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.

That doesn't apply to me.

Rules. Where would we be without them? A society without them would be sheer chaos. Imagine the middle ages with automatic weapons. If you didn't have to follow any rules, what would you do different? Me? It would mean driving down the highway doing 120mph naked while chugging a bottle Petron. (Thanks for that burning image a-hole!) But that's just me. The Guitarman readily admits that he is not immune from slightly bending some rules to tilt in his favor. Like driving 55 on the tollway. Have you ever passed a car that was? I think that guy is in more danger than the guy in the left lane doing 80 with everyone else. And some rules were meant to be followed. Like wearing clothes in public. I am pretty sure that if this were not the case, I would not be living next Rosie O'Donnell. Some images were meant to remain unseen. But today I was irked from the get go.

Home Depot parking lot. Able bodied middle aged male takes his myriad of purchases, tosses them in his car, gives his cart the old "push" towards the general direction of the cart corral, 15 steps away, and leaves. Hard and fast rule? No, but if everyone did it, parking lots would become obstacle courses. I made sure he saw me taking the strenuous effort needed to push an empty shopping cart 40 or so feet.

Walgreens parking lot. Despite empty parking spots being a mere 10 steps away from the door, a woman decides that her quick trip into the store is more important than any one else's, so she leaves her car in the lane, blocking other drivers from getting to where they need to go. I am sure if a conversation had taken place it might have gone something like:

GM Um, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but that is not a parking space.
Clueless Driver Parking space? What is that?
GM You see all of those yellow lines everywhere? You are supposed to pull your car in between 2 of them.
Clueless Driver Ohhh! That's what those are for. I thought a solid yellow line meant I wasn't allowed to pass another vehicle.
GM So then you'll move you vehicle to an appropriate spot?
Clueless Driver But I am only going in for eggs, milk, cigarettes, nail polish remover, batteries and root beer. Oh, and I might peruse the bin of $5 DVD's. But I'll be right out.

But in reality in would have been more like:

GM Um, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but that is not a parking space.
Clueless Driver Mind your own f@*king business asshole before I call my boyfriend to kick your ass!

Some things are better left unsaid. But still, people throw a harmless McDonalds wrapper out of the window thinking that a. one little piece of garbage won't matter, b. my car is too precious to keep a piece of trash in it, c. I am way too lazy to actually find a garbage can, and d. isn't that what prisoners are for, to clean up our roads? Me? I tend to imagine what the world would look like if everyone did the same thing. That old commercial from the 70's comes to mind. You remember the one? With the Native American walking the land to see how man has disregarded it to the point that we are all living in filth? In the end, that single tear runs down his cheek. Ashamed to be living among those who have no respect for anything or anyone around them.

But that's our current society. We are too busy to take the time to follow the rules so that the next guy that comes along can have the same opportunity that we had. It's called common courtesy. I won't shit on you if you don't shit on me. Not too hard to comprehend, but I guess some people were raised to believe that the world revolves around them. Maybe we all need to sign a pledge when we turn 18. Something like, "I will leave this world better off than I found it." Can you imagine what kind of world we would live in if everyone lived by those few words? I know. I can't either.

Day 2 of my stay-cation.

So I've got the week off, and we aren't going anywhere. So in no particular order, I need to: finally finish the trim and cabinet sides in the kitchen, get the yard ready for winter, put up the Christmas lights, re-grout the tile in the shower, patch and paint the ceiling in the kitchen, cook dinner for 23 on Thanksgiving, invent the flying car that runs on water (I still can't believe we don't have these yet), climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, broker world peace, and finally figure out a way to keep the squirrels out of my bird feeder. So who has time for inane chatter? Me, I guess.

Mel Reynolds. Remember him? Convicted child pornographer, not to mention a little bank and wire fraud? He of the receiving end of Bill Clinton's amnesty for all farewell tour? Disgraced former US Rep? Am I ringing a bell yet? Well, you will be hearing his name again soon. I guess he want Triple J's congressional seat. Even though JJJ hasn't formally lost it yet. He is like a turkey vulture, circling up high, waiting for the right moment to descend upon the road kill. Hears a bet: he runs for it and wins with over 60% of the vote. That'll be a nice message to our kids. You can go to federal prison for having sex with a 16 year old and stealing money, and still come out smelling like a rose. Where else but Chicago.

