The old coin toss: you can do better.

Growing old has it's advantages. I am perpetually amazed that as the big Five-Oh is slowly creeping up on me, gray hair has still eluded my head. I recently grew a full beard for the winter, and an old friend from school asked how on Gods green Earth did I not have any gray. Clean living. Ahem. But the advantages of which I elude to are more in line with the impeccable wisdom one acquires as they reach the end of their time. Am I the next Dhalai Lama? Ghandi? More like Benny Hill. But if there is one thing The Guitarman has learned while tapping away at the keypad over the years, it's this: bore your audience once too often, and they cease to be your audience. So, a pre-apology is in order as tomorrow is election day in Illinois, and well, I can't help myself.

Rick Santorum: What is it about this guy that tells us he has any business running for president? Declaring Satan has set his sights on America, in 2008 he said at the time of Obama's position on abortion, “This is not a political war at all, this is not a culture war at all, this is a spiritual war.” Wrong, wrong, and wrong again. The man sitting at the big desk at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. must be able to work with his fellow politicians, he must be able to bridge the divide of the many different cultures in this country, and he must not be a polarizing right wing-nut intent on dragging the country in a religious debate. So please fellow Illinoisans and all you others yet to vote, take a pass on a man who wants to run this country from his heart, not his head.

State Rep. Derrick Smith: Nothing to see here folks, move along, move along. That's what US Rep Danny Davis wants you all to do. It's just another Chicago politician busted for taking a bribe, no big deal. Happens every day. Only it happened last week. While Smith is running for election. It's one thing to be an incumbent fat cat sitting back and holding sway over all of your domain. It's another to actually campaign on that. "Vote for me and I will bribe your district into glory!" But the worst part? Davis and his posse of alderman admit that being secretly recorded while allegedly accepting a $7,000 bribe is in fact "bad". There not even arguing the point. They want you to vote for Smith because he is NOT that most vile of politicians, a Republican. I am going to place a bet: Smith wins by a landslide.

The Duggars: I am not a big fan of most reality television. I can watch a few episodes of Bath Crashers, Room Crashers, Yard Crashers, Survivorman, Man vs. Wild, Wife Swap, Buried Alive, I shouldn't be Alive, The Voice and, wait, what was I saying? Can't remember. But one show I have never watched is 19 and Counting. You know, that deeply Christian family that keeps having kids because 1) the parents won't stop having sex, and 2) they won't use anything to prevent a pregnancy, and 3) they are challenging that family from Monty Python's Meaning of Life for most kids by a set of parents. Why do I bring them up? They are stumping in Illinois for the fore-mentioned Santorum. Really. Yea, that's what Chicagoan's want to hear. We are in massive debt, we can't afford to keep our homes, we are out of work, we still can't carry a handgun on the street in Illinois, businesses are leaving the state, BUT we will all be saved if we elect this truly righteous man to the presidency. Sign me up.

Judges: I admit, I couldn't name one judge running for election in my district if you asked me now. But ask me tomorrow and I will give you a few names. Only because I believe that the mostly overlooked races for judicial seats are more important than any other names on the ballot. Everyone knows who is running for president, most people will recognize the name of their State Rep's, but nobody has a clue who these people in robes are. And that's a shame, because if there is one person running for office that can have a direct impact on someone elses life, it's the guy, or gal, sitting across from you in a courtroom. And nothing can ruin a person's life faster than a bad judge with a vendetta. So join me tonight in doing a little homework. Get to know those names you gloss over on a ballot before you decide. And you really don't have to do much work. There are endless amounts of groups that vet the candidates and rate them so you don't have to. Here is a good place to start: http://www.isba.org/judicialevaluations

One last thing, GO VOTE!! We can't get anything done in this country if you don't vote, and you don't care. We now return to our scheduled nonsense. Next week: how to turn rutabaga into diesel fuel.

1, 2, 3, 4, should I add just one more?

Had a gig Saturday night. It went OK by my standards. Actually, a little to the low end of the OK side. Missed a few chord changes, muffed a harmony or two. Had one good moment there for about 20 seconds when I hit that feeling like you're not really playing, you're watching your fingers move but you're not controlling them. Sort of an "out of body" experience? Maybe that's a bit too melodramatic. But all in all, a sub par night. But you'll have to excuse me one bad night, I did have to learn 21 songs in about 10 days with one practice backing up a singer that I met an hour before the gig. Oh yea, and did I mention that this is my 4th band?

