We built this

The average Illinoisan's reaction upon learning of the Capitol Renovation project (a month before it ended)

So I work in government, doing government things. It's what I've always wanted to do, government/politics, and now I'm doing it. I promise, it's not usually the shit show you're seeing unfold right now in DC. Nor is it the slimey, greasy betrayal-murder-fest portrayed in House of Cards (an excellent show, despite that). While discussing said show a friend on Facebook, said something like 'dirty politics are the only kind ;)' (yet it was capped off with an actual winky face). I suppose it's something of a misnomer to call this person a friend, but this bothered me all the same. People who have a surface level knowledge of/interest in politics, particularly those who may or may not participate in government simulations here in our fine state, tend to relish 'dirty' politics in a way that is somewhat sickening. Sure, backhanded methods get things done some times, but government works best when people work together and actually play by the rules. The celebration in pop culture of political trickery and betrayal only makes it more alluring to the ambitious, and leaves less room for those doing good work. That, however, is not what I'm here to talk about. This post is regarding something more specific, and more timely

In my new job, I work here, the Illinois State Capitol:

It's a big, beautiful building of the Renaissance Revival style. It's not the prettiest building I've ever seen, but it is the prettiest in Illinois.

I've always, since I was young, had an affinity for public buildings. County courthouses, capitols, old post offices, and finally the massive, timeless, beautifully crafted federal buildings in DC have always captivated me. They have a grandness to them: a sovereign pride that I find riveting. So one of my state's most recent controversies was particularly troubling for me.

A couple years ago the western wing of the Capitol went under reconstruction, mainly to bring it up to fire code, but also to refurbish and replace many of the old materials throughout the wing. The Capitol is well over a century old and, as is the case with many public buildings, doesn't see the sort of regular maintenance you may see in the private sector. Not to say it was ever a hole, but it was due for some improvements. For well over 90% of the renovation things were quiet, with the only people unhappy about the whole project being legislative and executive staffers cast into a nearby state building with an asbestos issue for the duration of the rebuild.

However because of whatever combination of reasons: pension reform, an upcoming election, Bill Daley still pretending to be relevant; it came to WE THE PEOPLE's attention in late August. What specifically came to their attention were these:

The three sets of copper doors installed in the Capitol's west entrance rang up a bill of about $669,000. Outrage ensued. Angry letters, screaming editorials, and unlimited pontificating ensued, whipping the Illinois electorate into a froth. An angry, shouty froth. 'How can we spend so much money on doors and chandeliers when we're cutting our pensions to death' they asked; 'how can you close down an unemployment office and still pay for these doors?' they yelled; 'the economy is in ruin (not really, see Spain), how can we afford these' others complained; or even the classic 'you raised my taxes to build those?! (because you should only pay taxes for services you receive directly, of course).

So what's my problem with all this citizen outrage?

It's not that the funds for the renovation come from a special fund specifically for the Capitol, that has existed for years, and that can't be drawn away from for other ventures (nor can it draw from other funds), or that while $669,000 is a lot to a family of four it's next to nothing for a state of 14 million, or that it doesn't even begin to compare to the amount of money the pension issue entails (mega billions, yo. Warren Buffett couldn't pay down our pension debt), or most importantly that the plan had been approved by both sides, gone completely under the radar, and been in the works prior to the budgetary shit show that now engulfs the state. It's something a little more abstract.

Since the 80's or so Americans have come to the conclusion that government must have a strong 'return on investment' for them, and that if something they pay into doesn't financially profit them, then they shouldn't pay for it. It's the logical conclusion of the 'let's run government like a business' manure proffered by Post-Reagan Republicans.

Sure, government should be fiscally responsible, sure it should manage money responsibly, sure it should be efficient. That said, there's more to governing than turning a profit. The Capitol likely costs each Illinoisan less than $5 annually, and the return we get for that is astounding.

The Illinois Capitol is a cathedral of craftsmanship, awe inspiring, intricate, and beautiful, and when I was young it inspired me. Government should not be housed in cold, gray, featureless mausoleums, but instead in buildings that show what our collective action, as a county, as a state, as a country can build. Public buildings are the physical evidence, plain for all to see, of how much we can make when we all contribute, of what we as a society can build. 

But it's more than that, it's the idea that you, as an Illinoisan, can walk into this building for no reason other than to be there, and that you, in some small way, had a hand in building this, that you have partial ownership to this monument to our republic. When people enter a public building they shouldn't say 'We built this' in anger, their faces contorted in disgust. People should be able to say 'We built this' with pride, with the understanding that it is theirs as much as it is the legislators who reside in it. I recently saw a post on a news blog sum it up a bit more succinctly then I have:

"...attempting to aggrandize self-government is not an entirely contemptible gesture, and in this case it left the people with a museum of vanished craftmanship that dazzles by its sheer exuberance if not its taste. It is unique, priceless, irreplaceable. Almost everyone who sees it with unjaundiced eyes realizes that we could never do that today. Sadder still, we would never dare to try."