And that means what? I had so much fun with license plates last week, I have to go there again. Seen this week on the roads: I LV MLNS. Either this guy has a serious cantaloupe fetish, or he is a horn-dog like the rest of us. CAR. Um, that would a fresh revelation, if you weren't driving a VAN. NUT JOB. You sure you want to be telling the world this little nugget? FZX ROX. He gets an A for creativity, but an F for reality. I took physics. It doesn't rock, it sucks. And everyone knows that Geology Rocks. Buh-doom-chsh. LYN DUH. Are you saying we are stupid for not knowing your name is Lynne? Or is that the worst abbreviation for Linda ever?

Soul-less monsters. What turns once promising humans into soul-less monsters who will do anything to save their own ass? A woman in, duh Chicago, kidnapped a baby from the sister of a friend to use the child to evoke sympathy from a judge to get a lower bond for her boyfriend. When the plan fell apart, she left the baby in an alley, with the temperature hovering at freezing. What the...? You actually were going to throw away the life of human being all so you could get a judge to make you pay less money to get your crack head boyfriend out of jail? Where the hell were your parents growing up? Did you listen? Or were you too busy gang-banging with your felonious friends to learn that a human life is something to be cherished? You know, you just can't teach stupid. Happy ending though, a massive search found the infant, and the mother and baby are doing fine.

Throw the Bum out. Which one? So many politicians getting bad press these days here in the disgraced Land of Lincoln, where do you start? Toss powerful Chicago Alderman Ed Burke's name in the ring. He wants us all to move along when talking about the obvious code of silence among Chicago cops. Remember Anthony Abbate? The 250 pound drunk gorilla that beat up the 100 pound female bartender a while back? A code of silence was recently proven in his civil case, awarding the woman a nice chunk of change for getting nearly killed by a lunatic on the city payroll. And Burke wants us to believe nothing funny was going on in the cover-up. Hmmm, maybe that code of silence goes all the way up the ladder. Maybe Burke's broom swept some dirt under the rug and he wants it to stay there. Naaaah, too far fetched.

Hostess. Can it really be true? No more Twinkies? Or Ho-ho's? Or Zingers? Well in case you weren't one of the thousands of Americans who flew to the grocery store to clean out the shelves of the now shuttered bakery giant, you are like me.

Devoid of one final cake and cream filled pleasure, sending you back to those magical days of your youth when sugar was the main ingredient in everything. Remember your school lunch? How many times did you pull off that cellophane wrapping and jam that little slice of heaven into your mouth in one bite? Open letter to the rest of the world: will someone please step in and resurrect this iconic American company? You don't have to make a profit. You don't have to turn the brand into a world beating bakery megolith. You just need to make me one more ho-ho. Or a zinger. I'm not picky.

Hit the reset button.

I'm baaack! Been a little stretch there, sometimes inspiration comes in bunches, sometimes not at all. And sometimes in a bottle of Patron. Brooding young teens not really brooding much these days. The squirrels are too busy stuffing their little furry bodies with every edible niblet in my backyard to bother with. And geez, I've actually kinda been sedate in the car lately. A good drive up to WI should do the trick. I guess that leaves me only one thing to grouse about. Illinois.

When something is so broke it is beyond fixing, what do you do? You throw it out. Can we do that? We are so messed up right now, priorities, debt, corruption, laws, I don't even know where to begin. But I think I have a solution. It's called the reset button. Wouldn't it be nice if we the people, could rise above our evil government overlords and have a special election where there would be one issue to vote on. Do you favor kicking out every single elected official, from the governor, to the congressmen and state senators, and especially the judges, and starting over from scratch? I mean, what could it harm?

Think about it for a second. No Michael Madigan for our politicians to cower to. No incompetent judges returned to the bench by ignorant voters who couldn't tell the difference between a judge on the bench and Judge Reinhold.

No Jesse Jackass Jr. or Derrick Smith getting re-elected despite the blatantly obvious corruption running through their veins like beer to Homer Simpson. No spineless career politicians in Springfield where every vote is made in their own self-serving interests. One vote to cast them all out and start over.

