Murder, 101: How to stop the killings.

Another dead body, just another day in Chicago. And the world. Eh, all I have to do is turn the page and it's gone. Oops, there's another story of a promising young kid gunned down in broad daylight for no reason. Take a sip of coffee, skip ahead a couple of pages. There, all better. Oops again! Islamic Militants killing UN workers for...insulting their God? Nope. Practicing another religion? Infidels!! Nope again. For trying to help the sick? To quote Col. Hans Landa from Quentin Terantino's brilliant Inglorious Bastards, "That's a bingo!" Where did it all begin? And where will it all end? I don't know about the crap on the other side of the world, but here at home, I have an idea.

I have given up on trying to figure out what exactly won't piss off Islamic Militants these days. You draw a bad cartoon, somebody dies. You make a bad movie, somebody dies. You tell one that their mother wore combat boots, someone dies, despite the fact that she probably really did wear combat boots. Most likely during inception, but I digress. So it was with a shrug of the shoulder and a weak, "eh," that I took in today's news that a police officer protecting a group of U.N. workers in Pakistan was killed by motorcycle riding attackers straight out of a James Bond movie. Their crime? Attempting to vaccinate the local kids from polio. The reasoning? The attackers believed the workers were spies attempting to sterilize their Muslim children. Well, as sick as it is, at least they have a cause. Lunatics who choose to kill in the name of their God are just that. Lunatics.

But, at least raving, rifle waving, Islamic militants have a cause. Completely unlike the rampant youth lobbying volleys of lead at innocent crowds of kids that had somehow not been sucked into the very life that would ultimately be their demise. Today was just another day, but within a few miles of the house I was working in yesterday, at the very time I was bending pipe and pulling wire, a couple of punks without a soul stole the lives of two innocent people, causing immeasurable grief to two family's, whose lives now will never be the same. The first story is all too common. Fifteen year old, promising student at a college prep school, described as a "walking angel", mom was on the verge of moving to the burbs, killed in a park blocks from her home. I've heard it too many times before.

The second story is even more heartbreaking. Mother loses second son to gunfire, twenty seven year old father of five, killed a block from home in the area of the exact same store his younger brother was killed in less than 2 years ago, trying to get a certification for an honest job. And, I swear I am not making this up, this pales in comparison to the murder last week of what was the fourth, the fourth of four children to die in the same family. How can one human being be expected to deal with that kind of tragedy and heartbreak? Could you actually go on, losing all four of your kids? But all of this is not new. This kind of shit goes on 24/7, in all corners of the globe. So why the long lament? Because I think I have a solution.

Saw a bumper sticker the other day, and old marine saying. Kill 'em all, let God sort it out it read. Nice, right? But there is some method in that madness. Remember the old series of tough guy movies from the seventies? Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson, Chuck Norris, and so on. Always, in the end, they would sort of go all vigilante on society. The bad guys would be dead, and sure, they would get yelled at by their Captain. But in the end, the world was a little safer. Okay, bad analogy I know, but here's the rub. In Pakistan, or Algeria, or Iraq, or wherever there is this pervasive lawlessness and militants kill at will at the drop of a hat, it's a faceless enemy. But here, back home, in Chicago, these kids, these fatherless monsters, these gangbanging losers with no life, no future, and no soul, they have a face. Somebody out there knows them. Somebody knows who killed Hadiya Pendelton and Devin Common yesterday. And they choose to do nothing.

What if they made a phone call? What if they told a priest? What if they joined forces with other like minded members of their community and drove the bad guys out? But what if they got a gun and put a hole in the forehead of the piece of shit that just ruined a family forever? Would anyone care? Or would they applaud?

Cain vs. Abel

What a week I had. No, I wasn't frolicking in the surf of southern Florida. Nor was I schushing down the slopes of Jackson Hole, WY. Likewise in hiking the Rocky Mountains, partying in New Orleans, or buzzing the music scene in Austin, TX. I have done 3 of the 5 in my lifetime, but not this week. This week was a test of moral character. A battle between the part of my brain that wants to cling to ethical values, let's call that part "Abel", and the one that pays the bills in our house that we will call "Cain". I would be proud to say that in the battle of wits, Abel stood triumphantly over the smoldering body of Cain, but for any of you that have heard the story, that's not exactly how it played out. And as it was many millennium ago, Cain wins.

