Get the Message - Writer's Cramp - 869 W

A letter to the local Congresswoman poses concerns and questions.

Get The Message?

The Honorable Lucy Helvalcka
U.S. House of Representatives
2456 Gridlock Avenue
Washington, D.C.

Dear Congresswoman Helvalcka,

          Let me start by saying it's an honor to write to someone with your legendary track record. After 34 years in Congress, you've earned the nickname "The Human DVu" in your district's local trivia contests. You've promised us a new highway, a community center, and "revolutionary drone-delivered healthcare." So far, we've received a moderately functional park, a "revolutionary" drone that crashed into the mayor's pool, and endless blame-shifting. But hey, at least the squirrel population has stabilized. Let's talk about how to keep your next 34 years (or not) from being a long-running rom-com where everyone groans at the sequel's plot.

1. Balancing the Budget: You're the Host, not the Guest at the Feast

          We've all seen you wave around budget proposals like a magician at a TED Talk, promising "fiscal responsibility" while the deficit grows like a TikTok challenge. Here's a radical idea: treat the budget like a college student's post-finals spending spree. Do you know how they buy a $700 mattress from some dishonest guy, then panic when the credit card bill arrives? Multiply that by a million, and you'll understand the current administration's fiscal strategy.

          To fix this, how about you stop throwing money at problems like a toddler at a buffet? For instance, your district's "infrastructure Renaissance" could start by fixing the pothole near the elementary school that's been labeled "Mount Doom" by the kids. Allocate funds as you'd budget for a road trip: prioritize gas (read: critical needs), not just souvenir t-shirts (read: dubious art installations). Consider voting for the Budget Transparency Act, which would require politicians to explain spending in fewer than 140 characters. If you can't tweet it, it shouldn't be in the budget.

2. Helping the Poor and Middle Class: Beyond the Photo Op

          When you give speeches about "lifting our working families," we picture you in an Oscar-winning performance--nose slightly red, eyes glistening--as you accidentally quote your third-cousin's motivational LinkedIn post. But let's cut the drama. The poor and middle class don't want a highlight reel; they want a lifeline.

         Raise the minimum wage, but not just enough to make it legal. Make it enough to buy a loaf of bread without needing a second job. Bonus points if you frame it in a way that doesn't sound like a capitalist typo.

         Expand affordable childcare. Why let parents choose between daycare and a kidney transplant? If Congress can fund a space program, it can invest in a childcare program that doesn't involve teaching kids to play on a trampoline while you nap.

         Cancel student debt. If you can't cancel it for everyone, start with your district. Imagine the joy of a young adult who could finally afford a pumpkin spice latte instead of just dreaming about it. You'll gain a lifelong voter.

          And please, for the love of all that is sacred, stop blaming "systemic issues" like a teenager who missed curfew. If the system's broken, fix it if you can; if you can't, reschedule it like a Zoom meeting.

3. Term Limits: Because Even the Squirrel Population Knows When to Rotate

         Ah, yes. The elephant in the room. You've been here 34 years--longer than my dog's interest in the mail carrier. Let's address the elephant (or was it the dog?). Why not champion a four-year term limit for all legislators? Picture it: politicians would learn to play the long game--or at least long enough to finish a single mandate.

         Term limits would do wonders:

         Fresh ideas: No more "retro" policies that belong in a time capsule with vinyl records and dial-up internet.

         Less corruption: How much influence peddling can one person do in four years? Surprisingly, not much. They'll spend all their time on their exit tour.

         Healthy competition: A barista from your local cafe would bring a latte art-inspired healthcare plan. Stranger things have happened (see: the drone in the mayor's pool).

          Sure, you might lose your Congressional "hall of fame" status, but you'd gain a legacy as the great grandparent of reform. Plus, you'd finally get to enjoy retirement before Medicare starts covering your bunions.

          Congresswoman Helvalcka, you've got the charisma of a disco ball and the maneuverability of one, too. But hope springs eternal! With a budget that doesn't require a mathematician to audit, policies that don't make your constituents side-eye you, and a term limit vote that could be the exclamation point on your career, you've got a chance to go out on top.

          If not, your district's trivia teams will keep roasting you with questions like, "Which Congresswoman once promised us all a public aquarium, a hoverboard tax credit, and literally anything but another parking garage?" The answer: "Still Lucy Helvalcka!"

          But we can do better. Together. With humor. And maybe a few reality checks disguised as "constituent concerns."

With hope,
Amily Foster
Student of Political Science, Aspiring World Changer,
and Taxpayer

P.S. If you're reading this and thinking, "This kid is bold, but they just don't understand the nuance," take it as a compliment. Some of us are tired of nuance that looks like stagnation. Give us boldness--and a working pothole repair plan.

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