The Guitarman's Guide to Voting in Illinois.

Let me start off by saying that The Guitarman is NOT a Democrat. Nor is he a Republican. I am working in the Green Energy field now, but I am not a Green Party supporter. Nor am I adverse to hanging tea-bags from my hat and spewing such nonsensical ramblings like, "I am not a witch." So what does that make me? A moderate? Where is my party then? Who do I vote for? Well I'll tell you, in the first ever Guitarman's Guide to Voting in Illinois. I know what you are saying, ugh. I'll try not to throw stones, but here goes:

Lake County Sheriff No brainer, it's Doug Roberts. Why? I played a fund raiser for his campaign where I found out that Mark Curran was taking down Doug's campaign signs and replacing them with his own. Scumbag.

Treasurer Easy. Judy Baar Topinka. Judy has...wait a moment, she gave up that post to run against Blago. My bad. I guess I will go with Robert Skidmore. Partly because he is an upstanding guy, but mostly because he is running unopposed.

Comptroller Not even sure what the comptroller does, but I'll go with, HEY, there she is! My old favorite, Judy Baar Topinka. Seriously, she is one of two career Illinois politicians that has actually done a good, scandal-free job.

Secretary of State Jesse White. Why? Easy. The state is broke and it would cost too much to change all of those letterheads and DMV signs already with his name on it. Gee, this stuff ain't so hard. And I was worried about this election.

State Senator and State Representative Umm, that's two different offices right? There are so many of these little buggers running around our state that I don't believe one vote is going to change anything, so flip a coin. Really. It doesn't matter. It's just a resume builder anyway. Just ask Obama.

Representative to Congress Joe Walsh. Two reasons: 1. Melissa Bean ran unopposed in the primary yet still felt the need to pepper my mailbox and answering machine with her campaign BS. What a true waste of money. 2. He's an amazing guitar player and song writer. My Maserati does 185... We're talking about THAT Joe Walsh, aren't we?

Treasurer Dan Rutherford. I have absolutely no idea why. None.

Attorney General Lisa Madigan. I know what you're thinking. Madigan? Really? But her dad...I know, I know. He is a piece of dog excriment. But, seriously, she doesn't play favorites, she doesn't take sides, she just ruthlessly goes after the bad guys (Blago) and isn't that what you want your Attorney General to do?

And now comes the conundrum. The two races that will actually make a difference. Senator and Governor. Do I have to pick?

Senator Undecided. No way I can vote for career democrat, mobster loaning, party-line towing, Obama buddying Alexi Giannoulis. Not to mention that he lost $70 million of Illinoisans' money that they had entrusted him to save for their kids college education. And Mark Kirk? Way, way , WAY too far to the right. Again, voting the party line rather than his conscience, but specifically his stance AGAINST stem cell research. Really? The most important medical advance in decades and your reason is religion? Go back to the stone age dude.

Governor Well it ain't gonna be Quinn. Too many democrats have ruined our state, we need some Yin for our Yang. Brady? He was my early favorite, BUT...He is against raising our nearly lowest in the nation state taxes 1%. One flippin' percent to help our state get out of this fiscal crisis isn't gonna hurt anybody. I am willing to fork over my share so our schools can stop laying off teachers and cutting programs. And he is way too smamry for my liking. Wipe that condescending grin off your face already! Cohen? Riiight. And in a year or two, Lisa Madigan will lead State troopers into his hotel room and bust him for doing lines off of a hookers breasts with a rolled up thousand dollar bill. That leaves me with no choice to do what I have never done. Waste my vote on The Green Party candidate, Rich Whitney. I like his character. Shouldn't that be enough?

A modern fairy tale: Aesop I am not.

Once upon a time, there was a colony of rabbits. It was a very large colony, so big, in fact, that it was decided that one leader couldn't possibly represent the entire group. So boundries were drawn, and local leaders were elected to rule their local groups. Each new, smaller colony was responsible for making it's own laws, to be enforced by it's own police. One of those laws was the making of Carrot Juice. Although some bunnies thought in immoral, others enjoyed its sweet intoxication. Freedom of choice, right?

But, with all this local power, it was agreed that there needed to be one, All Powerful Leader who sort of ruled the rulers. To bring together all the new, smaller colonies, and have them work as one unit for a common good: freedom of oppression from their enemies. After all, cute as they may be, rabbits are pretty low on the food chain. Pretty good in a stew. Fast forward 150 years.