"Oh, but Mr. Guitarman sir, is it really that bad? Are they all, that bad?" Well you tell me. Second worst bond rating in the nation, recently downgraded and heading for another round. Unfunded pension liabilities that threaten not our children's retirement, but ours. Worst budget deficit in the nation somewhere in the neighborhood of $43 billion. Governor's (plural) in jail. A steady stream of corrupted officials with their hands so deep in the cookie jar their elbows get stuck. Judges getting re-elected that are so bad that the local bar associations rate them as "Not Recommended". An arcane concealed carry law making us as the laughing stock of the nation as we are the only one of 50 states where you can't protect yourself. Failing schools. Undermanned police in Chicago. Gang wars that take the life of innocent children, every single day.

I could keep typing until my fingers stiffen from arthritis. But what about a solution. What can we do? I asked the question on Facebook, and one friend suggested "educate the voters." Is that even possible in the current climate we face ourselves in? Let me dwell on one of my favorite rants, Triple J. You must know the story of his fall from grace. But in the last election, he won with 63% of the vote without even campaigning. And he had the backing of fellow politicians, namely one Ald. Carrie Austin, who are now upset, no furious, that he duped them. Well maybe if Ms. Austin was a little more worried about her constituents, and not protecting one of her own, if maybe she had seen what all of us had seen, that a lying, cheating, corrupt piece of crap like JJJ was faking all of this bi-polar BS and really hiding under a rock so he wouldn't have to deal with his day of reckoning, maybe things would be different. To educate voters, they need to hear from honest people they respect. When those same politicians don't respect them back, and feed them lies to sway their vote, then there is no hope for voter education.

Enter the reset button. Or in our case, a recall election. Recall them all. Every last ego driven alderman, senator, judge, mayor, board president and governor. Would we be kicking out a few good ones? Of course. But like the old saying goes, one bad apple can spoil the whole batch. But what if there is only one good apple in the whole bad batch? We have to start over. Of course it is a fantasy driven pipe dream, namely to seat myself as the supreme Ayatollah of Illinois. But think for one second about that. It would be epic, no? And quite honestly, I don't see how it would be possible for us to be in worse shape then we are now.

This is personal.

There are, at last count, millions of cars on the road. Billions? How the heck is someone supposed to stand out? Snazzy paint job? Check. Rear spoiler? Double check. Rims and tires that cost more than the rest of the car combined? Got it. I mean, I 've seen it all. Seconds after turning sixteen, I proudly showed my mom all of the spoilers and sun shades and louvers I was willing to spend my own money on to turn her boring red 1978 Toyota Celica into a lean, mean, driving machine. I think it went something like this:

Mom: What do you want to do to my car?
16 yr. old GM: You mean our car?
Mom: Did you pay for it?
16 yr. old GM: I was only 15 when you bought it. Now I have a job and want to make up for it.
Mom: Well I won't be seen driving around looking like that!
16 yr. old GM: Like what?
Mom: Like some 16 year old from the ghetto!
16 yr. old GM: Mom the cars in the ghetto don't look this good.

And on it went. Suffice it to say, the Celica remained boring, and mom didn't have to look like a jackass driving her own car. But there is one dubious bit of personalizing done out there that sometimes makes you laugh, sometimes makes you angry, and sometimes makes you say WTF? I am talking about vanity license plates.

I used to have one, actually. Back in my young and stupid and playing ultimate frisbee all the time days, I thought the name of our beloved team, the Flying Spuds, should be immortalized on my 1986 Chevy Camaro. But Flying Spuds exceeds the 7 letter limit in Illinois, so I settled on FL SPUD 1. I got it. My friends got it. But everyone else asked me if I was a potato farmer from Florida. That's when I realized that I looked dumb out there on the roads, as no one in their right mind would ever believe there were potato farms in Florida.

