the most part, based on party allegiance, or campaign commercials, or who we hate the least. These individuals are then given the task of running our government and spending our tax dollars.

Within the walls of the Capitol building in Jefferson City I once heard a legislative assistant say of their Representative, “She’s not a person she’s a politician.” For the most part I would be inclined to agree. Public office, for all its benefits, seems to have the unfortunate side effect of robbing someone of their personal identity and assigning them another one, inaccurate or otherwise. Though we view our local politicians with a slight slant, spending time surrounded by the people who make our government work (or not work on a bad day) brings into sharp relief the fact that, public as they may be, real people run Jefferson City.

In one committee hearing, after a particularly tedious House session, several Representatives spontaneously erupted in a chorus of “Proud to be an American,” minus the words they couldn’t remember. In between discussing the state of immigration in Missouri and what’s to be done about floodwater, they talk about how many miles their job has put on their car this session. In a cramped elevator I once heard two female Senators discussing the benefits of lipliner while in another corner Representatives took a few joking cheap shots at each others current bills. But how can you blame them? For every controversial bill that gets splashed across the news there are two or more one-page, minor corrections that require attention.

One Representative carries a toothbrush in his briefcase, because some nights, after a lengthy debate over whether or not a typo should mean the end of a bill, it isn’t worth the long drive home. He’s not in my district, but he’d have my vote.