RevSpork

It took him long enough

At the time, I was both horrified and fascinated: one night in the autumn of 2003, the Chicago Cubs pulled off the most beautiful work of performance art in sports history, falling apart with five outs left in the game to deny themselves a chance to win their first World Series in 95 years. And this living, breathing, ivy-lined canvas was triggered by a foul ball hit towards the stands.

Today, as the World Series drought for the Cubs reaches the century mark, after four and a half years of continued Chicago Cubs fans' frustration, former Cubs left fielder Moises Alou confesses: he probably would not have caught the foul ball that fan Steve Bartman batted out of his reach. Really? I suspected that all along, and it's about time he admitted it.

The dying alcoholic on the #22 bus

Two Sunday mornings ago, I stepped onto the #22 Clark bus. It was about 6:30, a hint of daylight in the sky. There he was, sitting where I've always seen him sit, one aisle back from the handicapped seats on the driver's side.

Drunks have ridden Chicago's mass transit system since the very beginning; I wouldn't be surprised if the very first rider was blasted. Drunks and the Chicago Transit Authority go together like rum and coke. But the gentleman I walked past for the third Sunday morning in five weeks was the saddest-looking drunk I've ever seen.

First-world city, third-world mass transit

The Chicago Transit Authority is in yet another budget crisis. This year the nightmare scenario includes eliminating two rail lines and over sixty bus lines, as well as jacking up fares up to $3.25. All this, of course, is just the latest in a steady stream of bad news for the CTA and its riders this year.

We've endured construction delays, a mass shooting on a South Side bus, and so many slow spots on major train lines that it will take years and billions of dollars to repair them all. It's enough to want me to take a cab, except the cab companies are lobbying to hike their fares, too.

Mass transit is the lifeline of a large city; it's one system you don't want to screw around with. It alleviates traffic congestion, helps boost tourism revenue, and, of course, helps zillions of schlubs like me get to and from work. Cities like Portland OR, Toronto, and Washington DC all boast mass transit systems that are better-funded and better-run than Chicago's. Hell, even Los Angeles, known for its car culture more than any other American city, is expanding its mass transit system. Why does the CTA have to crawl to Springfield every year, begging for money? It's idiotic.

It's yet another reason to just give up, hightail it to the suburbs, and just buy a car and get it over with.

Another day, another mayoral election

Let's face it: Chicago is corrupt and rotten. Let's also get this out into the open: Chicagoans like it that way. Most Chicagoans have either been cowed into believing that Dickhead Daley is the only man who can run the city, or who have accepted the belief that a kleptocracy is the only way to run Chicago. Any scandal that erupts in this town is immediately dismissed (and defended) as being "the Chicago way of doing things."

Chicago is one of those cities who embrace negativity with the same enthusiasm other, more mentally balanced humans embrace positivity. Take sports teams. The Chicago Cubs have attained practically a legendary status because they *don't* win. When the team lost 95 games last year, many fans were disappointed that they would strive for such mediocrity. The real Chicago Cubs would have lost at least a hundred games. At the same time, it boggles my mind how the Chicago Bulls' mind-blowing NBA dynasty of the 1990s has become more a footnote in Chicago sports history rather than a major point of civic pride. It's as if the championship seasons have been embraced by everyone in America except Chicago. Let's face it: Chicago prefers losers to winners when it comes to sports and politics.

For the last few days, my apartment has been barraged with a combination of phone calls and junk mail, telling me to reelect Dickhead Daley. No, no, a million times no. I'm not sure who I'm voting for, but not for the most corrupt, disgusting ball of phlegm to run Chicago since his old man dropped dead. I may vote for another candidate, or I might write-in my wife, who is completely wonderful and healthier for the city than the Dickhead. But I'm never voting for that scumbag or his aldermen sycophants. And if you live in Chicago, I'd recommend you do the same. It's about time we had some winners running the city.

Can it get any colder?

