Salahis Attempted to Crash Cleek Club Chicago - I Wanted to Let the Blond In, But Houli Said "Nix on the Twist!"

Bill Zwecker notes the attempts by the Couple Salahi tp gain entre to the Midwest Polo Club - that used to trot out the chukkas for pukka at the Old Chicago National Guard Armory on Chicago Ave. a few semesters back.

Unreported - until this very moment - was the attempt by Michaele and Tareq Salahi to be admitted to the posh and exclusive (membership two -three pending: once Beachwood Reporter's Steve Rhodes pays his downstroke of a twelve pack of Drewry's Beer) Cleek Club of Chicago.

Readers ( Mom and that guy in Toledo) might recall that following an ugly incident at Chicago' Union League Club that film auteur, raconteur and libertine Mike Houlihan* and I formed the Cleek of Chicago - Gentleman's Club (No Lap Dancing and No Laplanders)
http://hickeysite.blogspot.com/2007/12/mike-houlihan-and-files-of-cleek-club.html


Some weeks ago, following Cleek's Kangaroo Boxing Night and Oyster Dinner, Chicago Renaissance Man Mike Houlihan and Myself were enjoying our post-prandial tonsil wettings of brandies ( E&J of Course!) in our tall-backed overly stuffed Baker Chairs and damning the eyes of the Pathan Thuggee over their latest devilment and afront to Our President, when Worthington bowed - presidential I might add - and announced that a striking blond woman and tuxedoed gent were at the front-door.

Houli, sound chap, asked Worthingon to pass the silver salver and "Let's have a screw at the Chappy's card. What?"

Worthington announced that the two-some had not offered their card.

"No Card? They could be the damned Press, Worthington! Only a thoroughgoing skunk and scoundrel of the First Order would deem himself presentable sans ecart entre

I saw that Worthington was deeply troubled by this oversight, as he is generally quite good at his job. Worthington is no Desiree Rogers. Her resume got not a glance here at Club Cleek. I offered, " Don't trouble yourself Worthington on this score. Mr. Houlihan would demand to see Pope Ben's damned card and check it for the Union Bug before he even considered talking to its owner."

"True!"

"Houli, Old Son, should we not give the two the once over as Cleek overhead demands at least one more member and Brother Rhodes, taken up with Porcine Ague or some such botheration, is delinquent on the golden nectar brewed in South Bend, Indiana; Bottled Ambrosia **sporting the ruggedly handsome and reassuring Mountie!"

"No, Hickey. No Card; No Chat; No Chat; No Cleek! Standards Man! This is not an igloo or some tent on a lawn! Ecart entre connaissance et usage d'une langue minoritaire : essai de typologie des facteurs. Le cas de la langue basque! This is Cleek of Chicago!"

" What's the blond Crumpet wearing Worthington?"

" Quiet fetching, Sir and might I add that she is wearing a wanton and roguish smirk that . . .

Houli howled, "I would not care a jot if she were wearing a gown made up of Benjamins, Hickey!"

" Standards?"

" They ain't just tunes by Sinatra, my boy!"

" Quite right, Houli! Worthington, two more E & J's *** and a brace of Olde English 40's . . .What? What?"

" Oh, I dare say, Hickey Old Cock, might not be a good idea -mind you. Those are two toned chino slacks you are wearing?"

"God's Tripes!"

*Chicago Television Premiere of“Tapioca”
On WTTW
WTTW, Channel 11, willpresent the television premiere of Mike Houlihan’s independent feature film,Tapioca, on Saturday night/Sunday AM December 19th at 12:30AM.

Tapioca stars Emmy and Tonywinner Ben Vereen along with Mike Houlihan and his entire family andfriends. In a story as timely as The GreatRecession of 2009, abrasive blowhard Pipes McGonnigle (Houlihan), a TV hawkerfor a Chicago car dealership, loses his job, gets kicked out by his wife, andruns afoul of a Streetwise vendor (Vereen) with supernatural powers, whoconsigns him to life as a bum by way of a hex. Former Sun-Times columnistHoulihan expanded his stand-up act of the same title and cast a host of veteranChicago actors for this comic allegory of redemption set entirely in thegrittiest of urban locations.

Tapioca features SaturdayNight Live alum Tim Kazurinsky, Greg Hollimon from “Strangers With Candy”, MarkBorchardt from “American Movie”, as well as Jimmy Carrane, David Pasquesi, PaulKelly, Michael McNeal, Jack McCabe, and several other Second City veterans.Mary Carney of “Ryan’s Hope” is also featured as a mystical bag lady.

The film premieredtheatrically at the Park City Film Music Festival in Park City, Utah in 2008.Tapioca features an original score by Chicago jazz composer Ryan Cohan andcontributions from Gospel legends Otis Clay and Lena McLin. PulitzerPrize winning political cartoonist Jack Higgins designed cartoons for theflick. Paddy Houlihan directed the film and William Houlihan executiveproduced.

