Accountability 101

Where has all the accountability gone? When I was a kid, I did stuff. And when it was bad stuff, my parents held me accountable. One of my favorite things to do in the winter, was to climb up on our roof, and huck snowballs at the passing cars. As it was, it was harmless enough. I didn't pack rocks in the middle of them, I didn't use ice chunks, and my aim and distance were bad enough that if the offending orb of packed snow crystals did make it in the vicinity of a passing car, it usually splattered harmlessly on the pavement behind, with the faint wisp of tailpipe emissions hovering over the once proud snowball saying, "Haha, you missed." Usually.

Until one day my trajectory and sheer human strength came together as one and exploded on the windshield of an unsuspecting motorist. "Yes!!" I must've shrieked triumphantly. I don't remember exactly what I shrieked. But I do remember the joy lasting about a second and a half, as the guy slammed on the brakes, backed up the car, and got out. I did what any kid would do in that situation: I hid behind the chimney. "You don't think I see you up there?" he hollered. What was he going to do? Climb my roof? Worse. He rang the doorbell and ratted me out. To this day, I have the very distinct memory of my father coming home from work that night, dragging me down the block to the guys house, and watching smugly from the sidewalk as I sheepishly rang this guys doorbell and apologized. But the lesson stuck. I believe, as do most people, that you should be held accountable for your actions.

Fast forward to this morning, reading about some kid shot to death, lying on the front stoop of some guys house he intended to rob. He and 2 buddies tried to force their way into this persons house. They had a gun with them. They meant business. But a funny thing happened next: so did the guy inside. And when the thugs tried to break into his door, he shot one of them. So there the dead guy lay, with a gun still in his hand. And the poor kids mother, now faced with the grief of losing her son had this to say: “He wasn’t in no home invasion.” Really. A convicted felon's corpse is lying on the pavement of someone else's house, with a gun in his hand, shot by the home owner. There were multiple witnesses. And I ask, where is the accountability?

Rewind exactly one day. A group of parishioners are banded together on the steps of their church in unity over the recent spate of killings in Chicago. Now I don't know how many of you out there care, or know, but as far as murders go, this year has been bad in Chicago. Really bad. Let me quote a few of them here. “I wish the violence would stop because they’re taking away our loved ones and it is horrible.” And, “We’re tired of our children being killed, we’re tired of our children being gunned down." The first quote says "...they’re taking away our loved ones." Who are "they"? The second quote says "...our children being killed..." The answer is right in front of them. "They" are "our children". They grow up with no discipline, no fear, and no accountability. The parents, though faced with the enormous challenge of raising a child in the killing fields of northern Illinois, are failing in their job to raise honest, law abiding citizens. These kids need someone to show them the right way to be a human being. But if the parents won't hold themselves accountable, what chance do the poor kids have?

Just one term will do.

I normally like to let the nuances of a previous topic sink in for the better part of a week before I launch myself cruise-missile style into my next rant. Cut me off in traffic? I'll tell you about it. Diss my Bears? You are going to get an earful. And as it is today, touch on a hot potato like this, and you'll hear from me. But I'll keep it brief.

One of my favorite political rants is the election system. And most specifically, the "re"-election system. Bottom line, if you are a sitting member of congress, or the presidency, you should not have the opportunity to run for re-election. Too much time is wasted worrying about what the voters will think, instead of, I dunno, actually running the country. But don't take my misguided word for it. Would the words of the president himself actually do?

At a recent summit in South Korea, this exchange was overheard, " 'On all these issues, particularly on missile defense, this, this can be solved but it’s important for him to give me space,' Obama said referring to Medvedev’s boss, Vladimir Putin. 'This is my last election. After my election I have more flexibility.' " Right. Not exactly damning. But what is Obama actually saying here? That he can't negotiate or converse openly in an election year? Hmmm, why would that be? But it gets better. In actually trying to explain his remarks, he says it again by remarking that he was trying to make the point that he couldn't conduct "thoughtful consultations" in an election year.

There you have it, straight from the presidents own mouth, that he can't fulfill the duties of his office with other world leaders in an election year. What more proof do we need that this is a flawed system? 200 years ago, our presidents did not have to worry about exit polls and approval ratings. They served their time, and then went back to their lives. Mexico got it right, one six year term, and no re-election. Is it so much for American citizens to ask that we elect a president that will actually be a president for his full term, and not a candidate for half of it?

Heaven sent: Chocolate covered joints.

You ever have one of those moments when you had an idea that something was bad for you, only to give in do it anyway? And for the most foolhardy among us, "one of those moments" actually means "every waking hour of my conscious being." Smokers come to mind. And drinkers. And of course those of us who refuse to bubble wrap ourselves in our own protective cocoon from all of the true evils in the world as we ride along on our two wheeled vehicles of choice. But that's not really want I want to talk about today. Do any of us really pay attention to the studies that are done for the common good of man? And lest you think The Guitarman is making this stuff up, I will post a link for you non-believers:

Chocolate: Ahh, the sweet elixir of life. Show me a person who hates chocolate, and I will show you a rotten commy bastard. So it should be of massive relief to those of us with the cocoa bean running through our veins that yes indeed, chocolate can make you thin. According to the study, people who consume the golden standard of confection are, on average, thinner than people who don't. And when I read this next part, I almost fainted: "The study found no link with quantity consumed." Saints be praised! So for dinner tonight, I think we will have a main course of chocolate, with a little chocolate dipping sauce on the side, with some finely ground chocolate sprinkles on top. All washed down with a glass of chocolate milk. Reservations anyone?