A few months ago, Abel was minding his own business. Trudging along, trying to let his voice be heard in a world full of Cains, he felt lost. Confused. Even belittled at times for being himself. Wondering what his place was in the world. Cain, however, was doing fine. Not thriving, but not dying either. You know, toeing the line. Both were co-existing for the sake of the their long lost cousin, whom we will call Irwin. (No idea where that came from.) Irwin you see, is the part of my brain that controls my sanity. The one that intervenes when diverging paths threaten to upturn the apple cart and let my brains go spilling into a vast crevasse of ethereal nothingness. He usually wins, but he usually has the help of a couple of friends named Mr. Moscado and Mr. Cuervo. Irwin needs to win. He will pull out all of the stops to ensure triumphant victory. Trouble is, Cain has really been fighting back these days.

Abel found out recently that he is under attack. He really has no means to defend himself, so, in times of insurmountable pressure, he turns to Irwin. Irwin, with the help of his friends, convinces Abel to chill, and chill he does. For a couple of days anyway. But Cain plods merrily along, knowing that a battle is brewing. But brewing it was, and came to a head this past week. Irwin was no where to be found, as it was 1:00 in the afternoon and the services of Mr. Moscado and Mr. Cuervo were unavailable. As formidable as a Knight in shining armor may be, without his sword and shield, he is only a paper tiger. There was Abel, alone on the battle field, staring face to face with the un-intending casualty of this war on her own soil. He could have told her to join forces with him in order to vanquish an evil foe. But instead, he chose not to risk her fate with his, and mercifully threw himself in the oncoming path of the thundering train that was bearing down upon them, with Cain at the helm.

Some of you out there have been in this situation. Some of you have had the option of bitch slapping Cain in the face and saying enough is enough. It may be as easy as changing trains at the station for some of you. But for me, if I get off this train, there is not another one. There is no station. Nor is their a cab or a bus or even a flippin' rickshaw to help get to the next one. If I get off this train, I am at the foot of Mount Everest, needing to climb to the top on my own to board the next train. Only there are no Sherpa's around for miles to help me carry my load. So a decision was made. Proud? Not on your life. Pragmatic? It's what I am clinging to. Are you confused? Join the frickin' club.

None of this light is wasted.

There used to be a time, way back when, that we used to pull a large flat piece of grooved vinyl from a protective sleeve, or not, place it on a spinning wheel, and place a small needle into it's grooves. At that moment, the stereo speakers would crackle to life, and out poured the most beautiful sounds the ear can behold. And when you listened to all that side had to offer, you flipped it over, and repeated the process. Thus you heard the album in its entirety, exactly as the artist wanted you to hear it. Did we listen to the whole thing out of respect for their artistic integrity? Were we too lazy to physically pick up the needle and move it to a new space? Or were albums back in those days just so damned good that every song was a musical masterpiece? Probably a combination of all three, but in today's digital world, songs are plucked out of the stratosphere and downloaded into a device that was smaller than a cassette tape, bypassing the artist's attempt to weave you through a story of their making. I still choose to purchase the "album", well not the vinyl, but the smaller digital disc we call a "CD". I just can't help but to still refer to them as albums.

But way back then, you couldn't sample a song or two before you purchased it, you only had the radio. If 1 song from the album made the radio, it was enough for you to run out and buy it. If 2 or 3 of the songs out of the 10 or 12 were great, you knew you had a keeper. And if you couldn't help but listen to both sides, or all 4, over and over, it was iconic. My all time favorite album, The Wall, by my all time favorite group, Pink Floyd, is in that category. I can still to this day put it on and not stop until 1:46 of Outside The Wall faded to an end. But today is a crap shoot. I am too lazy to look up all of the songs, sample them one by one, and make a decision whether or not to plunk down the $12.99 for the neatly cellophaned package. I just buy the damn thing. Some bands you just take a chance on, and thus was the case when I heard that the Foo Fighters had just released a new album, Wasting Light.

