Elk Crossing is a fictional city. The problems are real.

I've spent over 20 years in the public sector.

It's a place unlike any other. Sometimes it feels like a civic funhouse. The absurdity is real, but so is the purpose. And somewhere in that tension, I learned that humor is how we survive.

People thank me for my military service. But in my municipal service, I’ve been yelled at in public meetings, threatened over zoning rules, and blamed for problems I didn’t create. Still—I showed up. Like we all do.

Because deep down, we believe in community. In fixing what's broken. In making the world a little better, one crosswalk, ordinance, or spreadsheet at a time.

Most of us could make more in the private sector. We stay because we care. But as a boss, a peer, and a public servant, I’ve often wished there was more I could offer: bonuses, recognition, something to say "you matter."

The system doesn’t make that easy.

So we found the workaround.

We laugh. We build community.
And we put our tokens—literal and symbolic—into something we believe in.

Welcome to 501(meme)3. Think of it as an umbrella corp to Elk Crossing.
It starts with cartoons. It ends with a movement.

Stay Tuned.

The Council is convening.

We're working on a mission and vision.
Creative projects.
Governance documents (the fun kind).
And maybe, just maybe, a new kind of civic movement.