Every Picture Tells a Story: 4/20/10

I've given Mayor Daley lots of crap over the years for the way he's run this city, but one of the relatively few things I'll give him credit for is the Downtown Theatre District, which saved one old movie palace--The Chicago Theatre, which was very much in danger of being demolished--and revived two others--the Palace Theatre on the western end of the Loop and the Oriental, which had gone from one of the premier movie houses in the country to a rat-infested grindhouse to a shuttered ghost with a discount electronics store in what had once been its lobby. Now, it hosts Broadway-level musicals; the Addams Family had a run there before heading to New York, and Billy Elliot: The Musical is playing there now.

Every Picture Tells a Story: 1/11/10

Political Miscellania

A Taxing Issue (update): The Cook County Board of Commissioners once again failed to overturn the odious, economically crippling 1% sales tax pushed through by County Board President Todd Stroger. This time, the effort to override Stroger's veto of the rollback was defeated because one commissioner, Deborah Sims, who had voted in favor of the repeal the last time it came up, changed her vote at the last minute. (Bet her constituents just love that.) I just hope the voters of Cook County remember all this--how Stroger and his enablers raised our taxes while not making necessary cuts in our bloated county government. They are stealing from us. The voters need to stop helping them do so.

Oprah-Sized Traffic Jam: On behalf of the many people (including several coworkers) who will be inconvenienced by the massive traffic entanglement to be caused by the taping of the season premiere of The Oprah Winfrey Show, for which the city is closing several blocks of the ordinarily very busy Michigan Avenue for two days, I'd like to thank Oprah for not caring how much she inconveniences the average people just trying to get their hourly wage. (Couldn't you have just had your premiere in a park? Or a theater? Or on the South or West Sides, which could badly use some attention from someone, anyone?) I'd also like to thank Mayor Richard M. Daley for telling everyone what a great idea he thinks this is, how he wishes we could do stuff like this more often and how he's sure the people understand why this is necessary. Uh huh.

Olympics Decision Day: Speaking of our mayor, he can't be too thrilled with the latest poll results regarding his bid for the 2016 Summer Olympics, which will be approved or denied in a matter of weeks. According to the latest Chicago Tribune poll, respondents were nearly evenly split on whether they wanted the Olympics here or not--hardly a ringing civic endorsement for the idea--and they clearly don't want taxpayers to foot the bill for it (by an 80-20 margin). We don't have the money. We don't have the transportation. We don't have the infrastructure. Recent city endeavors, like Millennium Park (which is beautiful, but ran four years and hundreds of millions of dollars over what it should have) and the massively screwed-up parking meter lease deal. So, naturally, the mayor thinks it's a GREAT idea! (And we keep re-electing this guy why, exactly?)

Public Land, Private Gain, Part 5

In this week's issue of Crain's Chicago Business, columnist Greg Hinz reports that the plan to move the Chicago Children's Museum from its current home on Navy Pier to the northern end of Grant Park--strongly backed by Mayor Richard M. Daley, who rammed the proposal through the Park District board and the City Council with all the subtlety of a mallet pounding a square peg into a round hole--is in trouble, if not outright dire straits.

I'd love to say that common sense is making a big comeback--that somebody in authority somewhere along the line realized that cramming the Children's Museum, a private entity, into a mostly underground facility on a small plot of public land was a monumentally bad idea and threw the plan into reverse.

That, however, is not the case. The monkey wrench in the works is more basic--and more daunting.

It's the economy, stupid.

Donations to the Museum have fallen while construction costs have risen. A Museum spokesperson insists that the plan is "moving forward." But it's difficult for any vehicle to move forward without fuel, and the fuel in this case--cold, hard cash--is lacking.

Maybe this will put an end to this ill-conceived, politically charged plan. I wouldn't count on it, though. Mayor Daley rarely gives up on what he wants, and rarely has to, with a compliant City Council and electorate to work with.

One can hope, though. One can hope.

The Comedy Stylings of Richard M. Daley

At a news conference today, Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley was asked why he was not actively supporting the efforts of Illinois state legislators to pass stronger ethics legislation in the wake of the inditement of now-former Governor Rod Blagojevich.