Now you may or not be a big fan of the Foo, but I am. Every music lover has that sound, that melody, that guitar lick, that makes the brain go, "aahhh." And boy does Dave Grohl have my number. From the first unholy sounding notes of the opener Bridge Burning to the ringing power chords of the closing Walk, there is not a bad song on the album. Hell, there is not a bad 10 seconds to be found anywhere. Even with the simple act of pushing the >> button on the cars CD player, you know, to jump over a less than listenable song, I find myself lapping up every second of this piece of musical wonder. I can't help but singing aloud or in my head, days after it has been put back into its little plastic enclosure, from any one of the songs. Rope, Dear Rosemary, Alandria, every song has one of those melody's that grabs me by the ears and shakes my head. Back and Forth, Matter of Time, it goes on and on. I still remember the day I bought the "album", ripping off the wrapper like a little kid on Christmas. The first song ended and I was all like, "wow." Then the next song began, and I was all like, "wow". On and on it went, each time saying to myself, "Is it the next song?" You know, the one where you wouldn't be tapping your hands on the steering wheel, or singing along to the harmonies. The one where you knew the artist was actually human, capable of writing and releasing a bad song. But it never happened.

There are plenty of CD's I have bought recently that have that one song that made me buy the "album", only to be disappointed by the bulk of the work. Like the artist tricked you by putting out the one song that didn't sound much like the rest of the "album". Ray LaMontagne did it to me with "Trouble." John Mayer did it to me with "Born and Raised". Perhaps I should go all new age and listen to the songs before I buy them. Then again, I really miss the days when you could run out and by the latest Led Zeppelin album without so much as hearing a note, and know that you were in for something wonderful. Maybe with all the focus these days on recording the next hit, and not he next great "album", artists have lost their way. But thank God there are still guys out there like Dave Grohl that "get it." That it's not ok to throw together a bunch of crap for the sake of wrapping it around one great song. Maybe you can't stand the Foo, and think all of that is crap. But beauty is in the eye, or ear, of the beholder. To each is own. One mans trash is another man's treasure. And so on. But if If I could say just one thing to Mr. Grohl, it would be, 'I know you are a man and so am I and it goes against all of nature, but I want to have your baby,' 'I really love your new album.'

UPDATED!! 2013, the year of the....

So it's 2013. Whoop de doo. This year will see some nice big numbers for The Guitarman, and not all the good kind. 20, good. As in years married, no one thought we'd make it this far. Love you hon! All in all, we raised a couple of good kids, and we still have our health. 50, bad. Yes this will mark the half century for me, the eyes are going, the gut is expanding, the pants are getting wider and shorter, I mean really, what possible good can come from this? 450,000, good and bad. Good that I won't be among those Americans that now have to dole out a whopping 39.6% of their salary to pay the federal government for the pleasure of being a citizen. Bad that I don't make a half a million dollars a year. But what else will this year bring? Gun control? Gay marriage? Legal marijuana? Maybe yes to all three, but I want to look at what the year could look like if a few choice citizens of this world just faded from the public eye never to be seen again. A very special 5 in 5 for the new year.

Hugo Chavez: Battling cancer, the frail Venezuelan President is clinging to life. Now I am not going to outwardly hail his demise from this earth, but any man like Chavez that boldly calls for the destruction of another nation, in this case America, has no place in my heart. Hey, Venezuelans love him, in theory. At least that's what I read. But are they brainwashed to the point that they don't know right from wrong? Venezuela and Chicago have a number in common, 500. In 2013, Chicago passed 500 murders for the year. It's bad here. But in December of 2008, the city of Caracas eclipsed that number. That's in a month. At the time, it was the per capita murder capital of the world. And don't forget the political corruption that returns Chavez to power every six years. What's not to love about that? No, no, the world would be better off if Chavez wasn't in power, and it appears the only way that is going to happen is if cancer wins.

James Komaniecki: Well unless you are an avid reader of this, um, blog thingy, then you are saying, who? Let me fill you in. JMK is the president of RestoreAmericanLiberty.com, a lunatic fringe if there ever was one. They believe, and very strongly I might add, that the sanctity of marriage should be confined to those that are between a woman and a man, thereby taking away basic liberties, that he enjoys every day of his life, from a group of people not bound to his extreme idealisms. They believe that gays have made an immoral lifestyle choice, and have so sinned in the eyes of their version of God, that they would deny them the chance to live as an equal. That they can be cured from this malady of being gay, just like they can be cured of something like cancer. There is no place in civilized society for lunatics hell bent on ruining the lives of people they will never even meet. But there is hope on the horizon, as the times they are a changin', and JMK and his band of Komanieckiites will hopefully fade into the sunset of 2013.