The Houlihans have screenedTapioca at The Texas Black Film Festival, First Take Film Festival, The OtherVenice Film Festival, and won Best Feature Film at the Geneva Film Fest.Vanguard Cinema has placed Tapioca in worldwide DVD distribution. Mike says,“Tapioca is proof that you don’t need a million dollars to make a cool littlemovie.”

Dan Soles, WTTW Program Director,said, “Tapioca spins a fresh Scrooge, an apt Chicago comedy for our Christmaspresent.”

**"First Case of Drewrys Ale Goes to Roosevelt
One Carload Shipped to Lima Today

President Roosevelt is to get first case of Drewrys Canadian Ale to be brewed in the United States. This is not done merely by way of advertising. Drewrys is the first Canadian Ale to be produced in America and it it fitting that the President who made this possible should be recognized by this feature.

The story back of this gesture may be interesting even to the President himself. Over six months before Mr. Roosevelt was elected, Mr. M. J. Black, the President of Drewrys Ltd. of Canada and representative of various English interests abroad, came down to the States with his mind decided that Roosevelt would be elected and that the sale of malt beverages would be permitted again, and backed his judgment with his company's capital.

It soon became evident, however, that an American company was necessary to operate on American soil. Therefore the Drewrys Limited. U. S. A., was formed and enfranchised and fully financed within itself. And this American Company after a most careful survey of the brewing facilities of America, formed its affiliation with The Sterling Brewers of Evansville, Indiana, whose long record of cleanly, careful, wholesome brewing measured up well to the Canadian standard of Drewry quality. Evansville immediately put in its fermenters and aging tanks. The Drewry Ale brewed according to the Canadian standards, where, also according to the Canadian standards, it has been aging and mellowing in since. It Is now ready at long last.

One carload will arrive here for you tomorrow. Their distribution to your various good dealers will follow immediately and by the day after tomorrow it ought to be ready for you. The Lima Beverage Co. No. Main St. Main 2171 Distributor DREWRYS ALE SINCE 1877" - Lima (Ohio) News, Aug 15, 1933

***E & J Brandy Review - absolutely ripping!

Alcohol: 80 Proof (40% alcohol by volume)

Color: Dark copper.

Aroma: Sweet nose, like Belgian candy sugar, surprisingly mild aroma. Very inviting smell.

Flavor: Bites like a bugger. Makes you wince. This first thing this brandy does when it hits your palate is that it digs-in and attacks your sensitive mucous membranes with a pungent, hot, and oily mouth attack. Finishes with a hint of cashew nut and a sharp, strong, flower-petal flavor smack. A unique flavor profile that would be interesting and even appreciated if this brandy didn't burn so much initially.

http://www.epinions.com/content_2361696388

Mike Houlihan and the Files of the Cleek Club: Gordon Pasha, Islam, Teddy Bears and Olde English 40's

'Gordon! Drop the Bear! Name Him for the Prophet, Infidel? - Try This Needle Point, Mr. Eminent Victorian!'



KHARTOUM, Sudan - A British teacher jailed for letting her students name a teddy bear Muhammad as part of writing project headed home Monday after being pardoned -- ending a case that set off an international outcry and angered many moderate Muslims.

The incident was the latest in a tense relationship between the West and Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, an Islamic hard-liner who has been accused by the United Nations of dragging his feet on the deployment of peacekeepers to the country's war-torn Darfur region.

Chicago Tribune 12/03/07

Among the Doric Columns of Chicago's Newest Club, Renaissance Man Mike Houlihan explains International history and Morality to Journeyman Reader Pat Hickey - no mean task that: ( hushed quietude erupted by outraged incredulity!)

'Bugger Birkenhead, Houli! The papers resound with cries of Gordon's Ghost - the good man kebobed in defense of the Khedive of Egypt.'

'Hickey, Old Sod, Lytton Strachey and your devotion to old Bill Thackeray's son-in-law not withstanding, the truth of the matter is that Pasha 'Chinese' Gordon was guilty of the exact same crime as the plump,toothy Brit spinster - (you are yet a widower, Hickey? , never mind )- about to British Airways her way back to Old Blightey as we wheeze here in our New Club - The Cleek of Chicago, Worthington! another Olde English - on my chit - Cheers.'*

'Houlihan, you mean to say that this chubby do-gooder -tendering McGuffey's Reader to the Fuzzy -Wuzzies in the Sudan - is merely another Brit to incur the ire of Islam?'

'Quite. You see, Old Man, Gordon, like most Britons, would slaughter Wogs and Paddies with aplomb and delight all day long, but once Apollo's Orb dipped past the earth's golden sleeve - prosing too purple, am I ?'


'Prose On,do!'