Our public works are what they are for a reason. They remind us of our capability when we work together, of the fundamental understanding that we as a society are more than the sum of our individual parts, and that we all do better individually when we do not function only as individuals.They are there to inspire others to the call of service, and to memorialize in history our great gamble to govern ourselves and one another. Are the doors, the chandeliers, and the stained glass that prompted so much ire here at a bad time? Sure. But a century from now they will inspire our children and our grand-children the same as other works inspired us, there's no way to put a price tag on that.

I Hate Myself for Loving You

It becomes relevant, eventually

I'm a political person, a very political person. So much so that I've chosen to do it for money for the rest of ever. So as you might expect, my politics drive a lot of my actions. After all, why the hell else would someone put themselves through the act of canvassing? You have to love the fight to do shit like that.

That said, my politics doesn't really drive my acts as a consumer. Last year when everybody was getting all pissed off (in either direction, really) about Chick-Fil-A, I kept on eating it. When Deepwater Horizon became the world's largest money geyser I kept going to BP stations, if that's what was close. Was it because I supported these companies in all their actions and positions? Nope. Why? Because Chick-Fil-A is goddamn good. No, I mean that's definitely part of it, but there's more to it. First of all, I mean, this. If a company's owner believes something fine, as long as they aren't legislating it I don't see why I should care. Second, and more importantly, I don't think most boycotts are effective today, given the way companies do business and the way executives get paid. Consider that CEOs today now make two hundred seventy-three times the average workers salary, obviously taking care of the company every man is not at the top of the priority list. If a CEO, like say Chick-Fil-A's owner, has a deeply held, dyed-in-the-wool ignorant old codge sort of conviction, he's not giving it up. EVER. If his profits drop by 10% because of that conviction (which pretty much never happens anyway), he still isn't going to change his mind, and if they did he'd gladly just lay off some people instead of actually changing his position. So when you boycott most places, especially places that are franchised and individually owned (like gas stations) you aren't punishing this guy, you're more likely punishing him:

Look in his eyes, the pain is all in the eyes.

This position of mine has made a lot of people, typically on my side of the aisle, very angry.

Whateva.

That said, recently, I've run into one that I do feel pretty shitty about, and can't stop myself from indulging in. Oberweis Dairy. Oberweis is, predictably, owned by Jim Oberweis, who in addition to being a business owner is a professional asshole and a State Senator in my very own Great State of Illinois. First of all, Jim Oberweis has made it quite clear, he wants to be everything but a dairy owner. He's run for office SIX times! Five of those runs ended in terrible failure, as he slowly lowered his sights from United State Senator, to Governor, to House Rep, to finally a lowly State Senate seat (yet somehow people still bought that this time he really really had always wanted to be state senator). The man wants a constitutional amendment defining marriage in a blue state, he's almost comically anti-immigrant (for God's sake he's flying in his helicopter while bitching about impoverished minorities [perfectly good time to mention that he uses immigrant labor in his business]), supports right to work laws, and school vouchers that defund already cripplingly underfunded public schools. He's probably the most white-hot conservative individual in the Illinois Senate. But it's more personal than that. My brother ran his general election opponent's campaign. It was a race that couldn't be won, and to be fair, despite all the circumstances, the campaign outperformed the district's conservative lean. Still, he had to deal with Oberweis personally, fighting tooth and nail to get the district as far from him as possible.

I was warned about his products. About the ice cream, about the milkshakes, about the blessed chocolate milk. I was warned that if I had them, there'd be no going back. Again, I'm not one for boycotts, but I can get all of those things elsewhere, and I really didn't want to line his pockets. But I tried them anyway, and, well.

It's good, wayyyyyyy too good. I wasn't even entirely sure milk could taste that good. It's also actually available here in town, which means I have a quandary. Except to say it's a quandary is not quite correct, given that I've pretty much resigned myself to buying their shit now. I'm a passionate individual, and I most certainly have a side, but goddamn do I love good food. Do my dollars from the occasional gallon of milk (or the slightly more occasional half-gallon of chocolate milk [praise be its name]) make a big difference to Jim Oberweis or his future ambitions? No. Do I still feel like a bit of a tool for it? Yeah, totally. But it wasn't even remotely enough to stop me from ending up like this.

It's actually taunting me. Smug bastard.

And now a song from an artist, for which the post was named, that there is absolutely no shame in enjoying. Joan Jett: