After Growing up in Illinois, How the Hell Did I Become a Democrat? (pt. 2)

Welcome to part two of my After Growing up in Illinois, How the Hell Did I Become a Democrat? post, which examines the Democrats who have controlled Illinois politics for the majority of my life.

Michael Madigan was born on April 19, 1942 and again when he assumed the speakership of the Illinois House of Representatives in 1983.

One of the most cunning politicians to ever draw breath, Madigan parlayed the representation of a small, non-descript district on the southwest side of Chicago into what is effectively the governorship of Illinois.

I can count the things I agreed with former governor Bruce Rauner about on one finger, and that was his observation that Michael J. Madigan controlled the state of Illinois. John Kass, a Chicago Tribune columnist, refers to Illinois as Madiganistan.

I can't disagree.

Imagine a man with the unquenchable thirst for power and control as our current president. Then sand away the need for attention and adulation. Then add a couple dozen layers of epidermis.

Next, fold in a big ol' dose of self-control. Cunning. And bump up that IQ a little bit. Okay—a lot.

Now you're looking at Michael Madigan.

Madigan is Francis Urquhart, the slithering, deadly predator around whom the brilliant BBC production House of Cards revolved. Like Urquhart, Madigan never gets too greedy. Or impatient. Keeps his profile on the down low. And is as unyielding as a diamond.

Madigan lapsing into Twitterrea is unimaginable.

Sadly, this political genius never sought to use his talents to enable Illinois and its citizens. He used it to enable Michael Madigan.

First and foremost of Madigan's greatest hits is his relationship with the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees union, or AFSCME. For decades, he has successfully lobbied the state legislature to relentlessly fatten their pensions without ever troubling himself over the means to pay for it.

Which is why Illinois teeters on the cusp between solvency and ruin today. Our 137.3 billion-dollar unfunded pension liability leads the nation. Madigan has single-handedly placed Illinois' financial future into an industrial-strength meat grinder in a manner Donald Trump only dreams of.

And thanks to a re-written state constitution, it is forbidden to alter those benefits in any way, precluding the obvious common sense solution of downsizing them to a point that doesn't suck the state and its citizen into a deep, dark hole beyond the reach of light and time.

To paraphrase John F. Kennedy, ask not what Michael Madigan can do for you, ask what you can do for Michael Madigan. 

But at least Mike still has a job, right?

Sadly, tossing a state's economic viability into the garbage for political gain isn't a crime. But consorting with a public utility and a telecommunications giant for political gain is. And thanks to the same federal probe that has Ed Burke morphing into Sweaty Eddie, Mike Madigan might be rethinking some career choices.

Friends claim they have repeatedly advised the seventy-eight year-old to step down. What have you got left to prove? Or gain? Why don't you relax and enjoy your money for whatever time is left to you?

Like all power-mad obsessives, Madigan can't see a life beyond the state capitol. “What would I even do?” he is reported to answer. Hopefully the federal government will help supply an answer.

Ever make license plates, Mike?

This is just a rudimentary outline of Madigan's career. Truth to tell, there exist enough skeletons to fill every closet in the Palace of Versailles.

Again, I wonder at his ability to convert a few thousand votes in his home district into the governorship of the State of Illinois. It's akin to electing a president based on the returns of a single county. Or even state.

It's ludicrous. And insidious.

But change is afoot. With the bright lights of that investigation upon him, Madigan's cronies are distancing themselves ASAP. Governor JB Pritzker and Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot, obviously relieved to have the weight of the bully's foot off their necks, are speaking out and calling for accountability.

Despite being a Democrat, I would be happy to see Madigan take his meals on a tray for the remainder of his natural life. It's the least he could do.

So. With so many bad examples of politicos so close to home, how the hell did I ever come to declare as a Democrat?

It took awhile. My father was a Republican, and in my first presidential election I voted like him. Gerald Ford was an affable guy who seemed capable of reuniting the county after the duress of the Nixon years.

