A big, hearty congratulations to all the winners and losers of the latest mayoral and aldermanic elections. We know, though, that the real winners are the ones wearing designer fashions on the red carpets of DeKalb.

Just kidding & the only red carpets in DeKalb are the ones featuring Kool-Aid spills. The problem, though, is that I write my column well before election results come in, handcuffing me with a lack of knowledge. We do know, in any case, that his/her/its winning campaign was run with conviction, allowing everyone to realize exactly who should receive the extra flattery in the coming months.

And while this year’s election buzzwords were “landlord/tenant” and “economic development,” there are a few issues voiced by the voiceless that must be yet heard.

While money always comes up, many students care about an issue that burrows to the spine and lifeblood of DeKalb.

Yes, I’m talking about cell phones in video stores.

Like Oscar fashion critiques, “cool” folks have offered their opinions on the mobile communication device, badmouthing cell phones with a blind rage that can only come from not having a cell phone. My Wednesday contemporary who gets more space to write columns (and a cartoon, to boot) made reference to his hatred in his column, but the video store cells escaped his wrath.

Who wouldn’t want those compact connections to the rest of the world, forever eliminating those tangled cords? The cute little designs and colors push it over the edge, into the “must-have” chasm. Just get them out of my video stores.

People walking through video stores aren’t the happiest of entertainment connoisseurs. Slowly building prices and a preponderance of cruddy Keanu Reeves videos will do that to DeKalb residents. But the past few times I’ve walked through a local establishment that rhymes with “Rockbluster,” there has been THAT GUY or THAT GIRL. These rebel rousers walk the same aisles as me, but carry on conversations with unseen opinionators.

Please, future mayor and councilpeople, put a stop to these fiends.

Let’s forget that most cell phone conversations involve extremely IMPORTANT matters like how her shoelace came untied and how he got (bleepin’) drunk Saturday. Let’s forget that, most likely, these two masters of conversation will talk in a scant few minutes.

What bothers me, and really, all of the silent society, boils down to this: Stop the bloody play-by-play of available videos.

Maybe the person still at home must remain in bed, a victim of farfalonus of the blowhole. Maybe the person at home is caught underneath a gigantic 100-pound Lemonhead, and a movie would be a small consolation for the situation. But those are no excuses for going down every movie title, arguing about whether to rent “Crocodile Dundee” or “Crocodile Dundee 2” as the rest of the movie-renting public listens.

Possible solutions include public humiliation, a cellular muzzle or just some video vigilante justice. Karate kicks always work in the great direct-to-video market.

The answer, though, doesn’t lie with Richard Grieco. Only city government can carry out civilized justice in these dire times, no matter whose cell phone is decorated with “M-A-Y-O-R.”