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I’ve been trying to get a hold of a certain senator for about a month. I’ve left numerous messages, begging and pleading his assistant to get him on the phone for a ten minute interview.

No dice.

But let me tell you what will work: walking up to them in person and saying, “Hey senator, I left you all those messages. Do you have a minute?”

Of course, to pull off that little trick, you need determination, people skills, and a round trip Amtrak ticket to Springfield.

The other day, I was lucky enough to have all three.

My thesis, which examines the rights of Illinois servers, requires me to follow the latest Illinois legislation. This certain senator was the sponsor of a crucial bill, and so getting some new words from him on this topic was kind of important.

The waiting process is a funny thing. This certain senator’s office is set up in such a way that you can literally stand there and watch the senator talk to people. My senator was carrying on with a ridiculous conversation that included talk of someone who had gained weight, how someone else’s kids were a pain in the ass, and numerous droppings of the f-bomb.

After about 15 minutes of standing there about to lose my mind, the senator finally looked over and said, “Hey! You looking for me?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You’re a reporter, right?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Take a seat in my office. I’ll be right in there.”

Unreal, but that’s the way it goes sometimes. Springfield is a strange and beautiful place. I always have this horrible anticipation before I go down there and then, once I get there, I remember how fun and actually kind of cool the town is. Everyone is darn friendly, there are several really neat antique shops and book stores, and sometimes you make unexpected finds.

Like this blind man playing piano.

http://vimeo.com/31346950

I talked to my senator (no f-bombs in that conversation), met with the owner of a Springfield restaurant that treats its employees like human beings, and (on the last night) caught an impromptu Irish band in a coffee shop.

As they say, there’s more than corn in Indiana.

And there’s more to Springfield than Abraham Lincoln.

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