"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt

The Washington Times' November 30th cover story running under the headline "CNN takes outrage for planted questions" mentioned my name and my question about whether any of the candidates intended to repay the money borrowed from the Social Security trust fund. The article inferred that since I had previously been trying to get the attention of our Illinois Senators (Democrats Barack Obama and Dick Durbin) in regards to my ideas for Social Security reform, that I should now somehow be ineligible to ask a question of Republican Presidential candidates.

As to my political affiliations, I am neither Republican nor Democrat--I am an American. As Americans, I believe our first allegiance should be not to any one political party, but to the country itself.

And while I'd certainly like to clear my good name, I'd much rather focus on the issues. After all, the real "outrage" should be that neither of the candidates actually bothered to truly answer my question.

Nevertheless, I've decided to set the record straight, if for no other reason than people are always writing to ask me how things are going, and this may be a good way to bring everyone up to date on my story.

I'll never forget the day I had to pack what little I owned into the back of my pickup truck. I returned those apartment keys to the leasing office, paid what I owed, and then drove off into the unknown. But at least I'd been able to finish my research, and there was now a freshly printed copy of the PACT America report on the seat beside me.

I soon found work as a welder, and I'd volunteer for as much overtime as I could get, often working 12 hour days, 6 and 7 days a week. If I remember correctly, there was a stretch that summer where over the course of about 5 weeks, I never took a single day off work. I just kept my head down and kept welding.

I was working the night shift, and would get home pretty late. Then I'd sit at the computer and type until my eyes were literally too tired to see. At the time, I couldn't afford any design software, so I coded the entire website from scratch, teaching myself as I went. Most days I'd stay up so late and work so hard, that in order to make the next day's shift, I'd have to run across the parking lot with my lunchbox so I could try to punch the clock before the whistle blew.

It was a hot summer, and I guess working so many hours in the heat while wearing a welding jacket was starting to catch up with me. I was burning metal, but it was also burning me out.

One day they told us the President of the United States was going to give a speech at our plant. I could hardly believe it, but figured his visit must be divine intervention or something like that. Surely this would finally be my chance to meet the President and give him a copy of my plan. Nope. I wasn't even allowed to attend the event.

Then one day I got word that my brother would soon be graduating from the Army's basic training program. I desperately wanted to be there, but could hardly afford to fly down there for it. I found out there was a train that travels all the way from Chicago to Atlanta. The only catch was a layover in Washington D.C.

One day on my way into work, I found a penny in the parking lot. I picked it up, and took a long look at the Lincoln Memorial engraving on the back of it. I had never been to our nation's capital before, but figured that if the President could visit my place of employment, then surely I could visit his.

I even went to the men's store in town and bought a dress shirt and a new pair of pants. As tall as I am, it's hard to find pants long enough to fit right, and for the first time in my life, I paid to have a pair hemmed to length.

Shortly thereafter, the gas lines on my truck completely rusted out, and the truck started leaking gasoline at a steady pace. I drove it around like that for quite awhile, because I wasn't about to spend the rest of the money I had worked so hard to save for the trip.

So I took that train, and wound up meeting with a few legislative assistants, one for Senator Durbin, the other for then Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert. I presented my ideas, but it was obvious that I wasn't being taken too seriously. The staffer for Senator Durbin was at least nice enough to give me her business card.

That business card and the events surrounding it soon turned into a big story in the local newspaper. I told the reporter the truth about everything, but the part about Senator Durbin's office helping me came out sounding a lot better than the reality. Sure, that staffer had replied to a few of the e-mails I had sent her, but that was as far as it ever went.

One day I realized that no one was ever going to listen to what a welder had to say about public policy. So I quit my job. It was really that simple. The only problem was that I chose to give my notice via a scorching letter, one that was printed in the union newspaper. My words rang true with many co-workers, not so much with management.

Needless to say, local employers weren't in a hurry to hire me after that, and I now faced the prospect of losing another apartment. But I was determined not to let that happen, because this time I had nowhere else to go.

I was still unemployed when I attended the townhall meeting where I presented Senator Barack Obama with a copy of my plan. Only a few days earlier, I had been invited to speak at an event to which no one showed up. Now I was at the center of attention in the midst of a packed auditorium, and felt that surely my chance had finally come.

Despite a few brief mentions in local newspapers, nothing ever really came of that encounter. Even though I knew he was extremely busy, I had hoped the Senator would eventually find the time to read through my plan and get back to me. Times were still tough, and for about six months after that, the highlight of each day was the 10 seconds or so it took to check for mail. But I was checking for a letter that never came.

Somewhere during those days, I found myself at the Army recruiter's office. I was still out of work, and was getting pretty hungry. I took the Army's practice exam, and finished in a matter of minutes. The recruiter said it was the first perfect score he'd ever seen, but then again, I figured he told everyone that.

For about the first 18 months since dedicating myself to Social Security reform, I never managed to get breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in the same day. Most times, it wasn't that I didn't have enough money to eat, it was that I didn't have enough money to both eat and finance my reform efforts. Those sacrifices didn't really bother me so much, because I firmly believed that I would succeed.

I ultimately decided not to join the Army, as I thought it would take nearly as much courage to finish the mission at hand. That mission being my efforts to make a difference with PACT America.

I finally secured part-time employment working for the Illinois Secretary of State. I soon became quite good at my job, and it gave me satisfaction to help all the people that came into our driver services facility. I may not have been a high-ranking government policy advisor, but I truly enjoyed serving the people of Illinois in such a capacity.

After about six months, I received a full-time job offer from a firm located in downtown Chicago, and I took it.

Many was the day I'd work late, sometimes even past midnight. Then I'd walk down the empty streets of Chicago, trying to make it to the station in time to catch the last train of the night.

Every day on the way to and from work, I had to pass Senator Obama's Chicago office. Finally one day just before Thanksgiving, I decided to bring him one of my handmade cutting boards. I've always been pretty good when it comes to woodworking, and figured that if I gave him one of my famous cutting boards, then maybe I'd finally hear back from him. So the next day, I went to his office and dropped off my gift, which was accepted by his receptionist.

Around that same time, I also sent a cutting board to Steven Levitt, the University of Chicago professor and author of the best-selling book "Freakonomics." I had just started reading that book, and was shocked when I realized that the book I had been enjoying was written by one of the only professors to respond months earlier when I had sent out thousands of e-mails to economics professors all over the country.

I soon received two thank you notes. The first was from Mr. Levitt. A few weeks later, I received the second. It was from Mrs. Levitt.

It was time to regroup, and for the next year, I focused my full attention on working and making money. After all, I wasn't exactly making too much progress with politicians, or for that matter, the media, and I was growing tired of the constant failure, rejection, and disappointment.

Plenty of time passed, but that burning desire to help the country never left me.

Months later, I was editing video footage taken when my brother and I rented a Shelby GTH-350 in Las Vegas. It was my first experience editing video, and I found that I really enjoyed it. I wanted to learn more.

When I uploaded that video to YouTube so my brother could watch it, I noticed an advertisement for people to submit video questions for the Democratic Presidential debate. I soon made a question of my own, but it wasn't selected for the debate. It was quite disappointing, as my brother happened to be home on leave that week, and was really hoping he'd get to see it on TV.

Nevertheless, I resubmitted that same video for the Republican debate, and even submitted a few more questions to better my odds. The rest is history. Given my past experiences, I'm not expecting a whole lot to come of the fact that my video was played on CNN. But I'm going to keep working at it, and one of these days, I've got a feeling I'm going to make a lasting impact.