My Story

by Brendan Smith
Weirs Times Editor

This is my last column before Election Day.
I have been running for governor as the Flatlander Party candidate since 2000.
People often ask me how the Flatlander Party started and that takes up a lot of my time on the campaign trail when I could be doing more important things like bothering people at local diners while they are trying to eat a hot breakfast.
So, here is the story, so you’ll stop asking.
A few of us transplanted Flatlanders were in my basement one night back at the turn of the century. We had all drank a few too many beers and we were getting worked up over the current state of things in New Hampshire government.
I started ranting and raving about how many of us Flatlanders who had moved to New Hampshire from states like New York and Massachusetts had come here because we liked the fact that New Hampshire was a lot less restrictive, and cheaper, then where we had come from. Low taxes and more personal freedoms were the attraction.
Unfortunately, there were more than a few other Flatlanders who moved here and wanted to change things to be more like where they came from, and a lot of them were getting elected and slowly bringing this about.
So, after a few minutes of a beer fueled tirade, I ramped up the crowd in my basement and declared we should start the Flatlander Party to try to steer things back the right way.
The whole thing carried to a frenzied climax of drunken shouting and cheering as everyone hoisted me on their shoulders and carried me out into the street to celebrate the creation of The new Political Party. On the way out of the basement through the bulkhead, I forgot to lower my head and I banged it. (I still carry that dent in my skull today).
We all kind of forgot about that night, suffering from our hangovers the next morning and none of us mentioned it for a while.
It was a couple of weeks later that my friend Vinnie, who was originally from New Jersey, told us that he had gone through the motions of actually registering the Flatlander Party as an official party in New Hampshire. (Still not sure how he accomplished that, but he did.)
We were all a bit surprised, but we decided to go ahead with it.
Now we just needed a candidate to run.
It seems my drunken rant was remembered by the other participants that night and it was decided that I would be the perfect candidate. (The vote was ten to one.)
Was I really the best choice? Would I be able to represent the “Good” Flatlander contingent in the state fairly? Would I look good on a campaign poster? The answers were yes, yes and nothing a little Photoshopping couldn’t fix.
We even came up with what we thought was the perfect slogan at the time: “We Came, We Saw, We Don’t Want To Change A Damn Thing.”
Even though we didn’t want to change anything, we realized we still needed a platform to run on and we came up with some frivolous ideas like seeing to it that there was more New York Style pizza available in New Hampshire and that some inept Flatlanders, like myself, would have to go through a five-day waiting period before they were allowed to purchase tools. (Ten days if they had electric cords.)
Soon we realized that there was only one issue that was important, and it was keeping New Hampshire the way it was.
Even though I campaigned vigorously (whatever that means) and I looked pretty good on campaign posters even without Photoshop, I got about twenty votes that first year (mostly those who selected me to run… and their wives).
Still, the Flatlander Party grew over the years and I continued to be the candidate. My vote tallies also grew and last election I believe I received just under one hundred write-in votes. (It’s nice to believe in things.)
I have met a lot of resistance over the years from FINOs (Flatlanders in Name Only) who have moved here to change things. They’ve used many tactics to try and get me out of the picture. (The great Town Dump riots are still a sore subject.)
I’ve done my best to hang on.
Things have changed dramatically in New Hampshire over the last twenty years. The FINOs have made a lot of headway. Sneaking in new taxes and fees and restrictive laws, they are starting to win.
Our great state motto may soon read: “Live Kind Of Free And Then Die.”
So, in the spirit of that ragtag bunch of Flatlanders who gathered in my basement twenty years ago, I am running again to keep our hopes and dreams alive.
Will I win? Probably not, but I won’t give up.
I would appreciate your write-in vote. But if you can’t do that, at the very least, don’t give it to a FINO.
So, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.