See, up until now, I bet you thought "The Guitarman" was some mighty honor I had bestowed upon myself, not knowing if I was a guy who sat around in my underwear strumming some beat up hand-me-down with 5 strings, or indeed a true lunatic who can't seem to find enough things to clog up his time with, touring the dredges of northern Illinois every other weekend in some vain attempt to achieve musical notoriety. Of the latter I am guilty, to the point of insanity.

Stayin' Late, my main band if you will (and I only concede that because we have been together the longest...6, 7 years?), gets regular gigs, we have a blast playing, we make decent money, we all get along, no egos, no expectations, we just mesh together well. I wanted to play out more, ergo make more money, so I joined a great bunch of guys in Axe. We are tight, have a great guitar player Ron, and again have a lot of fun. One Friday morning I get a call from a bar owner desperate for a band for the next night. Stayin' Late guys are busy, Axe didn't have enough tunes yet, so 3 phone calls later, Mule Train was born. Without a practice, we jammed hard and rocked the joint full of bikers at a birthday party. Bar owner loved us, and the band lives on. And finally, a good friend offered me a chance to be a part of a new band that is up and coming, and hopes to make a big splash on the bigger stages. Great lead singer, solid group of musicians, Sinners and Saints has a chance to really take off.

But, running diatribe on my life aside, I beg the question to you, the loyal reader. Am I insane? I mean, as a guitar player and a singer, I believe a lifetimes pursuit of becoming an entertainer should be more than just a hobby. If I can make a few bucks to actually call it a second "job", does it justify all the lugging of equipment, the weekend nights out 'til 1 or 2, driving to hell and gone for a gig? But 4 bands? It really isn't as bad as it sounds, though. Stayin' Late might practice before a gig. Mule Train will play its second gig this week without having a practice yet. Axe has, for the most part, got it's set list down and needn't go every week. Sinner and Saints is new and I need to put the time in until we get tighter. So it's not like I am out every day of the week. But I really need to know. Am I insane? I mean really, am I?

Is it time for a mid life crisis yet?

Ahhh, the weekend. No work, no driving, all rock and roll and booze and parties and movies and skating and knitting clubs and...you get the drift. It's when we can be "me" and not "that guy that looks like me but trudges to and fro to bring home the scraps of bacon." Had a friend ask me to go out with him to see Michael Schenker, he of the UFO fame, on Thursday night. I graciously bowed out citing monetary concerns, and in actuality was thinking, but it's not the weekend yet. I know, lame. I really didn't want to plop down the $30, and my Friday night was going to be huge, so I didn't need some crazy Thursday night shenanigans messing up my weekend.

So there I found myself, bottle of wine, remote control, flipping between the Bulls and the Blackhawks, you know, partying hard. It was only when I awoke at approximately 12:30 that I realized I had no memory whatsoever of the second half and/or third period of said games. Yes, looking forward all week to my Friday night, and I was out cold by 7:30.

Now sometimes, I find lately that as the sandman robs me of my Friday night, I will wake back up, and watch some movie that I have seen 10 times before, in a vain attempt to reclaim my lost evening. But last night, I gave in, and went to bed. Hence at 4:45, as I tossed and turned trying unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, I did the math, and figured I had been asleep for nearly 9 hours. What self respecting 48 year old actually sleeps for 9 hours? I tried for a little early morning nookie with the wife, but apparently "5am" and "nookie" are teenage folly. So I got up.

Whew! All that partying takes the wind out of your sails, right? Not like in my carefree youth when wrapping up an all night session of D & D (Dungeons and Dragons for all you non-nerds) at 4:00 or so. Followed by a trip to Denny's for some steak and eggs or the like. Yea we partied like rock stars and we knew it. But seriously, somewhere between college and waking up one morning to find that you're the dad of two brooding young teens, what the hell happened? Please don't say it to my face, but yes, I have become my parents. The old folks who stay in on the weekend.