This was Daley's response:

We've done everything here. We're leading the way with our inspector general, office of compliance, all the things we've done. We're more transparent than any other government. Look at it. We're doing a tremendous job here, we lead by example.

He was being funny, right?

It's not remotely possible that Richard M. Daley--the chief executive in charge of a city administration that had yielded numerous corruption convictions and insider deals--could have made the statement above with a straight face. He must have giggled when he said it. Or smirked, at least.

I mean, he couldn't possibly have meant for us to take him seriously...right?

Paving the Way

On my walk to work from the train station every morning, I spend much of my time with my head down. It's not because of the harsh winds blowing off of Lake Michigan, nor because the daily trudge to the job is particularly depressing, though both of those can be contributing factors on any given day.

No. My head is down because I have to watch out for potholes as I cross the downtown streets, lest I land in one and sprain or even break an ankle.

I wish I were engaging in hyperbole, but I'm not. Even the crosswalks a block away from City Hall are so pitted and rough that removing the asphalt entirely would make it easier and safer to get around. And if that's how bad the streets in the Loop are, just imagine what it's like out in the neighborhoods, especially the poorer neighborhoods on the west and south sides--areas that, by sheer coincidence, I'm sure, happen to have the city's greatest concentrations of people of color, most especially African-Americans.

But you don't have to imagine it, do you? You've walked or driven the streets and alleys. You know how bad it is out there.

The City of Chicago knows how bad it is too, but they've said that there's not much they can do about it. This past winter was unusually harsh, opening up potholes faster than the city can fill them, and with the economy being as bad as it is, they couldn't afford to fill them anyway.

Why, then, after saying the city doesn't have the scratch to repair and repave roads, is the city repaving the streets surrounding Washington Park on the city's south side?

Because that's where Mayor Richard M. Daley wants to hold the Olympics in 2016, and a team from the International Olympic Committee just happens to be visiting the site in April.

It doesn't matter that, of all of the people I've talked to about the possibility of having the 2016 Olympics in Chicago, not one of them is enthusiastic about the prospect--most, if fact, can't stand the idea. Too much additional traffic (both public and automotive) in a city that can't seem to handle the traffic it has now, not to mention the elevated security threats the city would face.

It doesn't matter that Mayor Daley and his lieutenants have pledged over and over again that the taxpaying public won't get stuck with the bill for the Olympics, that most of the costs for building the facilities and upgrading city services like public transportation will be taken care of by combination of federal grants and private donations.

It doesn't matter that there are many, many more stretches of road in this city that are used by the people who live and die and work and spend here every day of the year that are in far worse shape.

It doesn't matter that there are far more pressing concerns in Chicago, like the expanding tax rates for just about everything, contracting salaries and job market, and skyrocketing number of children being gunned down on those same pothole-pocked avenues and boulevards.

All that matters is that company's a'comin', and Mayor Daley wants to spruce up the joint--at taxpayer expense.

Your needs? Your opinion? Don't matter a damn.

Back from the Dead and Ready to Party

I took Friday off.

I had been sick the previous couple of days, but had gone to work anyway because so many others had the bug that I couldn't be sure my position would have proper coverage. Thursday night, I went to Mom's house for dinner--yes, I know, I shouldn't have gone near Mom with a cold/flu/what-the-fuck-ever, but I hadn't seen her since Christmas Day and, besides, she works in a drug store; she's much more likely to pass the flu on to me than vice versa.

Getting to Mom's house, however, turned out to be a much greater challenge than anticipated, thanks to the CTA.

There were problems on the Blue Line subway--a "medical emergency" had stopped trains running north and, as far as I could tell, south. (The last time CTA announced a "medical emergency," a train had "made contact" with a passenger.) So I loped back up the steps and onto the street, where I caught a Milwaukee Avenue bus headed north. It wound its way through the West Loop and eventually got me as far as Chicago Avenue, where a couple dozen commuters were already milling about, waiting for a westbound bus and shuffling their feet to keep warm.

I walked east to get away from the throng (and, by virtue of being in motion, to stay somewhat warm) and waited at a stop. And waited. And. Waited. Only one westbound bus came through during my 15 minutes there, and in was so packed that passengers were standing on the bottom step just to get on. In that same amount of time, five buses, all nearly empty, were gliding east. After the fifth one passed, I flagged down a cab and made it to Mom's about half an hour after I ordinarily would have been. I could have gotten there just as fast by walking.