Today, in a social experiment, kind of, I wrote down every personalized plate I saw. So in no particular order, they were: GUAPO, MY BENZ 1, M OR W, ARISTOS, JSCNU, ECRA 1, M 16, PHILOS 4, KINOLA 6, ATS I, WTSOX, AVERY 9, SANDIAS, DNITA 67, IM MD 3, REAL LS 1, GRR ARGH (I shit you not), BKM 89, OSCAR 79, J STEW 2, SIGNSN 3, INTRNT, and MY UHOH 1. Now taken as a whole, most of these fall into the category of huh? Obviously they are personal to that person, but I haven't a clue. A few are clear cut, like M 16. He also had some sort of gun sticker, and he had veterans plates. So yea, don't mess with that guy. And the MY BENZ 1. On a Mercedes. Really? Your flippin' car that says "Mercedes" everywhere, and has the little unmistakable Mercedes logos all over it? Thanks for clearing that up. You spend an extra $100 a year to tell us what you already spent $75,000 on: that you're loaded. One guy is a Chicago White Sox fan (figure it out). And one woman is always pissed off. When I passed GRR ARGH, I looked at her and she did look pissed.

But a few plates beg a few questions. Like the lady hunched over the steering wheel like a 90 year granny in a spankin' new Camaro. Guess which one...her plate read, MY UHOH 1. UHOH as in "Watch out road, here I come in this rocket ship with wheels and I really suck at driving?" Or UHOH as in "I'll be paying this car off for a decade?" Or what about the INTRNT guy? Are you telling us that A. you invented the internet or B. you use the internet? If it's A, then you are more full of shit than Al Gore. If it's B, then congratu-freakin-lations. Welcome to the real world Neo.

I can't end without mentioning the 3 most memorable plates I have ever seen. The first was 1. That's it, just the number 1. It was an old Checker Limo, the second in a 2 car motorcade, and as I passed, I saw then Governor Jim Thompson. "Kewl," I thought. The other was one that pissed me off a little. It read, U ENVY ME. Umm, I do? And who the f$%k are you? I looked over as I passed, and she was a hot blond with a smug look on her little face, and I thought, "What an egotistical thing to do." Should I cut her off, run her into the ditch, so her car catches on fire, and as I run up to the window as she reaches out of the burning auto crying for help I can say, "Now who envies who bitch?" Well, I didn't. I should have, but didn't. Then a few weeks went by and I went to a friends barbecue and guess what car was sitting in the driveway? Well it wasn't my friends car, but his next door neighbors. I asked him about it and he responded that yea, she basically walked around like her shit didn't stink. Now her shit may or may not have stunk, but I'm sure glad I didn't run her off the road.

And the third? This is no joke. A neighbor, whose name was Jay, gave his wife a loaded Cadillac Escalade, or Chevy Urbantank, or something ridiculous like that, and had put on vanity plates. She was Jay's girl, and he wanted the world to know it. Nothing wrong with that. Except, in the confines of the 7 letter limit, JAYS GIRL missed by one. Personally, I would have gone with JAYS GRL. Everyone would get it. But he opted for this: JZ GIRL. Um, when I read it, I see something totally else entirely. Like a girl who is in love with, hmmm how to put this delicately? In love with a certain male fluid that spurts out of the, um, well you get it. Now driving down the road, everyone doesn't look at her plates and know to whom she belongs, they look at her and think she is a porn star. And I never had the guts to say a word to her.

Don't let me down.

Huh? What was this person thinking? Ok, so they weren't. It never ceases to amaze the Guitarman that the little things he takes for granted, like common sense, are lost on a good percentage of the general public. Like not smoking pot in my car in front of a cops house, or not writing a book on your sexual exploits while being a high school coach of a girls sports team. Or even re-electing a politician while half the federal government is investigating every aspect of his life. Today kiddies is a special addition of 5 on 5, dedicated to stupid.

Up in flames: Juggling can be fun to watch. Especially when the said items being juggled are flaming. Ooooh!! Aaahhh! But here is word of advise to all would be flaming jugglers out there: move the can of fuel away from you before you practice your craft. Seems that was lost on one Aaron Rossetti as he promptly lost his flaming bowling pin to the picnic table where his open can of camping fuel was sitting, which of course was right next his props, which of course also burst into flame and melted into the pavement. Try using chain saws next time buddy, and we won't feel sorry for you because you were momentarily afflicted with stupid disease. You'll be dead.