OK, truth or dare? Truth. I manage to keep somewhat active playing in, at last count, the vestiges of 4 bands. At some point over the summer, I will no doubt have a busy schedule of playing nearly every weekend, bringing home a few bucks so that it actually qualifies as my second job. I'll be, for at least a fleeting moment, the Rawk Gawd I had always dreamed of being, staying up until 1 or 2. And it is at that moment of the night, when you're packing in your gear, and the last vestiges of your friends are sucking down the last beer of the night you realize one sobering thought: these peeps came out to have fun, party to some rock and roll, and get hammered. How do they do it? If not for the band, I would be asleep on the couch, remote falling from my hand to the floor, slight drizzle of drool dripping from the corner of my mouth. Well, I guess there is always Saturday night. Now all I need is a couple of Red Bulls and some Viagra and I'm golden.

5 in 5.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. When life gives you tomatoes, you make spaghetti sauce. Made that one up. When life gives you inspiration you blog about it. And when it doesn't, you do the next best thing. You write 5 topics in 5 minutes. Okay, maybe 6 today. Minutes that is. Unless you are an Evelyn Wood leftover from the 70's.

Super Trooper: Nothing like a tale of inspiration to start off the day. A state cop risked his own life reaching into a burning car to pull out a woman, wedged in there like a contortionist. She had crashed into a toll booth, her air bag deployed, her hair full of blood, and she was unconscious. His natural instincts kicked in, and he put aside his own sense of self preservation to save the life of a complete stranger. And then the tale of heroics turns to one of anger. You see the woman, who was taken to the hospital in serious condition, was then promptly arrested for being drunk and driving on a suspended license. If you don't have the common sense not to put your own life in danger, how can we expect idiots like Erin Murray to have any regard for other people's lives? Her charges should be upgraded to endangering the life of the cop, her mangled and smoldering car should be set on her front lawn as a reminder, her rights as a free citizen should be revoked, and she should spend a few years behind bars. These people just don't get it.

Nine: Interrupting my morning cadence one day a few weeks ago, I was jolted into a stark new reality. My ongoing feud with my backyard squirrel(s) had now reached a tipping point. At first, I thought it was the work of one lone wolf, er, rodent. Then I realized one was more like 2 or 3. Ahem. No fewer than nine, count 'em, nine squirrels had figured out that my back yard bird feeders were the natural worlds equivalent of a Golden Corral. They scurry up my "squirrel-proof" pole, they launch themselves through the air from my "squirrel-proof" cover, and generally gorge like Augustus Gloop on the seed meant for the birds. I erect obstacles to thwart their advances. I bang on the window. I throw things at them. I run out and shout "Haaahhh!" at the top of my lungs. I kind of feel like Sigourney Weaver in the Alien series. They just keep coming back no matter what I do.

Nukes: We got 'em. So does Russia. We hated each other for years, yet no one ever was crazy enough to push the button. Saner minds prevailed, and the nuclear escalation of the 80's died down. But they are still out there somewhere. In bunkers, in silos, they sit in calculating silence. But there is solace knowing that the leaders of our nations are men with a conscious, and know full well the consequences of a nuclear detonation. But not Iran. Not this crazy lunatic Ahmadinejad. Do they really expect the rest of the world to believe that BS about it being for peaceful means? Of course not. They know we know. And we know that they know we know. So what can we do about it? Do we sit back and let Israel do what they do best? Do we stop them? Do we join them? I am scared of what the world is going to look like the day after some suicide bomber walks into Israel's parliament and blows himself up. I know we are war weary. I know we shouldn't be the worlds policemen. But if Iran gets the bomb, it could be the beginning of the end. Think I am kidding?

Honest Mistakes: I admit, if I was an Afghani citizen, I would be skeptical when the USA says, "Oops, sorry. We didn't mean it." After all, that country has endured years of occupation. Not just by us, anyone ever remember Russia? An errant bomb or bullet here or there, killing civilians, will tend to tilt the population against you. But in this case, it wasn't an explosion or any shrapnel taking some innocents life. A few books were inadvertently burned. And not just any books, they were Quran's. To some Muslim's, you might as well have pissed on their parents grave. Or shot their grandmother. Or raped their sister. Once again, lives have been lost, and this time 2 American soldiers among them, all because some religious nutbag felt like we disrespected his faith. Hey, you want us to respect you? Then don't go all Rambo on us every time life doesn't go exactly as planned, when a few pieces of paper are destroyed, or someone mentions the name of your god in an unflattering light. As Sergeant Hulka famously proclaimed, "Lighten up Francis."