And Mayor Daley wants to have the Olympics here, when the transportation system can't handle an average rush hour? Brilliant.

My adventure with CTA did nothing to make me feel any more well. If fact, I felt worse Friday morning, and my workload at the job was relatively light, so I called in sick, stayed in, watched the snow fall, ate soup and drank the Walgreens equivalent of TheraFlu for the next three days.

Now? I feel so much better. Just in time for the next snowstorm, which will hit around rush hour--right when I'm supposed to head for Mom's house.

Better start walking now.

Public Land, Private Gain, Part 4

"Aldermen must reject the [Chicago Children's] museum plan," says the editorial page of today's Chicago Sun-Times, "if only to show voters that we live in a democracy, where such quaint concepts as the people's will matters, and not the whims of one man intent on getting his way, no matter how poor the plan, no matter how high the cost."

On June 8, the Chicago Tribune spoke directly to the elected officials: "Aldermen, think of the heroes of earlier centuries. Think of your legacy—stewardship or betrayal?—to your descendants, the kids of future centuries. Then tell the museum executives they cannot have Grant Park."

Unfortunately, the majority of those aldermen, not burdened with independent thoughts, spinal cords or an iota of concern for "such quaint concepts" or for what future generations might think, voted 33-16 and approved the plan.

There will no doubt be lawsuits over this (one has been filed already), but don't be the least bit surprised if, in the middle of some night in the very near future, ground is broken and construction is started--because that's exactly the kind of straightforward, forthright, principled leader Mayor Richard M. Daley is.

Public Land, Private Gain, Part 3

Yesterday, the Chicago City Council's Zoning Committee met to "discuss" the proposed move of the Chicago Children's Museum from its current cramped home on Navy Pier to a plot land in Grant Park immediately east of Millennium Park.

I set "discuss" in quotation marks because no actual "discussion" took place, nor was one going to with William Banks, an alderman staunchly (one might say "blindly") loyal to Mayor Richard M. Daley--who staunchly (one might say "arrogantly") supports the move--as chairman of the committee. Banks shut down testimony that he deemed redundant from protesters, yet allowed equally redundant testimony from the museum's architect and attorney. The measure passed on a 6-3 vote, just as it had passed on a vote by the city's Planning Commission a few weeks ago.

It doesn't seem to matter to city government or the museum that the plot of land they're obsessed with is a bad location for the museum, that there is substantial vocal opposition to the plan (including the alderman of the ward, Brendan Reilly) or that the design of the museum has been compromised so thoroughly by revisions to make it possible to stand up to the inevitable legal challenges (one suit has already been filed). Next week, the measure goes before the full City Council--it will likely pass.

At this point, the whole fight seems to no longer be about the museum or the park, but about Mayor Daley reasserting his control over the City Council, even if it means the Council will have to slit its own collective throat by giving up one of its most sacred unwritten "rules" (aldermanic prerogative) while also allowing Daley to slap down an independent thinker, the freshman Ald. Reilly.

You might have assumed that this fair city was part of a democracy. If so, you were mistaken. It's as if Daley were putting into action something a co-worker said the other day: "That's my opinion, and that's your opinion, too."

The co-worker was joking. Daley isn't.

Public Land, Private Gain, Part 2

As I (and many others) predicted yesterday, the Chicago Plan Commission approved the move of the Chicago Children's Museum from their cramped quarters on Navy Pier to new, spacious, subterranean digs in Grant Park by a vote of 13 to 2. Kudos to Commission members Doris Holleb and Lyneir Richardson for proving that they are, in fact, vertebrates. The rest of the members? I'm not so sure. (Do not be surpised if Holleb and Richardson are wished into the cornfield--and off the Commission--by His Honor in the near future.)

Not that the museum will be jammed into the turf tomorrow. There are many steps to be taken before the first shovel of dirt is thrown aside--the next being the City Council's zoning committee, which must approve the measure before it's brought up before the full council.

While many members of the City Council also do whatever the mayor tells them, they have a more difficult decision with consequences that reach well beyond the placement of the museum itself. The alderman of the ward in which the proposed new museum location resides, Brendan Reilly, opposes the plan. Usually, if an alderman opposes a project within the boundaries of his or her ward, that project dies a swift death.

