This analysis took place while Quinn was still Governor in Springfield.
The epiphany brought on by city workers armed with clipboards over stuffed with nominating petitions for the upcoming aldermanic and mayoral contests is hardly the Star of Bethleham signing, " Oh, Come! Oh Come, EeeeeeeeeeMaHahan You All! To run some crap games NEAR EAR Da EL."
Sorry.I have been trapped in 6th Grade at Little Flower Grammar School since 1964. I got me some kind of Rod Serling brain disorder.
Anyway, Fusco and Mihalopoulos are on target. Though it is hard to tell what a universally silent man is saying. The troops are out. I have barely finished hefting multiple Fran Hurley and Bill Cunningham panic fliers into the Blue Recycle Bins when new glossy political promissory notes appear in my mail chute.
I decided to talk to one of disappearing legionnaires of Chicago City Work Force - Clay Calhoun, or CC, to neighbors and friends.
CC came to Chicago in 1978 from Rapid City, SD as a campaign worker for Senator Frank Church's bid for the Presidential nomination. CC was quickly dragoon'd to the Ted Kennedy Campaign and when Jimmy Carter got the nod was left here to dangle. He worked for various Ward organizations, until he found a home here in 19th Ward which in the 1980's was run by giants - Jeremiah Joyce and Mike Sheahan. Giants speak truth - 'you have a job.' Giants do not understand Passive Aggressive. That is the language of the Progressive - " I AM working for you. I AM hearing you. You Catholics are SO needed. The Republicans control everything and now is not a good time. You are the Best! Vote!"
Mike Madigan and the Giants got along. Madigan speaks no words, but deeds up a storm. Giants match deeds with words.
CC has worked steadily. I decided to ask Clay Calhoun about the word about Emanuel as political currency;met him for coffee at Horse Thief Hollow.
"CC," I said, " how will the 19th break the news to voters that it is Okay to vote for Mayor Coon Eyes?:"
CC looked up from his recent edition of the Beverly Review, took a sip of coffee, rub his South Dakota hawk-like beak and managed, " Rahm's not too bad."
Thereby hangs the tale and each every one of us.