Censorship: I used to think this was a free country. Yea, used to think that. Back when I was in second grade and that's what they told us. But as the GM rides out his little pseudo-journalistic adventure as a self appointed "blogger", I realize that, alas, I am not. In my previous attempt to be witty, I ranted about my displeasure with a certain member of the lizard family, and his annoying little foreign accent. It seems one is not allowed to name names, and in doing so, I angered the cyber gods. Shame on me, for saying the name of a certain insurance company that spends more money on advertising in one day than some industrialized nations spend in a fiscal year. My account was suspended as I broke one of the rules when I checked the little box at the bottom of a 642 paragraph disclaimer that I never bothered to read, stating that I accepted their terms. It's funny. I have made references to brand names in the past, but was never called on it. I guess when your opinion is cast in a negative light, the dust you stir up wafts all the way up to the powers that be. But the one thing I am really thinking? Who is really reading this shit anyway?

Got a recipe for Lizard stew?

I generally don't hate. Much. Oh the occasional bad driver, a few politicians, a couple of brands of beer, some teachers from my long forgotten past, the Kardashians, rap "music"...wait, where was I? Ah yes, me not hating. But all of the aforementioned dislikes have never compelled me to actually buy a t-shirt stating my displeasure with this or that. Er, almost forgot the "Anyone But Hillary" shirt during the last election. May have to dust that one off again in 4 more years. But I recently went online, and designed my own, custom made, one-of-a-kind protest to the most annoying little creature that has ever graced our lives: the Geico gecko.

I can't put it into words, but when I hear that little British accent telling me how to save 15% or more on my car insurance, I want to bash my skull in with two bricks. Nothing against British accents, it's just this one. Oh at first, the ads were clever, and for a time, he was cute. Then cute became passe, passe became redundant, redundant became annoying, and annoying morphed into seething hatred, a deep loathing of this vile little creature. Why? I am utterly sick to death of hearing that voice.

Enough already! Radio spots, television ads, in newspapers, on banners stretched across the tollways, and yes, even in the skies. During the summer, airplanes fly overhead at sporting events with the bug eyed image in tow. The little stack of money was dumb, the caveman got old fast, and even the Rod Serling impersonator has been shown the door. At least a few of those were funny. But this stupid gecko? Someone please save me. Isn't there a law on how long an ad campaign can run? With all of the increasing government oversight running our lives, can't someone put a stop to this insanity?

Ok, I feel better now. Rage subsiding, breathing returning to normal, Hulk impulse passing...okay, it's gone. I have been thinking about how to protest against this affront to our sensibilities when I found myself in the car this morning on the way to work. I passed under the twisted evil grin and the penetrating eyes of the offending reptile at the Tollway oasis. Within a minute, the all too familiar British accent came wafting over WGN radio. I changed to WXRT. Within 30 seconds they went to a commercial. Do I even have to tell you what the first spot was? Can you start to feel my pain just a little?

Sweet Jesus, is this what it has come to?

Every once in a while I read that some scientists have made a recent discovery, or released some sort of study, that could possibly have an impact on our future. And I am usually thinking, "They are smarter than me so I guess they know what they are talking about." After all, they probably paid more for their education at better schools (Idaho State University in 1984 was $1800 a semester, and $1000 of that was a non resident fee...GO Bengals!!), they probably went to school longer (maybe not actually longer per se, as my college career was around 6 years at 4 different schools, but I guarantee that I learned less in more time), and they are, after all, scientists, the bedrock of our dominance over all other nations on Earth. That and our ability to be morbidly obese, which of course, segue's nicely into today's rant (lesson).