So...are the members of the City Council willing to incur the considerable wrath of the mayor by protecting their longstanding privilege of giving a stamp of approval to anything that happens within their individual wards? Or will they cut out the middleman and slit their own throats by approving the measure over the local alderman's wishes, opening up the substantial probability that their own ward projects will now be fair game for the whims, wishes and warfare of their fellow council members? We shall see.

We shall also see if the Chicago Children's Museum's reputation, already damaged by the museum board's eagerness to jam this ill-conceived plan down the throats of the citizens of this city, continues to erode to the point where so much ill will has been generate that no one will want to go anywhere near their institution, no matter where it is eventually built.

Public Land, Private Gain

Millennium Park in downtown Chicago has always provoked mixed feelings.

Carved out of the northern end of the much larger Grant Park, Millennium Park is undeniably one of the most spectacular locations in the whole city: It has memorable sculptures (including the ultra-shiny Cloud Gate, better known locally as "The Bean"); a fountain visitors are encouraged to walk in that has building-high video screens at either end that spit water out of the faces projected there; a relaxing cafe; a wintertime iceskating rink; a bridge and music pavilion designed by world-renowned architect Frank Gehry; and a panoramic view of one of the greatest skylines on the planet.

The park also, unfortunately, represents much civic blundering: It ran well over budget; numerous deadlines for completion were blown (as the name implies, it was supposed to open in 2000--it didn't open until 2004); and that relaxing cafe is run by a group that just happens to have connections to the city's longtime mayor, Richard M. Daley and just happens to have gotten a great deal on the lease. (Daley has long denied that he had anything to do with what, to all appearances, was a sweetheart deal. However, given the numerous investigations and subsequent convictions for corruption throughout Daley's administration, doubts continue to linger.)

Now, the city is trying to add more to the area, already ten pounds in a five-pound bag, by moving the Chicago Children's Museum from its cramped quarters at Navy Pier to a a spot in Grant Park adjacent to Millennium Park currently occupied by a plaza named for Daley's father, Richard J. Daley (also a long-serving mayor of the city).

Numerous objections have been raised to this plan by groups concerned about protecting the intergity of the parks (and point to decades of legal precedents prohibiting buildings in public parks), by condo owners concerned about the increase in traffic in what is already a congested area, and by average citizens who worry that such a deal opens the door further for giving public land over to private institutions (even a not-for-profit one like the Children's Museum).

The mayor has no such concerns. He has been a vocal--even vehement--supporter of the move, sometimes literally and hysterically shouting down detractors of the plan as anti-child or racist.

I think it's a bad idea as well, but mostly because of the age-old realtor's mantra: location, location, location. It's a lousy spot for a hot dog stand, much less a museum. It's an awkward, out-of-character attachment to either park, a square peg being rammed into a round hole with excessive force. Other sites have been proposed, especially by the Chicago Tribune which has run a series of editorials suggesting alternate sites where the museum might be a better fit, like the "museum campus" immediately south of the downtown area (a campus that already attracts millions of visitors, including many children, every year) or areas that could use the attention the museum would attract, like Garfield Park on the city's West Side, a long-ignored jewel that could bask in the light shined on it by the presence of such a world-class institution.

The museum's choice of location--and the objections to it--have caused the board to attempt to please everyone with changes to the design of the structure, which now would reside mostly underground. That would be great if the children were moles or earthworms. That would also be great if citizens who, funny enough, would like to use the park land as park land could actually do so; the footprint of the new museum, even after it's been shovel as far into the ground as possible, still makes the land above it virtually useless.

It does not seem, however, that either the museum board or the mayor have any interest in entertaining suggestions for other, more suitable locations. The proposal for the move goes before the city's Plan Commission today, and it's expected to pass with little oppostition from the Commission board, which is entirely appointed by (guess who?) Mayor Daley. While civic groups and individual protestors will likely make noise at the Commission meeting today, I would not be the least surprised to see each commissioner take turns curling up in the mayor's lap and getting a tummy rub from His Honor. That would be far more likely than even one of the commissioners standing up and saying, in a clear and firm voice, "This is wrong, sir."

