Electing the American Dream

According to Robert Gibbs and my wife, there is no pleasing me. I don't have a membership card to the "professional left" and I doubt that there are secret handshakes among "the vast right wing conspiracy".We are just sitting in front of our television sets mumbling and shaking our fists.

I used to believe that all Americans had the same end result in mind and our differences were in the divergent paths we believed that we had to take to get there. My faith has been shaken by all the 'politics-as-entertainment' shouters though.

So two odd months before Illinois goes to the polls to elect a governor and a senator I decided to take a step back and a deep breath and a good look at what is going on around me.

The main combatants for our senate and governor seats, Giannoulias, Kirk and Brady seem to be cookie cutter candidates. They all have nice haircuts and suits. A suit doesn't hang as well on Pat Quinn and he is losing his hair. He is going for the rumpled, professor look. They are all white, all professional public servants and all pursuing the lowest common denominator on the road to elected office. They grasp our hands and kiss our babies and view us as poll numbers.

Let's take them out of my house and for a little ride and try and point out the signposts on our road to the American Dream.

There is a payday loan store on the street that is being repaved under the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act. They say that, "sure the money is expensive, but there is no credit check." There used to be usury laws that the fellows at Household Finance used to complain about. Now the guys that used to sell you juice and break your thumbs have storefronts and the law on their side.

On the corner is a thriving enterprise that will buy your gold. I didn't know that poor folks had so much gold that they wanted to sell. Apparently there is enough to justify a thriving storefront. These stores to have been popping up all through the city. Do they accept wedding rings and teeth? Where does it come from? I just know that there is pain and illegality involved.

There is a Shell Station that doesn't seem to sell a lot of gas. Every morning there are hundreds of guys there waiting for pick-up trucks to arrive. They go off to work at construction sites or help you to move your stuff. They are mostly brown-skinned and lots are probably illegal. They are willing to do anything to survive. The ones with the white skin are Polish. English is the third language spoken. Somehow they barter and make their contracts.

There are no sick days. The police never seem to come around. The Dunkin' Donuts sells them cheap coffee and the pizza joint has a hand lettered "no-loitering" sign.

Further along there is a 'paleteria' where proud men without any other solutions are entrusted with a cart and a bell and a case of ice cream bars to sell in the park. Other folks sell hot ears of corn on the cob slathered with mayonnaise. The mayor views these carts as a health hazard and they are harassed. A health code violation runs $250.

The old Florsheim shoe factory has been turned into condos for the people who work shuffling papers downtown.

The hot dog stands sell burritos now. There are lots of 'for rent' signs on small storefronts.

A nicer looking house is shuttered in plywood.

Closer in, guys are selling cold bottles of water for $1 at almost every stoplight. Business is brisk on hot days. In the fall and winter they will sell bags of M&Ms for their "school".

There are those with no pretense. One fellow stands with a Styrofoam cup and a spoon. He is pretending to eat. He has the "hungry, homeless" cardboard sign around his neck. Sometimes he drops to his knees between lanes of traffic and pleads. I have been seeing him for several years.

The same folks have been working the expressway ramps for a couple of years too. They shake their cups and tap your windows. There is a couple that appears as if they had recently been well to do. There is a fellow with one leg that hobbles on a crutch. They sleep on the concrete frames under the expressway. They have been there in all kinds of weather, for years.

I shunt them from my vision. They are part of the landscape.

And I know the candidates in the nice suits who don't see me, do not see them.

But this is not anyone's vision of America.

Mr. Candidate, do something to get us back on our path.

Then I'll be satisfied.