Tobacco. Alcohol. 2 of the top 3 reasons it is great to be an American (the third of course being rock and roll). We are free to smoke our life into cancerous oblivion if we so choose. Or to drink away our liver until it is nothing more than a Kleenex. If that is the path you have chosen for yourself, then God bless America. But now we have the "scientists", men of impeccable knowledge, and sometimes wisdom, and they have decreed that a new vice will now join the other two to form a triumvirate of iniquity. The devil has a name, and it is sugar.

Yes, that sweet elixir of life, sugar, according to the wise men, is, and I quote, "...a toxic, addictive substance that should be highly regulated with taxes, laws on where and to whom it can be advertised, and even age-restricted sales, a team of scientists contends." Why? Because we are fat, and we can't help ourselves. Because it is hidden in everything we eat and drink. Because Bugs Bunny once famously asked Pete Puma, "How many lumps do you want?", and Pete's response was, "...oh, three or four." Excess has made us fat. It has made us unhealthy. It has lead to skyrocketing diabetes and increased health costs that help drive up the cost of health insurance for all of us.

So what is the solution? Why, more government oversight of course! Please, Uncle Sam, tell me how to live my life, as I am unable to do so in a manner in which complies with the line you have painted on the sidewalk that I must now walk. 1984 here we come. What would George Orwell do?

This is America. We are free to slowly kill our bodies in the manner of of our own choosing. I like sugar. No, I love sugar. The first thing I ingest every morning is a sweet cup of coffee. I bake with real sugar. I buy things with real sugar. No diet anything ever creeps its way into my holy temple. I admit I am blessed with a high metabolism body that burns sugar and fat like sawdust in an inferno. You can check my ID at the liquor store, you can put pictures on my cigarettes of dying lungs, you can even take away my guns, that is if Illinois would let me have one in the first place. But keep your damn hands off of my sugar.

Ti-aye-aye-ime, is on my side.

Some great songs in rock breach the topic of time, do they not? There's "Time Is On My Side" Rolling Stones, "Time of the Season" Zombies, "Time For Me To Fly" REO (umm, thinking about that one...ok you're in), "Time After Time" Cyndi Lauper (good Lord what was I thinking?... scratch that one), and of course, the ageless "Time" by Pink Floyd. We played that one at open mic last week. Could probably go on and on for all time (tee-hee, I am so witty!), but will stick with my first thought instead.

Lets throw a couple of facts out there and see if you can connect the dots. Fact 1: Trial is set for William Balfour, who is the notorious killer, scratch that, alleged killer of Jennifer Hudson's family in 2008. Fact 2: The City of Chicago recently announced a settlement with protesters of the Iraq war that were arrested in 2003. Fact 3: Trial begins on Monday for Mario Casciaro, accused in the 2002 murder of Brian Carrick of Johnsburg. Not too difficult to see the connection here is it? Just why in the hell does it take so long to do anything in this country?

Even in cases of apparent obviousness, year after year, and in one case here a decade go by, while lawyers strut like peacocks before judges and committees, prancing and pontificating, confusing and cajoling, all in an effort to pad their billable hours, so they can go home and upgrade that BMW to the new one that parks itself. But 10 years to bring a man to trial for murder? What could possibly take 10 freakin' years? How cold is that trail now? How many lawyers bought a new house in that span that was paid for by the parties involved? We found Saddam Hussein, and 3 years later he was hanging by a rope. One of the most notorious killers of our time went from one hole in the ground to another in less than a third of the time it took a bunch of suits to put together enough evidence to bring an accused man to trial in this country.

And those are the key words, "this country." Besides our tortoise-paced justice system, everything in this country takes forever. Our elections seem to span a generation. Raise your hand if you are already sick of the word "Romney". And we haven't even gotten past the primary yet. Medical approval of new drugs is usually measured in decades. How many times do you read of a new drug or treatment that could save lives now, only to be held up forever by the exhaustive process of FDA approval. I'm sure people with fatal illnesses would take their chances at life with something that might work. Even the 55mph speed limit is unique. Really, you don't want to get off on that tangent. And did you ever try and get something done with the federal government? Fugetaboudit. We are doing a project for the US Army right now, and every little step is like an eternity. Or go ask any naturalized citizen how long it took them to become one.