Of course it can. And it will. On Super Bowl Sunday, when I'll be hosting a fun little party, the high temperature is expected to be eight degrees. Depending on what web site you look at, the low temp will be anywhere from two degrees above to eight degrees below.

I don't know why I'm complaining. Chicago has been downright balmy most of the winter. And I'm sure that my wife's relatives in Milwaukee will have it worse. And Duluth? They're screwed.

I just hope the weather doesn't prevent our guests from ditching. There will be, after all, hot dogs *and* chips. Who can miss out on that?

From Bedford Falls to Potterville

In a stunning victory for gentrification freaks, the Supreme Court greatly expanded the power of eminent domain, ruling that cities can seize your property and tear down your home to make way for private development.  The original concept of eminent domain (which has, admittedly, been abused for centuries) was to build public projects, such as roads or schools, or to reduce blight.  Now a developer can pick any property they want, make a deal with the city, and blammo!  Here's a check, bobo, now get out of our way.  And of course, given the obnoxiously skyrocketing price of real estate nowadays, you might not even be able to buy another house with the check the city gives you.  Ha ha!  Now quit snivelling and make way for people with *real* money.

Hark!  What was that noise?  It sounded remarkably like Mayor Daley having an intense orgasm!  Thanks to this ruling, the mayor can convert Chicago into Naperville in a matter of years. 

So if your town decides to take out your city block and put up a shopping mall, you're basically fucked.  Do keep in mind: the Second Amendment still exists.

Disorder in the court!

We have 72 more hours until Moving Day, the Girlfriend is a tight ball of stress, and I'm washing our blankies.  And I've been summoned to jury duty.

On the move again

The Girlfriend and I are looking to move again.  The rent we pay at our current domicile is bad enough, but we got killed by the heating bills this winter, and we would rather not sell our blood plasma again next winter to keep warm.  We need something cheaper so we can do radical things like pay down our debts and (Dare we dream?  Dare!  Dare!) save money for a house or condo or tropical island or whatever the hell we want to live in.  Of course, this means we have to [argh] look for another apartment.

Why do I do this to myself every year?

In less than ten hours, Chicago Cubs tickets go on sale.  Why don't I just buy tickets to a minor league game? It's so much cheaper, and it's pretty much the same game.  I'm no baseball fan; players don't mean much to me. 

But it's not the Cubs, it's not the city, it's not the game: it's Wrigley Field itself.  I've never watched a sports game in a prettier stadium.  When I'm sitting in my seat, eating a hot dog and sipping a soda, I find myself more a part of Chicago than I am any other time.  For those few hours, I belong here.  I cheer on the Cubbies because for those few hours, I'm a true fan.  I would cheer the team on if they were about to lose their 140th game of the season.  The team, the crowd, and I are one, our emotions plugged in to the throw, the hit, the run, the catch.  Outside of Wrigley, the Cubs are just another sports team, Chicago just another overly loud, obnoxious city. 

So tomorrow morning I'll log on, Visa on my desk, reading a book while waiting for my chance to buy tickets.  It will be boring, and frustrating as hell, but I know the future dividends will be worth it.

Oh, the weather outside SUCKS!

I arrived in Chicago in mid-2001, a few months after the city got socked by a nasty, snowy winter.  What followed were three straight mild winters.  For example, the winter of 2001-02 didn't see a Chicago snowstorm until mid-January.  Last winter featured a few small snowstorms and a couple nasty cold snaps, but nothing major.  This year was destined to be different, and your Reverend knew it, predicting a nasty winter as early as August.  Sure, we didn't get a major snowstorm right after Election Day as I predicted, but then Chicago was so depressed over the election that we wouldn't have noticed an alien invasion, let alone a blizzard, so it may very well have occurred right under our noses. 

Let me repeat this: I *told* you folks we were going to get socked with an ugly winter.  I warned you.  You could be in Hawaii right now with the intelligent people, but NOOOOO!  All those excuses about jobs, kids, house repair et al, seem mighty flimsy now that you're up to your armpits in snowdrifts.  I think Chicago owes me an apology for ignoring my warnings.