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-17511011

North Dakota: Nestled comfortably in the northern reaches of our great country, a recent study suggests that this illustrious state that has brought us such cultural gems as "Fargo", and, well, "Fargo", is on the brink of becoming Saudi Arabia. Recent developments in North Dakota, such as forbidding woman to drive, or vote, or leave their home without a male escort, along with a couple of be-headings for career criminals that jaywalked at a busy intersection, have thrust our northerly neighbor into the national spotlight. Not to mention the governor channeling all of his states income into his own personal coffers. But of course I am kidding. But the study does offer that if we were to start drilling for oil there, "the new Bakken oil fields spanning the Montana-North Dakota border hold the potential for yielding 24 billion barrels -- double the present US proved reserves!" But I understand. This country would rather be held slave to another that suppresses human rights and enriches it's leaders, than to forge ahead on our own. What does it matter? In another 50 years all of the worlds oil will be gone, and we will all be humming along on electric scooters with our little helmets and knee pads.

http://www.adr-intl.com/Bakken_Potential_Impact.pdf

Pot: I can't begin to touch the surface of this hot potato. To date, there have been somewhere in the neighborhood of 20,000 studies on marijuana. It has been illegal since 1937, and since 1970 has held the distinct classification as a Schedule 1 substance, putting it in the same category as heroin. Heroin. Coke and meth, massively addictive drugs that have ruined countless lives are classified as Schedule 2, less of a threat than pot in the eyes of the government. Know any potheads? The word "harmless" comes to mind. Ever hear of Whitney Houston? Died from heart failure due to cocaine use. I think it's time for a wake up call here. "The scientific conclusions of the overwhelmingly majority of modern research directly conflicts with the federal government's stance that cannabis is a highly dangerous substance worthy of absolute criminalization." And then the article goes on to say that not only do the medical benefits outweigh any potential negative aspects of the drug, but should actually be a "first line treatment" for many maladies. So why the full court press to keep this wonder drug of nature out of our bodies? Fear. Fear by our leaders for their own political skin. Fear that if they back this contentious issue they will be thrown out on their ears. Isn't there a single politician in Washington willing to look at the common sense facts, and make a common sense decision? We all know the answer is a resounding no. Wimps.

http://norml.org/component/zoo/category/recent-research-on-medical-marijuana

Alcohol: Headline of this study, "Drinking Alcohol Makes Young Adults Act Stupid." Do I really need to say anything more?

http://www.momlogic.com/2010/01/painfully_obvious_15_useless_studies.php#drinking_alcohol_makes_young_adults_act_stupid

The Last Kiss Goodnight

It was quite a long time ago, many years before they became Brooding Young Teens 1 and 2. Which of course was predated by impish adolescence, which followed screaming brats, cute toddlers, and cuddly newborns.

The kids are all grown now, one off to college in the fall, the other winding her way through high school. And when I say all grown, I mean they aren't yet adults, but way past the point when I could pick them up, put 'em on my shoulders, give them piggy backs up the stairs, or even get an old fashioned hug. We are rolling with it of course, the endless financial aid forms, trips to the mall to just hang out, BDubs binging, snowboarding, tattoo parlors, garage door opening at 2am, and so on. Eh, like I said, we are rolling with it. Life goes on, ya know? But as I look back, I realize that I missed out on cherishing something that at the time I had no idea was happening. The last kiss goodnight.

If you knew that tomorrow, your young child was finally at that age where giving mom and dad a kiss on the lips was just, ewww, wouldn't you hug a little longer? Give them that extra pat on the head with a peck on the forehead? Made sure they heard you when you told them how much you loved them? But we never know when those moments are upon us. One minute, they are holding your hand, and in the next, they are taking the car keys. But if only I could have like 5 minutes with the 7 year old version of them one more time.

So many little things you take for granted when they are babes. The last bath you give them before they insisted that you weren't allowed to see them naked anymore. The last time you fed them before they yanked that fork out of your hand. The last time you tied their shoes. Or got them dressed. The last time you got to say how their hair would be cut, but still felt a twinge of re-assurance when they had you tell the barber. The last time you helped them with their homework, before you realized they know more than you. Ok, that one comes later, but another moment, none-the-less, when your child has taken another step towards their own independence. And at the time you had no idea.

Some of these moments, I admit, are of the Phew! variety. Was happy not giving them baths anymore, equally so when they could eat on their own. Relieved when I didn't have to drive BYT#1 to and fro when he got his drivers license. Still doing the rounds with BYT#2, but she turns 16 in a couple of months. Not sure that one is going to be a Phew! or a Yikes!, but we will roll with it. But the last kiss goodnight? God I wish I could have that one back.

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.