Daley, Ayers, and stinking of evil

Seven short years before Mayordaley II rushed to the defense of William Ayers, Ayers called Daley’s father “White and fleshy, [reeking] with the stench of evil” in his 2001 memoir, Fugitive Days.  No problem for the Man from City Hall, who just this week braved a firestorm of censure by calling an alderman “Foie Gras,” cracking wise in Bridgeport fashion.

Seven years.  The Man forgives this guy for saying his father was stinky with evil?  Well, apart from the immediate politics of the matter, Obama being linked more intimately than he has admitted with Ayers the terrorist-turned-UIC-prof-molder-of-minds-of-teachers, there’s the matter of bloodlines and social standing.

Chi Trib’s Ron Grossman traces the bloodline-social-standing issue as well as one could in a thousand words in today’s normally Left-Wing Perspective section, page eight in hardcopy delivered to hundreds of thousands of doorsteps this morning, including ours.

Seven years ago, Ayers’s book came out with the Richard J. Daley reference as white, fleshy, and evil, but the most Richard M. Daley can manage by way of censure — he who reportedly decked a fellow Bridgeportian shortly after his candidacy helped elect a black mayor by splitting the white vote in 1983, said Bridgeportian having chewed him out in a supermarket aisle, he, Daley responding promptly to the verbal attack — is that times were “difficult” and he, Daley, did not “condone what [Ayers] did 40 years ago.”

Forty, yes.

But Richard M.’s profile in courage in this matter is explained by Grossman.  It’s being to the manor born, it’s whom you know, it’s who your daddy was,  Excellent piece.

Same day, different paper, also read “Daley: Whatever It takes,” in Sun-Times, by the incomparable Fran Spielman and see The Man as first-class pragmatist, impatient with lawyers, he says, when he means the law.  Devastating account of the mayor whose genetic disposition towards peremptory behavior — see Royko’s Boss — is a big fat chicken (not stuffed duck) coming home to roost.

Senatorial discourtesy

Chi Trib on Saturday is its best day.  Today’s editorials, for instance, get right to the heart of their matters, offering data not blather and making a reader think.  The first is about the rude, crude dunces in our state senate arguing their need for a pay raise, or rather Sen. Rickey Hendon, who gets ugly talking to reporters.

The state house rejected the pay raise 94-8.  Hendon, chairman of the Senate Rules Committee, says they want one but won’t admit it, and in fact want to “pimp” the senators, i.e. get them to do the dirty work, presumably as a true-life pimp gets whores to do it.  On the other hand, a pimp is a sales rep, I thought, for women who need them to find higher-paying customers.  (Looking for help on this one.)

He also slammed his presumed colleague, Sen. Susan Garrett, who apparently is rich and has a big house.  “Have you seen her house? Go up there. Mind-boggling.”  Garrett, he said, is among “the filthy rich [who] are always the ones saying, hey, we don’t need the raise.” 

As opposed, for instance, to senate president Emil Jones, who earlier complained: “I need a pay raise! I need a pay raise!” and added jocularly to reporters this day, “I’ve got to get me some food stamps.”  The senate crown sits easily on that man’s head.

Garrett to reporters in self-defense:

This bill should not be reflective of what kind of money legislators have in the bank. . . . It should be reflective . . . of letting taxpayers know that we believe we deserve a raise or don’t deserve a raise. It should not be personal.

As for the pay-raise:

[S]ome of the legislators have missed the point, if they think they need the raise because, you know, they’re not making $150,000 a year. We’re here as public servants and we’re not here to assume we should be entitled to be receiving major increases every year when the rest of the state and other state employees are suffering.

The Trib concludes that the senate should reject the pay raise, adding that if the pay were performance-based, “they’d be sending the money back to the taxpayers.” 

Oddly, this conclusion is not posted.  Neither is the second editorial, “Rose Bowl secrets.”  So buy the paper.

Later: The conclusion has been posted, but the 2nd editorial remains a hard-copy-only treasure.

Scorned by Kerasotes

Drove over last night to the Kerasotes ShowPlace 14 – Galewood Crossings a few blocks north of North, just off Central, first right off the bridge, to catch “Redbelt” as advertised for a 7:20 showing. 

“Not selling tickets to ‘Redbelt,’” said the young lady.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because it’s not showing on the scornay.”

“The what?”

“The scornay.”

“The scornay?” 