It does not matter whether this move is what's best for the parks, the city, the museum or, most importantly, the children. It's what the mayor wants. And what this mayor wants--from the midnight demolition to the lakefront airport, Meigs Field, to the hideous "renovation" of Soldier Field, the Bears' football stadium that now looks like the mothership from Close Encounters of the Third Kind has crashed within its classically columned walls--this mayor gets.

Quickies

No, not that kind of quickie. Get your minds out of the gutter for just a moment. As most of you know, my job is keeping me insanely busy and likely will through Thanksgiving, if not Christmas. That being said, I'd still like to sneak in updates where I can. So here are a few short ones, most of which go back to essays past:

My Artistic Friends
Superbadfriend used to be a co-worker and is still one of my best friends. She's also one of the most creative people I know, working with encaustics (paint made from pigments, beeswax and resin) and found objects. And now? She has a website. Go there and check out her amazing work. If you see something you might want to hang in your own home (like the miniature pieces I'm honored to have hanging in mine), shoot her an email and ask about prices. And even if you don't want to buy anything right now, just shoot her an email anyway--she's one of the sweetest, most friendly, most supportive people you'll ever talk to.

This Sporting Life
Cubs fans: You don't need Alex Rodriguez--you already have enough overpriced players who can't hit in the playoffs. White Sox fans: Aaron Rowand is a free agent--hope the team signs him and regains some of that spark back that they had when they won the World Series. Blackhawks fans: Getting home games on TV is a great place to start--hope they put something on the ice worth watching. Bulls fans: You don't need Kobe Bryant--he won't win you any more championships by himself than he won in LA by himself. Bears fans: With no running game, defenders who can't tackle and a former Pro Bowler with an arthritic back and a pissy attitude (hey, it's the media's fault your back hurts, Mr. Urlacher), the quality of your starting quarterback is suddenly the least of your concerns--happy now?

The Daley Grind
So nice of you, Mr. Mayor, to set aside your obsession with the 2016 Olympics (which a lot of Chicagoans don't want anyway since it'll make us more of a terrorist threat and create bigger traffic headaches than we already have) and your record tax increase proposal (so enormous that quite a few of us, myself included, might have to move out of the city in the near future because we won't be able to afford to live here anymore) in order to focus, if only for a minute or two, on the budget crisis at the CTA. Good to know you can pay attention to the near future--as in literally days from now--instead of going glassy-eyed like an addled 5-year-old who starts dreaming about Christmas Day in April.

Speaking of the CTA...
All those lovely, laminated signs you have taped up at bus stops and those equally eye-catching ones on the trains where paid advertisements usually are found must have cost some serious coinÑcoin you keep telling everybody and anybody with ears on their heads you don't have. I know the CTA needs a permanent funding solutions, I don't want any of my bus or train routes getting axed, and I do want our Governor and Speaker of the House to stop their dick-wagging contest because they're both coming off like short, short men. But printing and distributing all those signs and flyers makes it look like you've got money to spare or that the agency isn't particularly well managed or both--not the best impression when you've got your hand out.

The Rainbow Bridge
Sometimes, pet names qualify as truth in advertising.

Example: Stubby, a gray calico who was small, short and missing at least three joints off her tail. Her nickname, Squally, fit as well: for something so small, she sure was loud. She lived a long and mostly placid life with Mom, but even long and placid lives have an end. She'd been sick for some time--can't remember whether it was her kidneys or her thyroid--and when scheduling dinner recently, Mom told me Stubby' s time was nearly at hand; she was barely eating and had lost a lot of weight (and she never weighed much to begin with).

So the next time I came over, I sought Stubby out. She was in a cardboard box in the dining room, small and frail in the darkness. I reached in and stroked her head; she rubbed against my hand and purred loudly. As I walked away, she rose unsteadily, vaulted from the box to the dining room table (as much as a cat on her deathbed can actually "vault") and staggered unsteadily after me. I picked her up (she weighed next to nothing), carried her to the living room and set her in my lap, where she stayed for the remainder of the evening, alternately purring at being petted and staring off into the distance at something the rest of us couldn't see.

