Your Next Governor

I'm about to tell you something no one knows. Not my parents, not my girlfriend, and not my therapist. I've never voted. I always mean to vote, but then something else comes up. In 2000, I got all the way to the polling station, but then I remembered that I was supposed to take the cat to the vet and in the end, what matters more? The future of our nation or the welfare of my cat?

But it has recently come to my attention that our failure to vote has made young people the target of intense discrimination. It all started when I kept hearing Rod Blagojevich described as the "fresh" and "young" gubernatorial candidate. As a rule, I tend to favor young and fresh over old and stale, so I went ahead and visited Rod's web site. The man is FORTY-SEVEN years old. If Balgojevich lived in Rwanda, he would statistically be dead right now. Frankly, I'm amazed he can get around without a walker.

So then I got to wondering why we never have any actual fresh and young candidates, the kind of candidate who will champion the causes of Illinois' young people, which led me to an interesting government conspiracy. It turns out my little brother Hank can't be governor of Illinois. I don't mean that Hank is unlikely to be elected because he has a pathological fear of shaking hands and no real popular following. I mean that he cannot LEGALLY be our next governor, because to be governor of Illinois, you must be 25 years old, and Hank is only 22.

Can you imagine what would happen if there was a law precluding the governorship from Catholic people or old people or people who drive Land Rovers around Chicago even though there is no real Land to Rove? There would be riots in the street! So how come it's okay to exclude young adults from leadership positions in Illinois? Is there some part of the job that requires you to be middle aged? Are there important state functions that involve showing off your potbelly or summarizing the plot of your favorite episode of Frasier?

I'm not saying my little brother should be the governor. I'm just saying the people of Illinois should be able to choose their governor from a pool that includes every adult citizen of the state. To do otherwise is to imply that the citizens of Illinois aren't smart enough to determine who possesses the maturity to represent them in Springfield. It's idiotic - and offensive.

Lucky for you, I just turned 25. And because I dream of an Illinois where some pimply 18-year-old can move directly from his parents' house to the governor's mansion, I want to take this opportunity to announce my candidacy. If you elect me Illinois' next governor, I'll immediately introduce legislation to end our state's ageist and bigoted candidate requirements. But I won't stop there. As your governor, I'll tackle all the important issues.

My opponents, Jim Ryan and Rod Blagojevich, keep droning on and on about the issues that appeal to voters: the economy, prescription drugs for old people, and public schools. But I don't want to appeal to voters, which is good, because I don't care about any of those issues.

I want to appeal to all you nonvoters out there. I want to give you a candidate worth voting for. Sure, Blagojevich promises to bring 250,000 new jobs to the state of Illinois. But can he promise to stage a massive concert on the steps of our state Capitol at which Wilco opens up for Radiohead?

I've been listening to Illinois' young people. They're asking important questions, and I've got honest answers.

Can we change the state motto from "State sovereignty, national union," to "Who's your Daddy now, Wisconsin?" We sure can!

Is there any way we can reduce the number of Republicans in the state by selling the bottom half of Illinois to Kentucky? I don't know, but I'll look into it!

If you become governor, will you pass an executive order making it illegal for residents of Illinois to refer to themselves as "young" past their fortieth birthdays? I sure will.

My name is John Green. I want to be your next governor, and I need your vote on November 5th, particularly since I won't be casting one myself.