Her friend, standing with cell phone just outside the ticket booth, finally intervened: “The screen, the screen.”

Which under normal circumstances would have prompted another question, Why aren’t you showing it on the screen when it’s scheduled to be shown and in fact is on the electronic list blinking right above us? 

But stunned by defeat, I returned to my vehicle and took myself back to Oak Park.

UPDATE: Renona (sp?) called from Kerasotes in Galewood, an hour and 20 minutes after I emailed them a link to this posting, and she couldn’t have been nicer. 

She didn’t know why “Redbelt” was a no-show, was very apologetic, and nicest of all, she’s givine me two free tickets, to be picked up at the gate by asking for the manager!

But at $4 a senior citizen ticket, am I going to expose myself visually as the on-line complainer?  Let me think about it.

UPDATE 2: The manager also called, also wants to be friends.  I called back, he wasn’t there.

EXPLANATION: “Scornay” is combination of her accent and my imperfect hearing, FYI.

The author speaks

An award winner at last night’s Society of Midland Authors dinner quoted St. Augustine, saying a book must “serve,” meaning serve the public interest, be useful.

Yes.  Every idle word is to be accounted for on the last day.  What ho, the frivolous! 

He’s Gary D. Schmidt, whose winner book, a piece of children’s fiction, is The Wednesday Wars (Clarion Books).  It’s “deep but upbeat,” per San Fran Chronicle, which also says that’s “no easy task” when writing for prepubescents.

The trick in reaching such an audience is to avoid both “Dr. Phil fare and plots driven by death, disease, divorce, drugs and the like.” 

Schmidt succeeds, but does the parents badly, delivering “caricatures.”  On the whole, however, says the reviewer,

this graceful novel is full of goodwill, yearning and heart, and serves as a growth chart for Holling, recording his increasing depth. “The Wednesday Wars” also gently reminds readers to take constant measure, as Shakespeare and Holling do, of what it means to be human.

That’s high praise, but last night, maybe sensing kindred spirits at the Inter-Continental Hotel dinner, he got a might preachy, speaking ominously of our troubled world and the current war, wondering where the protestors are.  The Viet Nam war, which coincides historically with his book, drew “a hundred thousand” protestors a day.  “I wonder where they are today,” he said. 

For one thing, the hundred thousand dropped to almost nothing once the draft was ended.  And there’s no draft now, so his wistful wondering is poorly aimed.  For another, he came across as a soft-core activist happy to plant a bit of self-accusation among writers. 

He teaches at a small Christian college, Calvin, in Michigan, and very well, I assume.  But he’s slightly affected by or infected with that yen to solve people’s problems for them and show them the way.  Or so he appeared.

Aldermen take it to the nation

The Rex Huppke treatment is the way to go in reporting aldermen turned foreign policy wonks:

The Chicago City Council, leaping broadly outside its normal purview, tried to stop the United States from invading Iraq 5 years ago. The nation’s third-largest city aimed a strongly worded anti-war resolution right at President Bush, and yet he went ahead and toppled Saddam Hussein anyway.

A shame, we may all observe.  They get no respect, even when, as Ald. Freddrenna Lyle (6th) announces in full cry: “We’re out there. We’re leading the charge.”

But Freddrenna, who will fix the potholes?

The discussion was top-level, as Huppke relates:

“I don’t think we should preclude an attack on Iran if it’s necessary,” Ald. Bernie Stone (50th) grumbled to John Mearsheimer, a University of Chicago political science professor.

“When would it be necessary?” asked Mearsheimer, an expert on international security policy.

“That I don’t know,” said Stone, an expert on zoning policy.

Out of the mouths of zoning experts.  Pssst: Mearsheimer doesn’t know either.

 

School with name — a good one

Here’s an Oak Park story with Washington Irving roots:

No Oak Park school is better named when it comes to kids’ reading than Washington Irving, on Cuyler in the village’s southeast corner. How can we beat The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, with the school teacher Ichabod Crane scared almost to death by a headless horseman.

Or Rip Van Winkle, asleep for 20 years and waking to find his children grown, his mean old wife dead, and the British no longer in charge in his upstate New York village?

There’s more more more here at the Wednesday Journal of Oak Park and River Forest.

Damn the potholes, full speed ahead

Sun-Times man Steve Huntley weighs in on aldermen as advisors to the U.S. government rather than allocation of pothole repairs:

What to do about Iran must cause countless sleepless nights for countless generals, Pentagon strategists and political leaders in the White House and Congress. Now they’re going to get advice from the Chicago City Council.