One Last Thing
Halloween is my favorite holiday. Has been since I was a kid. Always loved decorating my apartment for the occasion, watching movies with my friends, the whole deal. (Okay, not so much the dressing up part--once you spend an evening in a Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp costume, you're pretty much scarred for life.) So tonight, I'll be in front of the TV in La Casa del Terror, tasty treats at hand, remote in hand, and monsters traversing my scream...er, screen. Have a happy and safe Halloween, one and all.

(Dis)comfort Food

Over the years, when people asked me, "What's your favorite hamburger?"--and, believe it or not, this question came up more often than you'd think--I'd always direct them to a small, old-fashioned little-bit-of-everything joint on the corner of Damen and Melrose called Man-Jo-Vin's.

I was introduced to Man-Jo-Vin's--so named, I gather, because the three original owners were named Manny, Joe and Vinny--by my best friend from high school. We'd hang out at her place with her husband and kids, then head over to Man-Jo-Vin's and pick up a huge order, which we'd eat there in the summer (they had picnic tables along the Melrose side) or take back to her place. They did everything well, as far as I could tell (I never tried their fish sandwich or shrimp, because seafood and I don't get along like oil and water, Republicans and Democrats, cats and...you get the idea), but invariably I'd get a couple of double cheeseburgers.

I went there for something like 20 years, and always the double cheeseburgers were the same. It wasn't that the burger patties themselves were so great--nothing more than standard foodservice-issue beef. The buns could have come from the corner grocery store (if you even have a corner grocery store near you--those are vanishing, too).

The onions were shredded, though, and grilled (along with the bun) before being laid atop the single slice of American cheese and thus melting into it. Once you took a bite, strings of onions and cheese connected your mouth to the burger. You had become one, whether you wanted to or not. And with the flavors and textures and scents involved, you definitely wanted to.

One Sunday, I was in a bit of a mood (not that that ever happens) and while out and about, I thought I'd swing by Man-Jo-Vin's and grab a couple double cheeseburgers--comfort food does wonders for dispelling moods, no?

In this case, "no" is right: Man-Jo-Vin's was closed. Not "closed" in the "Gone Fishin'" sense or the "Damn, I missed their closing time by five minutes" sense, but in the "There's a paper, hand-written sign in the window and dust gathering on the counters" sense. Man-Jo-Vin's was closed. For good.

Yesterday, I passed the old corner where Man-Jo-Vin's had been. A condo development is currently being constructed there. Don't we have enough of those in this city? Do we don't need anymore?

The same thing happened not too long after to Toot's, a small stand on the corner of Central and Montrose. Who knows how long it had been there, dishing out good burgers, great fries and awesome cheesy beefs? Seemed like forever. But even forever, it seems, has an ending: One day, I saw a banner on the side of the stand announcing its imminent closure and thanking customers for their years of patronage.

The next time I saw Toot's, it had been pretty much dismantled: The big yellow sign on the corner was gone; the smaller signs over the doors that said "Lick me!" and "Bite me!" had vanished; even the siding was peeled back. The next time I pass that corner, I'll bet you all the money in my wallet that there'll be a condo complex popping up there.

And now comes word this past week that that Harry's, the hot dog hole in the wall at Randolph and Franklin, is in danger because of a construction project to its immediate west. I used to go there when I worked at Ameritech. Harry, the owner, was always there, and he was elderly then. Now, I hear he's 98. His wife died recently. And now the city is considering using its eminent domain powers to acquire the building housing Harry's (and two more buildings on that block), all to make a plaza and appease a prominent developer.

Very nice, City of Chicago. How sweet, Mayor Daley. You sure there aren't some puppies you'd like to drown or children you'd like to take candy from instead? Or is kicking a 98-year-old when he's down the most pressing issue you have to worry about these days?

In all of these cases, I was saddened, but hardly surprised. This is an old story in Chicago: It's there for decades, and then, suddenly, it's not. Why go to a neighborhood burger joint when McDonald's, Subway and KFC are everywhere? Who cares about getting coffee at the local diner when Starbucks is on the way? That movie theater down the street is small and old--isn't the stadium seating at the megaplex so much nicer?

There's this little fast-food place on Irving Park Road not too terribly far from La Casa del Terror. A nice old couple runs it. They make good gyros. I hardly ever see anyone else in there.

Think I'll stop by there on the way home tonight. While I still can.

The Daley Grind

Today is Election Day in Chicago. To say the least, I'm not enthused.