Fido vs. Goliath: Take a quick look a this picture and look away.

Ok, what was the picture of? If you said a Starbucks sign like me, then you were fooled as I was. Look again. Yes Andrea McCarthy-Grzybek decided it was a clever idea to name her doggie daycare business as a take-off of the worlds largest barista shop. Not only does "Starbarks" invoke the name of the coffee megalith, but her sign looks just like a Starbucks sign, complete with the little stars, and of course the green logo. And of course Starbucks is suing, and of course McCarthy-Grzybek can't figure out why. I know why. Stupid covertly crept it's ugly little head into her brain and demanded to be heard. You don't steal one of the most recognizable logos from a giant corporation and walk off, leash in hand, into the sunset.

I'm really a good guy: That's what Bryan Craig wants you to believe. That's what 99% of his friends would say about him, he says. Well I want talk with the other 1%. He is the guy who was a high school girls varsity basketball coach, and student counselor, who thought it was a smart idea to write and publish his own book on female sexuality called "It's Her Fault." Where he talks about targeting women for sex with low self esteem. And the differences in the vaginas of women from different races. He is suing for being fired from his job where he was around young women all day, for writing a book on how to get into their pants. Says his right to free speech is being violated. Hey dumb ass, nobody is stomping on your right to talk about what a callous womanizing loser you are. They are stomping on your right to use a high school full of young woman as your personal grazing field.

Up in smoke: Now we all know being 18 goes hand in hand with being stupid. Sometimes. We often write off our own less than Freudian moments of clarity when we were teens as being young and stupid. But here's simple little hint for all the would be pot smokers out there: don't sit in your car in front of a cops house getting high. Just ask Maximilian G. Salling. Hint number one, pot is still illegal almost everywhere. Hint number two, cops generally will bust you for breaking the law. It's what they do.

Triple J: Now my regular reader of this blog can attest to the fact that yes, I do like to pick on certain people, and in this case, the less than honorable Jesse Jackson Jr. But putting him in the "stupid" column today is not what I am doing here. Yes, using campaign money to fly your concubine to Chicago is less than smart. Yes, thinking that no one would notice that you were trying to buy your way into the US senate ranks up there in the halls of stupidity. But not today. Today I am calling out people of Illinois's 2nd Congressional District. All of you. It seems that polls indicate a clear path to re-election for Triple J despite the above stated poor decisions. Not to mention being locked in your house and the Mayo Clinic with bi-polar depression for the last six months. He hasn't campaigned. He hasn't addressed the media once. He denies the sworn testimony of his fund-raiser that he offered Blago over a million bucks for the US senate seat. He cheated on his wife. And he used campaign funds on less than campaign matters. So, all of you in the Illinois's 2nd Congressional District, I have just one question for you. Are you stupid or what?

I have said it before, I will say it again, and I will put it on my tombstone. If you give people a chance to do something stupid, they will never let you down.

What's in a number anyway?

Numbers are fun. Age, after all, is just a number. Will it mean anything on The Guitarman's next birthday that the prefix of that number will jump from a 4 to a 5? Maybe only in my head. The big number that is being celebrated today in the paper is 7.8. That is the percentage of Americans still out of work. Not including of course those that have given up looking, tradesmen working 20 hour weeks instead of 40, stay at home moms who only do so because the food stamps they get allow them to eat for free on the governments dime, and those once proud salaried workers now making $10 an hour at Starbucks or Menards. But when you look at the number and not the facts, it's easier to swallow. But the number that has me all gaga today is 10,000.

That is supposedly the number of readers that decided they could waste 5 minutes of their day reading the rambling, narcissistic grandstanding that is passed off as prose on this page. Can I get a woot-woot? Clearly tooting my own horn. But what, if anything, does it really mean? Are they actually reading? Or just stumbling along in search engines for something else altogether?