But 9 years to decide that giving money to a bunch of protesters was the right thing to do? Some 1,600 years ago the Greek philosopher Sextus Empiricus wrote: "The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small." That was a long time ago, (again, that irrepressible wit...how do I do it?). Today we say, "The wheels of justice grind slowly." I'd like to amend that to, "The wheels of the United States have fallen off a cliff, and they are forming an exploratory committee to choose between Sears Auto Center or Just Tires to buy new ones." Maybe I missed my calling as a slogan writer.

Waste 101: American politics.

One thing the Guitarman has learned on his little adventure through the wonderful world of pseudo-journalism, is that you don't over-burden your reader(s) with inane ramblings every day and a half. Oh I can inanely ramble with the best of them, like the left turn on arrow only intersections. Don't get me started. Illinois politics? You can't shut me up. And since I spend the better part of my Saturday mornings doing my best to conjure up some brilliant, thought-provoking discussion, the last thing I want to do is post a new blog that is before it's time. But I can't. One word has got me going now: waste.

I don't waste anything. I recycle everything in my house. I don't throw leftovers in the garbage. (I think I still have some turkey leftover from Thanksgiving. I use the "starving kids in Africa" line so often that my brooding young teens now use it on each other.) I scold the wife if she leaves the water running in the sink for more than 5 seconds. I have cans full of nails and screws and little bits of hardware in my garage that might have some future use. I am not a hoarder, but am studying to be one.

So when I heard that President Obama was swooping in to his old stomping grounds to raise a little cash for his re-election, it was expected that a large pile of cash was going back with him. But the numbers staggered me for a moment. $2,000,000 in six hours. He was here for six measly hours, less than a working day for most of us. And he raised $2,000,000. And of course, I thought, what a fucking waste of money.

Our schools are broke, because our state is broke, and in turn we are all broke. Except for the lucky few who consider $38,500 a decent price to pay for a meal with Obama. And where does that money go? Into slick ad campaigns designed to fool us into believing the election year rhetoric that gets shoved down our throats. Into attack ads on the opposition that attempt to scare us into voting one way or the other. To date, instead of running the country, he has been stumping and thumping his way to $220,000,000. One more zero and he is in the billions. That is absolutely obscene, that wealthy donors across the country see fit to throw their money in garbage like that. I could make endless lists on how that money could be better spent, but the list would never end. It is a complete waste of money.

I know I am not alone in my sentiment, but just what is it exactly that we can do about it? A mere 10 years ago during the election for Prime Minister in England, the combined total of all the candidates was in the 10's of millions. Here we have one man that will possibly hit the billion mark. Waste. It's all around us. But when the leader of our great nation is the waster-in-chief, the rest of us will blindly follow.

A little of this, a little of that.

What's your favorite five? Five golden rings? Five Finger Death Punch? Hawaii Five-O? Five and dime? Or the Guitarman's infamous five topics in five minutes?

Chocolate:
Who doesn't love chocolate? I mean, how can you not? It's chocolate for God's sake! If you are one of the unlucky few who are allergic, then I feel for you, I really do. But at my house, it's like an all out war to secure the chocolate before anyone else can. Young brooding teen number two has actually licked a piece and dared me to eat it. I have to admit, I considered it for a moment. But I want to know at what point does possession trump greed? I usually get one of the big bars for Christmas in my stocking, but have yet to actually consume the whole thing, before someone else gets their greedy little paws on it. Hey, you want to go all Augustus Gloop on your bar of chocolate? Be my guest. But I want to savor mine a little.

Cubs vs. Bears:
I really like this whole mentality that I am seeing with the Cubs this year. No illusions that pieces of last years team are going to be valuable pieces of next years team. Theo and co. are tossing out the whole stinking piece of moldy cheese and boldly declaring, "We are rebuilding." Sometimes that's what it takes, starting over from scratch. Unlike the Bears, where decades of futility are not only ignored but rewarded. Ownership sees nothing wrong with giving a lame coach chance after chance after chance. Replace a sacrificial lamb or two, and the more things change, the more they stay the same. Unlike the Cubs, they prefer to slice off the little pieces of mold and put it back in the fridge. But when the biggest piece of stinky, moldy cheese is your head coach, you know it's just a matter of time before it grows back.