The numbers of colonies grew 4 fold (after all, they were rabbits), and there were so many of them, with so many different laws, it was becoming difficult for the All Powerful Leader to keep it all together. So he did what he had to do, he started enforcing his own set of rules, to be obeyed by all the colonies, no matter if their own local laws said the opposite. Carrot Juice was banned. To those who didn't partake, it was a joyous moment in their history. To others, it was an infringement on their local rights. So they continued to make the Carrot Juice, grand poo-bah be damned. They drank in the shadows and fought with the All Powerful Leader. After 10 years of futility, he realized he couldn't win this fight, so, against his own beliefs, he made Carrot Juice legal again. The colonies rejoiced. Fast forward another 75 years.

At some point in the ensuing years, a couple of rabbits accidentally dropped a few carrots in a fire one night, and breathed in its' aroma. It was an amazing feeling. Different from the intoxication of the juice, but pleasant all the same. Soon they started drying out the carrots, and made Carrot Sticks, which they smoked. It was all the rage. Everyone was trying it. Everyone, that is, except the All Powerful Leader. He wasn't about to let a bunch of burn-outs dictate colony law, so he did what he had to do. He banned the Carrot Sticks. Again to the delight of the non-partakers, it was a righteous decision. But to others, it was another in a growing pattern of intrusion by the All Powerful Leader. So one rather large colony way, way off on the farthest reaches of their land, decided enough was enough. They found that the smoke from the Carrot Sticks was actually beneficial to the health of some of the older, and sicker rabbits. They would let the common rabbits decide with a vote. And vote they did. Against the will of the All Powerful Leader, they made it legal to make your own Carrot Sticks.

But some of the younger, healthier rabbits didn't like the fact that it was OK for a sick bunny to legally enjoy the benefits of the Carrot Sticks, while they could not. If it was actually GOOD for some rabbits, how could it be BAD for others? And who was this All Powerful Leader that he could tell us what is or isn't good for us? After all, it was the All Powerful Leader that was supposed to serve to our will, to save us from oppression from the colonies of the world that would come in and do us harm, not the other way around. So who's law rules the land? The will of the rabbits, or the will of the All Powerful Leader? On Nov. 2 we will find out.

A tale of two shitties. Or three.

He's back. Right when I was not in the mood for him, there he was. I looked into his beady little eyes and I could see the wheels spinning, both of us frozen in the moment. I stared at him, and he stared right back. Of course, I am talking about the squirrel.

Two minutes, three? Five? Finally I blinked.

"Ha!" he shrieked triumphantly. "You humans, with your big brains and opposable thumbs. And what have they gotten you? Nothing!!"

I was taken aback. I had a really horrible day today, and this was all I needed. It started at work with a bang. Being talked down to at age 47 like I am some moronic simpleton by somebody that doesn't sign my paychecks or shares my bed is high on my list of things I tend not to tolerate. Never mind that his nasty halitosis was enhanced by the onions on his hot dog. But mostly a nice guy who admittedly was having an off moment. Never mind, it was quitting time and the day was almost over. Almost.

F*@king duech bag, road raging, asshole screeches to a halt in front of me in the on-ramp 'cuz he thought I was yelling at him. Now, I am no angel, but I did nothing! He gets out of his car, again, in the on-ramp of a friggin' highway, and comes at me. Umm, two words immediately came to mind. Lunatic, and RUN AWAY!!! Okay, it's really three words, but ran away I did. But not before he passed me by and threw (and again, I did nothing!) a tape measure at me. At least it looked like a tape measure, as it missed me by a mile, and it sounded like a tape measure would when it hits the road doing 65. Well, I can only hope that the Illinois State Police will take the license number I gave them and stop by for a little chat with the guy. Day still ain't over.

After a fruitless 15 minutes at the shop, I returned home to be rudely and disrespectfully talked to by brooding young teen #2. Lesson for the day: never try and do homework with her when one or both of us are in a bad mood. And she still wants those $140 boots. HAH! So for my solace, I was left to grab the rake, and attack the back yard. Thus there I was, at the door to my shed, being talked down to yet again. I had had enough.

"You know what? That corn you been munchin' on? You know where it comes from? The corn fairy perhaps? NO! I'll tell you where it comes from you twitchy, buck-toothed vermin from hell! I put it there. Me and my opposable thumbs. Maybe I don't put it out anymore. Maybe I do put out, but dip it in a little anti-freeze, or rat poison first? What do ya think? So next time you decide you want to run out of the old hole for a little snack, just ask yourself. Is today the day? Is today, Jimmy Shaker day?"

And he stared back at me. He looked down at the kernel in his hand, looked back at me, and said, "I'm sorry." It wasn't much, but one out of four ain't bad, I guess.