Yes, and in Chicago style, the fix is in:

The Council’s Human Relations Committee is scheduled to hold a hearing today on a resolution “opposing any U.S. attack on Iran.” The full Council could vote on it on Wednesday. The results are a foregone conclusion. Today’s hearing features among its witnesses the anti-war figure Scott Ritter and John Mearsheimer, a University of Chicago professor known for seeing “Israel lobby” machinations behind U.S. foreign policy.

And as this blog made much of two days ago, the eminent Stephen Kinzer, apparently late of the NY Times and currently teaching at apparently two universities in this area, will also testify, surely about U.S. failures in the Middle East — a specialty of his — and the trouble with jousting with Iran.

Huntley notes “the lone voice” opposing the resolution, that of Ald. James A. Balcer (11th), a war hero from Viet Nam war days on grounds of “sending a wrong signal about protecting the lives of the young men and women our nation sends in harm’s way” (Huntley’s words). 

Note the eight-alderman sponsorship of the bill, including Joseph A. Moore (49th) and Toni Preckwinkle (4th) and newcomers like Sandi Jackson (7th) and Robert W. Fioretti (2nd).  These are your Obama liberals, if I may introduce a phrase into discussion of Chicago ward politics — thinking man’s and woman’s liberals, you know, who think globally and act locally, you know, cherishing their illusions through the thick and thin of gaping potholes and murder in the streets.  God bless ‘em.

She’s a fighter, all right

This Tennessee congressman, Jim Cooper, a Dem, went to see Hillary about her health care bill back in the 90s, intending to show her his own bill, privately:

“She brought in a camera to record the meeting. And she has not released the memos on this meeting. She immediately declared war on me. I warned her we didn’t even have the votes (for her bill) in our subcommittee. She said, ‘We’re going to (politically) cut your legs off.’ I’ve never gotten such a cold reception as I got from her.”

Oh boy.  Just the spunky gal to make things hard for Obama.

He’s cute, too

In the matter of what makes Hillary run (and not stop), this from Emily’s List founder Ellen Malcolm touches a nerve:

We might scoff at the identity politics run wild in this election cycle. But this personal identification [of low-income working women with Mrs. C.] and the sense that once again one of their own has been aced out by a young, glib, and underqualified male will be a bitter pill to swallow for many of Clinton’s staunchest supporters.

Young, glib, and underqualified, eh?  You don’t have to be a low-income working woman to find that nicely said.

Wuxtry, NY Times leopard shows spots

I see Smooth Stephen Kinzer is letting his activism get the better of him and intends to testify, and not under subpoena, to Chicago’s aldermen as an instrument of Joe Moore’s foreign-policy leftism.  It’s official then, he’s no longer a reporter but a man whose biases — ahem, his conclusions based on extensive research — have got the better of him. 

Here’s one of one of his talking points, as appearing on the (left-wing) UK Guardian website, where it’s not clear for what publication he wrote it:

By naming his favourite military officer, General David Petraeus, to head the US Central Command, President Bush evidently hopes to terrify Iran. Americans and people in the rest of the world, however, have at least as much reason to be terrified as anyone in Tehran.

Kinzer is or was the NY Times man in Chicago but hasn’t written about political corruption.  You can get your hands dirty that way.  Rather, he’s playing ball with Chi Dems dying to see one of their own in the White House, arguing for one of his more notorious policy positions, of the “Can’t we sit down and talk?” variety. 

That would be the Big O., featured in the John Kass column today as “magically unstained” by the “Chicago way” of doing things.  Kinzer is a longstanding believer in the U.S. as mideast bungler, but he might pay heed to his being used by the left.

He will make aldermanic eyes glaze over, I expect.  See K’s ideas on the Iranian matter also in today’s Chi Trib (Left-wing) Perspective section, where he is i’d’d as a journalism and political science teacher at Northwestern U. 

(But in Oak Park we hear of him as teaching at Dominican U., River Forest.  He’s left the Times?  His most recent byline is Feb. 11; so either he has a very easygoing gig or is no longer at the Times.)

In any case, wine and cheese will not be served to the aldermen, those doughty protectors of their right to make money hand over ringed pinky, as Royko used to speak of.  But they will like whatever helps their man Obama.