Ever go looking for something on the internet? Of course you have. But usually you get 10 items that have nothing to do with what you are looking for for every one that is. Example? A piece I wrote a year and a half ago still gets regular hits. 'Wow, I must really have struck a chord that day,' I used to think. Until I looked closer and saw that all of the traffic came from google images. It was about life as a kid growing up in our neighborhood, and watching Saturday morning cartoons. And so I included a little picture of one of my favorite old cartoons, the Road Runner. So when it seemed that someone in Australia had an interest in the childhood of an average American suburbanite, it was actually some kid looking for an image of Wile E. Coyote.

The one article that has gotten the most hits of any though, was one about a study that suggested that the government should tackle the country's obesity problem by regulating sugar. Flashing back to my childhood was a bugs bunny cartoon where Bugs Bunny would always ask Pete Puma, "One lump or two?" in reference to the amount of sugar in his tea. And Pete would respond in that twangy southern drawl, "Oh three of four..." So of course I included a photo of Pete, and of course there are more people looking for images of old cartoons than there are curious readers who want the demented opinion of an obscure blogger from Illinois.

So like I said, a number is is just a number. You can skew it every which way but loose, look at it from different angles, and come up with any number of conclusions. So when the number of people completely looking for something else readers in my little corner of heaven topped the big 10,000 mark, I was momentarily proud of actually accomplishing something. Until the moment had passed, and I looked behind the number, and realized it was probably closer to old Pete's proclamation. So if someone ever asks me how many readers I have had, I will respond with the same twangy southern drawl, "Oh, three or four."

An Oscar it is not.

In the world of movie making, most of us choose to only watch the cream of the crop. Those films that make it to the cinemas across the nation, where we drop some heavy coin to get in, drink 2 gallons of sugary soda, and bury our heads in a $7 bucket of butter soaked popcorn. (Do you think the native Americans of yore could have envisioned the truckloads of popcorn that a single movie theater can crank out?) And those films are (usually) worthy of our hard earned money. Then there is the second tier of films, that abolish all hopes of giant screen greatness and go straight to DVD. You've seen them. Well, maybe not actually seen any of the films per se, but you've seen them. In the vast bins of Wal-Mart and Walgeens, and all of the other Wal -like stores out there. $5.99. $3.99. Get one free with the purchase of a carton of cigarettes. They are generally bad. Bad acting, bad script, bad effects. But if you think any film you have ever wasted money on was bad, be it a box office bomb, or a cellophane wrapped straight-to-DVD waste of space, then you ain't seen nuthin' yet if you haven't seen clips of the now famous "Anti-Islam" film that is sparking world unrest.

Now when you hear the word "unrest", you think of the struggles of the demoralized masses, rising up against oppression in their own countries. Plenty of that to go around. But we have Americans dying, being assassinated for just being American, all because of a movie some anarchistic dumb shit decided to release. And when I call it a movie, that is like calling a go-cart a luxury automobile. It's like calling moonshine a fine wine. It's like saying Keanu Reeves a good actor. You get my drift? The film is bad.

I decided this morning that it was time The Guitarman took a look at what all the ruckus was about. YouTube provides us with instant 24 hour access to anything some goof with a camera decides is web worthy. And the guy that made "Innocence of Muslims" is definitely the king of all goofs with a camera. The industry standard for bad acting has previously been bestowed upon those actors that let their anatomy do the talking. You know what I am saying. One does not watch a porn movie for the acting. But the monotonal hacks actors that appear in the Islam film are to acting what hungry lions are to eating. The special effects require us to rethink the word "special". The script must have been written on bar napkins. In a word, the entire film, or at least the few snippets I found on YouTube, are laughable. No, they are ridiculously insulting to anyone who has ever watched a movie.

But from the actors, to the director, to the make-up artists, and to the grips, none of it matters to the entire Muslim world. The only thing that matters to them is the message. Rising up across the globe, in a feel good million Muslim march, American flags are being burned, embassies are being over-run, American soldiers and diplomats are being murdered, all in the name of religion. You insulted our God, therefore we our within our rights to murder you. What kind of fucked up religion is that? Granted, the message that the film sends, that of a womanizing, blood lusting Mohammed rising to power to kill all infidels, ie. all people that don't worship him, is not the kind of thing the peace loving Muslims of the world want to hear. The idiot that made this film, excuse me, this piece of propoganda, must have known the outrage it would create. Outrage not only from the Al-Qaeda and Taliban fanatics out there, but from the rest of the Muslim world as well.