Election 2012:
If each candidate was a movie, which one would it be? Michelle Bachman? Gone with the Wind. She blew in like a storm, and went out with the bathwater. Herman Cain? The Caine Mutiny. Once the ship started going down, all the rats jumped ship, with head rat Herman leading the pack,. Newt Gingrich? Clueless. It appears that despite his credentials, he just hasn't a clue on how to run a campaign. Rick Santorum? 10,000 BC. That's where he wants to take us with his priciples, back to the stone age. Ron Paul? Make Love Not War. He is determined to let our enemies across the globe know that we will not be sending our troops over there any more, even if Iran DOES develop a nuclear bomb. Mitt Romney? Mission Impossible. Despite everyone saying for the last 5 years or so that we will never elect a Mormon president, it appears that he actually has a shot. And Barack Obama? Liar Liar, no explanation necessary.

Tolls:
Way back when, in our glorious state of Illinois, a new road was built, a super highway, to help those of us who live in the boonies connect with the metropolis that is Chicago. The deal was, that when we paid for the road with our nickels and pennies, the tolls would go away, and we would be free to zip along with no stop lights at the speed of light. But then a funny thing happened as our leaders (swindling con artists) decided that a flow of money was good for our debt burdened state. And the toll umbrella grew wider and more expensive, growing from chump change to actual folding money. Currently, without an IPass, if you want to cross the border to the north, you now have to dole out a whopping $2.80. You know you can eat a meal for that price at Burger King? And let me tell you this: our cheesehead friends to the north that drive to their jobs to the south aren't putting up with that. They get off the tollway, meander their way through my neighborhood, and get back on the tollway on Grand Ave. in Gurnee. The turn lanes at the intersection before they get back on are clogged every morning and night with cars bearing bumper stickers that say "Green Bay Assistant Coach" and plate holders like "Super Bowl Champs". It's enough to make a Bears fan puke.

Music:
Everyone loves music. Well, most everyone. So in a shameless plug, I invite all fans of music, great and small, to come out to Fatman Bowl in LB/Libertyville/Rondout/Green Oaks on every odd numbered Tuesday for the next great open mic night in Lake County. Come to play or sing, or come to watch. Just get out of the house once in a while and support local music. The Guitarman is waiting for you.

Reflections on a lost season.

New year, new ideals? Time for some retrospection. Give up drinking? Nah, too harsh. Give up swearing? Fuck that. Give up on the Bears? Never!! But I tell you what, let's start off the drive for next year with some observations. Things I can't stand about the Bears.

I can't stand it that every first play from scrimmage to open every game this year was a run up the middle for 2 yards. EVERY PLAY.

I can't stand it that when we taste success with a successful run play, we hand off again on the next play 100% of the time. Ever heard of play action?

I can't stand it that Lovie Smith is our coach. I could go into intricate details on the last game of the year alone, (like no replay challenge that could have resulted in nullifying a turnover, losing your star player on defense to an injury while he played in a meaningless game) but I digress.

I can't stand it that when we have a lead, we play not to lose. Instead of, I don't know, actually playing to win?

I can't stand it that there were no more Will Ferrel movie clips during the Matchups segment of the Bears pre-game show.

I can't stand the Soldier Field Turf. Yes, it WAS responsible for Cutler being lost for the season.

I can't stand Jerry Angelo. The man couldn't judge talent if he were a judge on American Idol.

I can't stand it that we were 7 and freakin' 3 and missed the playoffs. Tell me please, what other NFL franchise would stand for that? We missed the playoffs 4 of last 5 years. Will anyone pay the price for that? Don't coaches usually get fired for that kind of ineptitude?

I can't stand Caleb Hanie. 256. Thats the number of players drafted into the NFL every year. And Hanie wasn't one of them. Exactly what is it that Loveless and Ange-blow don't understand about the fact that an un-drafted free agent should never be one snap away from being your starting quarterback?

I can't stand it that once again as real NFL teams prepare to begin their playoff run, the Bears will be emptying their lockers. I mean, sure, I can root for my second favorite team. They are guaranteed to go all the way to the Super Bowl this year. No not the Packers. I haven't lost my mind just yet. My second favorite team is the one playing against Green Bay. At least I got that going for me.