Plus Jimmy Carter struck me as an overly cautious born-again religious zealot, which wasn't something I embraced in the sex, drugs and rock and roll-filled years of early-adulthood.

Carter was equally uninspiring in the next election, leading me to commit this crime against humanity: I voted for Ronald Reagan.

Within a year I was confessing to friends that I ought be in a maximum-security federal prison. It couldn't have been more obvious what a callow and ignorant human being I was not to have known the difference between Reagan and Carter.

It haunts me still.

But just like hangovers, frostbite and hemorrhoids, voting Republican has a lesson to teach us. And it was taught to me in indelible, bold-faced type: DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, VOTE REPUBLICAN AGAIN.

And with rare exceptions (all on a state or local level), I haven't.

While scores of Illinois and Chicago politicians qualify as shiftless, beady-eyed charlatans, their primary offenses were usually confined to accumulating power and any remuneration that happened to accompany it.

But on a national scale, Democrats can't hold a candle to the affrontery presented by a succession of Republican representatives, senators and presidents.

Gerrymandering? The endless manipulation and/or outright gutting of the voting rights act? Citizens United? Their class-leading corporate welfare? Their scared-shitless support of the NRA? Their sanctimonious embrace of the pro-life movement?

The artful button-pushing? The never-mind-the-democracy—what's good for us best practices? The willingness to sacrifice our air, our water and our land for the benefit of the business class? The willingness to exploit sexism and racial hatred in exchange for elected office? 

The belief that the pursuit and seizure of power justifies, well, anything?

At their worst, Democrats may be the ones fudging the estimated monthly payments on your new car sales contract. But Republicans are the ones tampering with your brakes.

 

Buy Now, Don't Win and Don't Get Paid

The biggest question Illinois Lottery players used to have was will I win? 

Today, it's will I be paid?

In the titanic budget standoff between business-friendly governor Bruce Rauner and Speaker of the House Michael Madigan, much has been sacrificed. 

While essential services have mostly remained intact, the cash drought has already eliminated child care services (since restored), senior programs and emergency housing while threatening much, much more.

Yet the struggle continues: whether to abolish unions and their collective bargaining power and rebuild Illinois on the backs of the poor, the elderly and children, or continue the extravagant spending necessary to fulfill promises made to public-sector unions while preserving the state's monopolistic Democratic infrastructure.

Oh, the tyranny of choice.

Not so difficult is recognizing the tawdry conduct of the state's lottery board.

Namely, that the board continues to solicit the purchase of lottery tickets, knowing no payment will be forthcoming until the state's budget impasse is settled. It's not too far removed from a drug dealer supplying his clients even though they can't pay, for fear they'll sober up and cease consuming his product.

Would it be unseemly to suggest that a ticket out of town might be the best lottery prize of all?

Even if a budget is decided on, it's tough to see settling with lottery winners ranking very high on the state's to-do list. Compared to bridge repair and medicaid payments and keeping gas in state trooper's cars, it just doesn't rate.

And maybe it shouldn't.

But don't take out full-page ads in major metropolitan newspapers asking the citizens of Illinois to continue buying out of some vague and misplaced notion of loyalty. Couldn't you at least buy us dinner before you, well...you know.

Assuming the budget stalemate continues into spring (which doesn't exactly require the imagination of Leonardo da Vinci or Walt Disney), it might be interesting if Illinoisans adopted a similar tact.

Go ahead and continue taxing us. When we make it. When we spend it. When we save it. While we're alive and when we die. Tax, tax, tax, all day long.

But come that special day in April, don't expect us to pay. Because we're broke, too.

Would an IOU suffice?

Some of us are confused about what it is we're paying for, which from here mostly appears as sustaining a power struggle between two very well-off and very powerful politicians with two distinctly unappealing agendas.

Illinois' birthday is December 3^rd. Anyone for a party?