Listen, killing someone in the name of your God is downright barbaric. It's wrong. It's evil. It's freaking insane! But there are parts of the world that still seem to live in the biblical age. You know, where stoning and beheading are acceptable norms. Guys with flowing robes and ZZTop beards tending to herds of goats in the desert. Where no one, and I mean no one has a sense of humor. Was this film meant as a joke? To me, I was laughing. Not at Mohammed, but at the film itself. It is laughable in a sense that I could take an iPhone in my back yard and make something that would seem more plausible than what this goofball did.

Maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe we, have it all wrong. Maybe the swarming locust-like masses aren't out there getting their mob on in defense of their prophet. Maybe they are just really angry that they wasted money on a really bad movie. Without the popcorn. But angry they are, over something that someone half a world away decided to bestow upon society. I once had a neighbor from hell. Everything she did pissed me off. When she breathed, she was stealing my air. Then she moved half a world away. Well, at least half a state away, but I let her live her life, and I got to live mine, without interference from each other. Her dogs got to shit all over her new neighborhood and it didn't bother me in the least. Get what I am driving at?

Gotta quote one of my favorite lines from an actual movie, uttered by the infamous Sgt. Hulka. Lighten up Francis. Maybe that's the ticket. Send copies of Stripes to the American hating lunatics of the world in hopes that one day they may develop a sense of humor.

Throw 'em out with the bathwater.

30 years. What have you done for the last 30 years? How many different jobs did you have? How many different bands have you been in? How many offspring did you eject from your loins? 13, 9, and 2. I'm real sure about the 2. Less so about the 9. And the 13. But it was a lot. I've been busy, okay? Probably more than most of you with the band thing. And with only 2 kids? I know a lot of you are saying, PPfff! Only 2? But in fact the average number of children in the US in homes with children is 1.86. Even less so at .9 when you throw in the couples with no kids. So there is a slight percentage that I am over you in that one too. But where I am going with this? Its the jobs one. For the last 30 years I have seen my share of different employers, but there's at least one guy out there who has been at his helm of Illinois politics as the whole time.

Michel Madigan, Speaker of the House. There I said it. Phhlleeww! Sorry, just hacked something up. Way back when, just after dinosaurs roamed the earth, the thought of being in politics was to serve your civic duty, give up a small chunk of your career for the good of your nation, or your community, and when you served your time, you went back to your crops, or your store, or whatever you did back then. Career and politician are two words that should never go together. The only thing that drives these people are their own inflated egos. Well, that and their Mercedes', and Audi's, and so on.

The state is in massive debt, our credit rating was recently downgraded (and could be again), there is a strike coming in Chicago at CPS (yes a Chicago problem, but if the state didn't default on it's payments to Illinois schools, then teachers don't get laid off, programs don't get cancelled, and maybe there isn't a strike), it's well known that we are the most corrupt state in the nation, and only a fool doesn't believe that Madigan is buying his votes with appropriations and appointments and favors and fantasies and pots of gold and whatever else it takes to stay in office at all costs! His constituents are too unconcerned with their own well being, while his co-workers are afraid of ever voting against him for fear of their own political skin. Hell, even the Governor, the man that should be the most powerful man in the state, can't get anything done when Madigan wants his way. And they're in the same damn party!!

Okay, deep breath, one, two, three, that's it, breath again, Hulk impulse fading, fading, faaa...it's gone.

Seriously, it's high time we throw this bum out of office. He's had 30 years to right the ship, and baby we're the Titanic. There isn't a sports manager alive that would keep his job if his organization was in the dire straits that we Illinoisans are in. The Cubs flip 'em every two years regardless. Why can't we give someone else a chance? Someone that won't have his minions cowering at his feet. Maybe, just maybe, the grid-lock might ease if the movers and shakers down state could actually move and shake to their own beat. But Mike Madigan beats the drums, and the people keep dancing. It ain't gettin' any better my friends, in fact, it keeps getting worse. Vote the bum out. And every other ego driven career politician who doesn't have the integrity to try and make our great state of Illinois better, his own "career" be damned.

Fire Madigan. Please?