Michele Leonhart: The current head of the DEA has a job to do. Part of that job is to enforce the drug laws in this country. But to do so blindly, while common sense as well as public opinion tell us otherwise, is showing that her true colors lie with her personal convictions, and not those those of the office she is to uphold. Despite campaign promises to leave decisions on the argument of legal marijuana to the states, Obama appointed this pot-aphobe to do otherwise. She is cracking down on dispensaries where it is legal, like Wyatt Earp in the old west. Under testimony before a Judiciary Subcommittee, she was asked if pot was worse for you than heroin, crack, and meth, and each time answered with a non answer. In her eyes, and those of the federal government, a hit off of a joint is like sticking a heroin needle in your arm. Clearly she has tried them all and is basing her assumptions on personal history. So despite the fact that the country is finally coming around to not only see the medical benefits of natures wonder drug, but to end the prohibition against it's recreational use as well, she has still got the holsters on and is blasting away at anything that moves.

Hillary Clinton: The beauty of blogs, of course, is to allow ones self to state personal opinion without boundaries. Hence when I say that HRC is a loathsome wench with personal goals driving her unabated ambition to be all thing Red, White, and Blue, I am merely stating that I hate her guts and hope to God that she will not run again for president in 4 years. Why? Because the name Clinton has been hanging around our necks for too long. Because she is/was/always will be about personal goals. Because the Clinton's make the word "election" more about telling us what we want to hear than what they actually believe. Because Barack Obama beat her at her own game, and if she is the best that party has to offer in 4 years, we are in serious trouble as a country. Now recently, she has been having some health issues and as of this writing has a blood clot lodged in her brain. If just maybe that clot would work it's way to the part of her brain that controls her ego, and nudge it along it's way, then we can have a conversation. But until then, Hillary, please, just please go away.

The Guitarman: I mean seriously, would you miss me even a little bit?

UPDATE!!

Since the writing of this, er, um, blog thingy, a familiar name jumped into the spotlight, and I feel compelled to add his name to the dubious list of "People who should go away for the common good of man." He would have made the original list on his past actions alone, but now more than ever I need to shine the spotlight on him.

Cardinal Francis George: For those of you that don't call the Chicago Metropolitan Area your home and don't pray to the rosary, ie: Catholic, let me introduce you. CFG is the head of the Archdiocese of Chicago, the most powerful Catholic in all of Illinois. I think. But in any case, he joins my list because he has failed as a leader of men. Let's jump in the way back machine a bit. For years, he not only turned a blind eye to the lusting pedophile priests in his ranks at best, but at worst actually hampered investigations into the scandal. Only when the media turned the Catholic world upside down by exposing the world wide gentleman's club did he come clean and and denounce the would-be rapists among his clergy. But now, he is demanding of our local leaders that they abandon the campaign to legalize same sex marriage in Illinois. One would expect Cardinal Francis George to uphold archaic Catholic dogma by slamming the rights of the LGBT community. But the true insult is how he makes it so inviting to be a member of his flock by mentioning a “special mass” for them, and also maintains that the church gives them a path to “covert to God’s ways.” Gee, what self-respecting gay person would say no to that? In reality, he is basically saying, ‘we don’t want you co-mingling with the rest of us, and we believe your lifestyle choice can be cured.’ Oh, and forget your basic human rights that marriage provides to everyone else in his church. His reasoning? Aside from his version of what God wants for all of us, he says there is no way to “consummate a marriage.” Being a Catholic priest, I am sure he knows from personal experience what that means exactly. Maybe we should ask Daniel McCormick. Or any one of the 85 priests in the Chicago Archdiocese that have been accused of molestation, that he has shielded from prosecution. Why anyone would listen to George and his outdated views is beyond me. There is a little thing in the constitution about the separation of church and state, and clearly the Cardinal has crossed that line. Listen, you want to keep gays from “infecting” your flock, or denying them communion, or whatever makes you sleep better at night, go for it. But please stop telling the rest of the world how to run their lives, and for God’s sake, let the politicians do their jobs without your religious interference.