I did run for office once. It was in a small town of 1200 people, and many of those people were fed up. I was unknown, as I had only lived there for just under 2 years, and kept to myself. I got talked into running because the guy who owned the small auto body shop who repaired my car after I hit a deer, his wife was running for village board president, and they talked me into also running. There were three positions for village trustee, and two of the three people running were incumbents, and the board was going to be swayed against this prospective mayor's leanings on expansion. The board in power had approved two developments, totalling 660 new homes, to add to our 400ish home village. The water treatment facility didn't have capacity for these 660 homes, and would have to be expanded at an additional cost to ALL of us, and yet the current board was considering another development of over 1100 additional homes, which would more than triple the size of our little village in no time at all.
It was too late for me to get on the ballot, so I registered as a write-in candidate. Working lots of overtime at the time, I didn't have much time in the two remaining weeks to campaign. I sent a post card to each home, and one afternoon a friend and I went door-knocking.
Basically, no one knew me, and my name wasn't even on the ballot. There was virtually no chance that I would get elected.
On election day, after they threw out a bunch of my votes (no idea the number) because of irregularities (spelled name wrong, checked write-in but didn't write my name, wrote my name but didn't select it), I won one precinct but lost overall by 3%. Not bad for an unknown. The only thing people knew about me was that I wasn't Pete (the incumbent that a lot of us wanted out).
It was quite a neat experience, and I don't know if I'll ever do it again (I now live in another state), but that's my running for office story.
A lot can be said of people who are fed up. I think that there are probably more of us fed up than we think, but none of us are organized. And of course, the minute we organize, Uncle Obamessiah will send guys with suits, dark glasses, and earpieces knocking on our doors...