The Patron

Robbie Daymond (0:06)

Imagine, you're in the rotunda of the Capitol Building, striding past the towering marble columns and vast murals.

SPEAKER_3 (0:15)

Your chest swells with pride.

Robbie Daymond (0:18)

Everything you've done over the last 20 years, the struggle, the hard work, and every sacrifice you've made has built toward this moment. You are a duly elected member of Congress. Above you, a mural wraps halfway around the hall, celebrating the birth of the nation. The victorious generals stand front and center, staring heroically off into the distance. They'd never imagine a man like you would one day join them here in the Capitol, far from the humble alleyways of your hometown. But here you are, about to take your place as a representative of the people, the real people who've never had control of their fate in this corrupt country. But that all changes today.

SPEAKER_4 (1:10)

Five minutes until session. Five minutes until session.

Robbie Daymond (1:16)

You smooth your suit, straighten your back, and step through the large oak doors into the legislative chamber. Inside beneath a high domed ceiling, rows of curved desks arc to either side of a center aisle. The boundary between conservatives and liberals.

Robbie Daymond (1:34)

You know which side you belong on.

Robbie Daymond (1:37)

And everyone else in this room does too. Dozens of congressmen and their aides stop and turn as you make your way to the left.

SPEAKER_6 (1:46)

The far left.

Robbie Daymond (1:48)

Perhaps farther to the left than anyone who's ever set foot inside this room before.

Robbie Daymond (1:55)

You take your seat and look around the suddenly quiet room, smiling, confident. You take every look of scorn as a badge of honor. These other congressmen earn their fat salaries by keeping this country under the absolute control of the rich.

SPEAKER_6 (2:12)

You're a threat to all that.

SPEAKER_3 (2:16)

He's here.

Robbie Daymond (2:17)

Thank you, Jesus, for sending him.

Robbie Daymond (2:21)

At least someone here is happy to see you. You look up and wave to a middle-aged woman in a ragged dress, shouting from up in the visitors' gallery. She's one of your people, the poorest of the poor, the ones your new colleagues like to call the expendables, because, well, to them, she is expendable. That's why security is already dragging her towards the exit. But she's not expendable to you. Men and women like her raised you, supported you, voted for you.

Robbie Daymond (2:56)

So, you call up to her.

SPEAKER_4 (2:58)

Don't be discouraged. Soon, you'll be sitting down here with me, where you belong. Can we please come to order?

Robbie Daymond (3:12)

You settle back into your seat and smile as it creaks under your weight. It reminds you of the old wooden desks you sat in as a schoolboy years ago, dreaming of a moment like this, planning your revolution. You survey the sea of self-satisfaction that surrounds you and wonder if these men have any idea that your revolution has already begun.

Robbie Daymond (3:47)

From Wondery, I'm Robbie Daymond, and this is Imagined Life.

Robbie Daymond (3:54)

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to walk in the shoes of someone famous?

Robbie Daymond (3:59)

On each episode of Imagined Life, we take you on an immersive journey into the life of someone you may think you know, maybe even admire, or the opposite.

Robbie Daymond (4:09)

But no one realizes what it felt like to be them before the whole world knew their name. There will be clues to your identity along the way, and only at the end will you find out who you are. So sit back, let go, and imagine your life.

SPEAKER_1 (4:30)

On this episode, The Patron.

Robbie Daymond (4:35)

Imagine you are 12 years old, and the warm noonday sun is pouring through your bedroom window. Pictures of swimsuit models are sloppily taped to one wall, but that's your brother's side of the room. On your side of the room, a crucifix, surrounded by cheaply framed photos of your revolutionary heroes, and motorcycles.

Robbie Daymond (5:00)

You watch the sunlight slowly creep up the far wall.

Robbie Daymond (5:05)

If you were at school right now, like you're supposed to be, you'd be finishing your lunch in that foul smelling cafeteria. And getting ready to endure almost an hour of algebra.

SPEAKER_4 (5:17)

But you had a better idea for today.

Robbie Daymond (5:19)

So now you're stretched out on your own bed, listening to the radio and flipping through a dog-geared brochure for Ducati motorcycles. Your ability to surgically replicate your mother's signature on notes means your absence will be excused without question. Besides, you're making good use of your time.