There are aldermanic elections in all 50 wards, but my alderman is running unopposed. Or at least I think so. (If there is opposition, I haven't heard about it.) There may also be a referendum or two to consider.

And then, there's the mayoral race. If you can even call it a race.

Richard M. Daley is going to win reelection. That's a foregone conclusion. His two opponents--Dorothy Brown, the current Cook County Circuit Court Clerk, and William "Dock" Walls, a former aide to the late Harold Washington--have done the best with the resources they've had (i.e., virtually no money). And the two potential candidates who actually had some cash and could have put up a better fight--U.S. Representatives Jesse Jackson Jr. and Luis Gutierrez--chose not to stay out of this fight. Only they know why. Maybe the new Democratic majority in Congress afforded them more opportunities. Maybe the poll numbers showed that though the various corruption scandals that continue to swirl like raw sewage around Daley's administration had wounded the mayor's reputation, they hadn't wounded him enough for an easy victory. Maybe they put their own best interests ahead of what would be best for the city as a whole.

And what would be best for the city as a whole would be to remove Richard M. Daley from office. For good.

It's not that Daley hasn't done good things in his 18 years as mayor (just short of the record set by his father, Richard J. Daley, who was mayor from 1955 until his death in 1976). Richard the Second has done plenty of good things for Chicago. He took over the public school system; granted, it's still not great, but it's in better shape than before he took it over. He's done a great deal to beautify the city. The public housing projects that had become vast stretches of institutionalized poverty are all but a memory. Navy Pier, the long-dormant stretch of concrete and brick jutting out into Lake Michigan like a middle finger, where dad and I used to spin-cast for perch when I was a kid, was revitalized under Daley's reign. Millennium Park has received much praise (locally, nationally and even internationally) and has become quite the tourist attraction. And basic services have run pretty smoothly (except, perhaps, for the Chicago Transit Authority, and even that's a more recent development).

Any good he has done, though, must be weighed against the bad. And, unfortunately, there's plenty of bad to be weighed.

He had the small lakefront airport, Meigs Field, demolished without bothering with public debate or even discussion. (In a move as cowardly as it was cunning, he had the runways destroyed late on a Sunday night, after the newscasts had all ended.) Millennium Park was years late and millions of dollars over budget, and the contract for the upscale restaurant in the park just happened to go to supporters from Daley's home ward.

That brings me back to the aforementioned scandals.

Numerous subordinates in the Daley administration have been accused, arrested and convicted for all sorts of hiring and contract-issuance irregularities. (I won't even bring up the drug-dealing in the Water Department--except, oops, I just did, didn't I?) Essentially, the impression has been created that only citizens with an "in" at City Hall can get a job, and those who do get a gig with the city don't have to work all that much (at least not at their city jobs; some went off to work at other jobs or sleep or do whatever while somebody else punched them in and/or out).

I know that impression isn't true. I know the city has many hardworking, honest individuals working for it. But the impression that jobs and contracts with the city were (and, for all we know, still are) for sale runs deep and far.

No one has yet accused Richard M. Daley himself of any wrongdoing. No one has said that he's guilty of any illegal activities. But an informed voter has to wonder: Given the mayor's carefully built reputation as a hands-on, involved administrator, how did he not see the corruption festering all around him? Or is the reality that he's really a hands-off, aloof manager who failed to notice what his direct subordinates were up to? Or, worst of all, did he see all the dealmaking and bribe-taking all over City Hall and turn a blind eye to it?

No matter which scenario in the above paragraph is true, the same conclusion can be reached: Richard M. Daley has fostered an environment in which corruption could not merely exist, but flourish, has irreparably breached the trust of the electorate of the City of Chicago, and no longer deserves to be its mayor.

Unfortunately, he's going to be reelected anyway. That doesn't mean I have to vote for him again.

I'll vote for one of his opponents. Or I'll vote for no one. One or the other.

And I suggest all of you who read this page and plan to vote tomorrow do the same, for a vote for Richard M. Daley is an acceptance of a perpetual atmosphere of corruption, unchecked greed and demonstrated lack of respect for the voters of the city he claims to love. I can't bring myself to vote again for someone who thinks so little of me as a voter, a citizen, a person.

I have more self-respect than that.