and I were not yet parents

Chicago may possess all the big-city sophistication of L.A. or New York, butgeographically and culturally, the southern end of Illinois is closer to Little Rock orLouisville, and large swaths of the state are considered, in modern political parlance, adeep shade of red. 　　I first traveled through southern Illinois in 1997. It was the summer after my first termin the Illinois legislature, and Michelle and I were not yet parents. With sessionadjourned, no law school classes to teach, and Michelle busy with work of her own, Iconvinced my legislative aide, Dan Shomon, to toss a map and some golf clubs in thecar and tool around the state for a week. Dan had been both a UPI reporter and a fieldcoordinator for several downstate campaigns, so he knew the territory pretty well. Butas the date of our departure approached, it became apparent that he wasn’t quite surehow I would be received in the counties we were planning to visit. Four times hereminded me how to pack—just khakis and polo shirts, he said; no fancy linen trousersor silk shirts. I assured him that I didn’t own any linens or silks. On the drive down, westopped at a TGI Friday’s and I ordered a cheeseburger. When the waitress brought thefood I asked her if she had any Dijon mustard. Dan shook his head. 　　“He doesn’t want Dijon,” he insisted, waving the waitress off. “Here”—he shoved ayellow bottle of French’s mustard in my direction—“here’s some mustard right here.” 　　The waitress looked confused. “We got Dijon if you want it,” she said to me. 　　I smiled. “That would be great, thanks.” As the waitress walked away, I leaned over toDan and whispered that I didn’t think there were any photographers around. 　　And so we traveled, stopping once a day to play a round of golf in the sweltering heat,driving past miles of cornfields and thick forests of ash trees and oak trees andshimmering lakes lined with stumps and reeds, through big towns like Carbondale andMount Vernon, replete with strip malls and Wal-Marts, and tiny towns like Sparta andPinckneyville, many of them with brick courthouses at the center of town, their mainstreets barely hanging on with every other store closed, the occasional roadside vendorsselling fresh peaches or corn, or in the case of one couple I saw, “Good Deals on Gunsand Swords.” 　　We stopped in a coffee shop to eat pie and swap jokes with the mayor of Chester.