An outfit called Illinois Separation has been placing this question on the ballots of counties all over Central and Southern Illinois:

“Shall the Board of [YOUR COUNTY’S NAME HERE] correspond with the boards of other counties of Illinois outside of Cook about the possibility of separating from Cook County to form a new state, and to seek admission to the Union as such, subject to the approval of the people?”

So far, the question has passed in 26 counties, with seven more voting this November. Asked whether they want to kick Cook County out of Illinois, Downstaters invariably vote yes. Why? What have we done to them? 

We’ve ignored them, that’s what. When was the last time you spent a weekend in Southern Illinois? As a result, Chicago and Downstate are having a marital spat. It happens when a couple has been together for two centuries, and one partner starts taking the other for granted. Chicago and Downstate have been growing apart, and now Downstate wants some attention. The argument, I imagine, sounds like this.

“We’ve been together for 206 years, and you want to throw all that away now?”

“We never do anything together anymore. You’d rather go hunting and fishing and sailing with your buddies in Wisconsin and Michigan than spend any time at all with me.”

“They’ve got those beautiful lakes.”

“I’ve got lakes. Lake Shelbyville, Lake Springfield.”

“Those are dammed-up rivers.”

“See what I mean? Nothing I’ve got is good enough. We had a total eclipse in Carbondale in April. Did you come down to see it? No. Do you ever visit the Garden of the Gods? No. I’ve got hills. I’ve got mountains, but you can’t be bothered.”

“It’s an awfully long drive. Six hours across the prairie.”

“And what’s wrong with the prairie? We’re the Prairie State.”

“I thought we were the Land of Lincoln.”

“He was from Downstate, too. Have you ever been to Springfield?”

“Of course. On a…”

“On a school field trip. And I’m sure you haven’t been back since. It’s only the state capital, you know.”

“I would remind you that I pay all your bills. You get twice as much back in tax dollars as you put in. And I get half as much. I pay for your roads, your parks, your prisons, your universities. You have all kinds of nice things because we’re in this together.”

“That’s a reason you should want to split up. You’ll save a lot of money if you don’t have to keep me anymore. You can spend it all on yourself. You only ever think of yourself, anyway. Do you even think of yourself as an Illinoisan?”

“I’m a Chicagoan. I eat Italian beefs and kick ass.”

“See. If we do this, you can just be a Chicagoan. You won’t be in Illinois anymore. You can leave it to us real Illinoisans.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“I don’t think so. Our lives are moving in different directions. We want guns. You don’t. You want abortion on demand. We don’t. Yet we have to live with what you want because there are so many more of you than there are of us. Cook County has half the people in the state. You’re the reason Carbondale has become the abortion tourism destination for the entire Southern U.S. You think we like that? We voted for Darren Bailey, the pro-life candidate for governor.”

“Look, just give me one more chance…”

“OK I’ll give you a chance. Let’s see how much you know about me. I’ll ask you five questions about myself. If you get them right, maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“OK”

“What town is famous for its white squirrels?”

“It’s something with an O-l, right? Omni?”

“Close. Olney. Where is the birthplace of Raggedy Ann and Andy?”

“That I don’t know. I didn’t even know they were born in Illinois. Oak Park?”

“Oak Park isn’t Downstate. It’s Arcola. What’s Carl Sandburg’s hometown?”

“Isn’t he from Chicago? He wrote that poem about us.”

“No, he’s from Galesburg. What about Richard Pryor?”

“Peoria. I saw Jojo Dancer, Your Life is Calling.”

“I wanted you to get at least one right. Where did Kamala Harris live in Illinois?”

“Kamala Harris lived in Illinois?”

“Yes. In Champaign, when her parents taught at U of I. Finally, where is the world’s largest ketchup bottle?”

“Collinsville. I saw it on the way to St. Louis for a Cubs-Cardinals game.”

“Of course you did. That’s only two right out of six. That’s it. I’m voting yes this November.”

“Well, vote any way you want. Splitting up the state requires the approval of the legislature. Do you know where most legislators are from?”

“Cook County.”

“I guess we’re stuck with each other, then.”

“Ugh. Well, at least come visit Springfield some time.”

“I will — to make sure this bill doesn’t pass.”