Small town government - it can ruin your health

I am propped up in bed as I type this, wearing gym clothes and one of those Old Guy in Sarasota support stockings on my left leg, which is propped under a pillow. Sultry image, ain't it?

I have been ordered to keep my travels to a minimum, to walk about for 5 - 10 minutes or so every couple hours, but otherwise keep that leg up in bed or a recliner at least until early March. Maybe this is karmic payback for all those weekends wasted watching TV sports. How I got this way remains a medical mystery, which is to say I am like a patient on a mediocre-at-best episode of "House." But apparently my blood is as thick as Aunt Jemima syrup, and while not at all high in cholesterol or sugar, prone to causing sticky problems.

I'm not telling you anymore about my malady. HIPPA, you know.

What I will tell you is about this weird dream I had after filling out paperwork related to my condition for my job. My blood thinned, I shivered dreaming about my paperwork being challenged by someone from Carpentersville or some other local burg, someone I never met, who maybe didn't like some story I wrote or was just really into following the letter of the law, like Eric "Respect My Authority" Cartman on "South Park." So, because they convinced a panel I had violated the law, my claims were all being denied and I was being kicked off my insurance.

In the dream, on one page of documents I signed my name Mike Danahey and on another Michael Danahey. To my challenger and her attorney, standing there in the shadows, the rules clearly stated that the name had to be the same. Oh, and I forgot to number my pages. And I put them in a sealed envelope and used the wrong kind of clip to hold them all together.

"The law is the law," they said in unison. Which is so true, yet often so very confusing.

"Is this fair? I am not deceiving anyone. I go by Mike or Michael, depending on my mood. I think its sexy when someone calls me Michael. I didn't realize I had to number the pages, so can't I just go back and do that? I sealed the envelope so stuff wouldn't get lost. And all I had was a big green paper clip. Sorry. I've been in the hospital," dream version Mike pleaded.

"It doesn't matter," they said, in unison again, which creeped me out.

"Why are you doing this," I whined. "Why are you people like this? Why can't someone who wants to run for office just run for office as long as he or she doesn't have a c riminal record, lives in the area they want to represent, and is a registered voter? Why the dog and pony show of petitions?" I meant to say, why can't I just refill out my forms if I must or do what I have to do so they I don't wind up destitute, which I think I did eventually get out. But hey, it was a dream.

"We are just enforcing the law as it is written. Because we can," the duo sang this time.

So there I was in one of those embarrassing hospital gowns, chasing after the two as they headed down a hall, out to a driveway and into a Hummer carrying more than 3/4 ton of petition papers from all over the place. Apparently this is what this couple does for fun - and it was a DREAM so I can know this.

"Wait a minute!," I shouted. "You're using a vehicle, possibly for commercial purposes, that fully loaded weighs more than 4 tons that I bet you leave in a driveway overnight sometimes. You should be the ones in trouble. Ordinance breakers!"

"Nope. Towns with such laws, the laws may seem to apply to us, but they are really about those ugly panel trucks or for preventing someone from parking a semi in the driveway or a bus. It's not in the spirit of the law to prevent me from parking my petition-filled Hummer wherever I want to," said the lawyer, who was smoking a cigar made from ground up petition p apers.

"What the..." I said as a wind blew up my gown, and they drove off to bother another election.

I called a friend in Chicago who doesn't have a car to come help me. It would take him three hours to get to me by bus, then train, then bus or cab. That's a=2 0nightmare for another time.

This time, in the words of Tommy Lee Jones' character in "No Country for Old Men," then I woke up. And double checked my paperwork.