Sunday, January 16, 2005
Paul For Mayor
I live in a small community on the edge of Chicago. Our mayor died recently. I don't have the whole story, but apparently there's some fierce rhetorical throat slashing happening in the race to become the king of shit hill.
My introduction to this fiasco was a mailer I received late last week. Paul Collurafici sent me an exclamatory letter that unfolds into a billowing American flag with a yellow ribbon superimposed upon it. It's the most hideous display of patriotism I've yet encountered. I love how his letter on the flipside states that "Please know, this flag is a gift. This is in NO WAY meant to endorse me as a candidate." Of course not. I only accept bribery in cash.
I'll be the first to admit that I know fuck all about local politics. I'm here to go. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, I'm moving the fuck away from this place. I can't wait to go. Nonetheless, I'm morbidly curious about this groupthink perversion of good will. That might sound cynical, but when I think about schools, infrastructure, traffic, and good old-fashioned petty gossip, I want to puke all over my own shoes and neglect to clean it off. These people are at war with one another over the decision on whether to use yarn or rubber bands to suspend those tinfoil angel Christmas decorations from lampposts next year.
These people live here, and they are building their lives in this place. I do respect that. At the same time, the sick urination upon one another and mutual eyeball scratching that both sides gleefully participate in alleviates any guilt I have for my lack of sympathy. Just look at this. Here, allow me, as a resident, to invite you to our parochial snitching club:
I also recieved an invitation to attend a meet and greet next Thursday. I'm seriously considering attending. I'm assuming that both Paul and his competition will be present in one form or another, and I have some parking tickets I need cancelled.
When Paul's brother died, he took over operation of the family tattoo parlor. I'll probably vote for Paul on this merit alone.
P.S. I am writing this while very drunk. I like cheap gin. G'night. If you are in River Grove and found this, please don't kill me. (or ticket my car again fucker)
1:32 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
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