'Once the infernal day ends a Brit likes nothing better than to clutch and snuggle with a plush toy animal - a Plush Bear - termed Teddy here in the emancipated Colonies. You see, Gordon, as a Professional Soldier and Amateur Humanist, liked a good Pet Snuggle along with a whacking good read of Holy Writ over the slaughtered bones of Heathen Chinese caught in Britain's Opium Trade and the Fuzzy Wuzzie's of the languishing Slave Trade; thus Gordon's presence in the Sudan. He had a stuffed bear named Mohammad that he carried with him through China and later in the Sudan. In China, he termed his dear pet Chinkey Freedman, much to the scowls of the pig-tailed Heathen, but once in the Sudan - Mohammad. You see, Hickey, Old Inflamed Colon, Gordon's naming of his pet is what stirred the ire of the Mahdi; brought on the Siege of Khartoum; bankrupted the Gladstone Government; and ultimately chucked the lumber through Gordon's pump. Lessons of History, My Boy, Lessons of Life.'

'Amazing Houli!'

'Quite!'

'Your Chinos are smoking, Old Man!'

'WORTHINGTON! Another 40! Pronto!'

* An earlier Post recounted the low blackguarding of Mike Houlihan by the snobs of the Union League Club - on response Mike founded the Cleek of Chicago - the Driver of the City:Mashies, Rakes and Niblicks are for smaller souls. The Cleek of Chicago is Big, Big Club!

http://hickeysite.blogspot.com/2007/11/chicagos-club-of-unclubable.html

Yarns from Cleek Club of Chicago: Ebert's Thumbs Up for Our Irish Cousins: I'm Mike Houlihan and I Make Movies and Drive a Ford!

Careful readers* of these hoary postings will recall that sometime during the waning days of President GW Bush's second term, Chicago auteur, venture-capitalist, swordsman and wit Mike Houlihan was blackguarded by the scions of mighty thin-bloodlines when he applied for membership to Chicago's Union League Club. Ganged together, the off-spring confederation of the Yankee manques who formed that club during the National Rebellion, could now meet in an antique phone booth, but its clout yet cudgels those whom they fear. Chicago's John Huston, Mr. Houlihan, was denied membership.

Oh WASP'S sting yet smarts; though its strike reaches not the heart and soul of good.

Houli turned to a somewhat younger, but equally unclubable worthy and formed Cleek of Chicago.

As its junior member my duties and obligations are solely fiduciary and financial and the rewards are Olympian - I get to hang with Houli.

I took refuge from a broken heart and the ague among Cleek's Doric columns and the walls of gilt Shiraz and Morocco bound volumes ancienne et moderne de la philosophie, de l'histoire et de la littérature.  My foolish heart was broken due to a faux pas that embarrased the woman I love and caused her to shudder in public when I ordered salade avant le plat principal à la manière américaine at Taylor Street's Chez Joel Bistro Francais.  Somethings are just not to be done and I allowed appetite to sweep away fond trust.

 " How could you?" the delicate and chic woman protested.

" Hey, I like salad afore the meat and spuds, Sweetie and guess what?  I'm ladling French Dressing all over the greens and onions . . .in a French restaurant!"

" Oh! Qu'est-ce une bête, vous pouvez être à des moments!"  she sniffed.

" Hey, Garson!  How's about a little more of this bubbly water?"

Here, at this last graceles utterance, fawn-like tears glowed and glistened in the candle-lit quiet and her alabaster skin went crimson, "Je ne te connais même pas!"

"Hey, It's Taylor Street, Sweets and not some Russian novel with the Cossacks playing at Talleyrand."

It took me days to have the import of those thoughtless and unmeasured remarks dent my heart to a full realization of my dastardry.  Anyway. I caught a bad case of coughs and shakes to boot.

In the Cleek, among the books and brandied Toddies I could regroup, what was left of body and soul.

Having devoured Pope's Epistles II, I decanted a needleful of E & J and on this passage:

Say, what can cause such impotence of mind?
A Spark too fickle, or a Spouse too kind.
Wise wretch! with pleasures too refin’d to please;	95
With too much spirit to be e’er at ease;
With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought:
You purchase Pain with all that Joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.	100
Turn then from Wits, and look on Simo’s mate,
No ass so meek, no ass so obstinate:
Or her that owns her faults but never mends,
Because she ’s honest, and the best of friends:
Or her whose life the church and scandal share,	105
For ever in a Passion or a Prayer:

Swine!  Hickey make things right.  Thus, the path to my arching heart and the cordial my ague.  Now, I might attend to the affairs of my fellow man!

I read the Sun Times and howled with approval Roger Ebert's review of Mike Houlihan's documentary epic Our Irish Cousins at the Gene Siskal Film Center.  I fairly jigged with delight that Chicago's Maecenas  of Film had coaxed up two chubby thumbs in favor of Houli's film - and Three out of Four Stars!!!!!!!!

Voila!
 As anyone familiar with Houlihan's work can attest, the man is a born storyteller — the kind of guy who can make a statement along the lines of "You know what's funny? Here's a good story. My brother died ..." and then actually pull it off. He gets a lot of laughs throughout the film, whether from well-polished anecdotes or spontaneous interactions with the people he meets. What is even more impressive, though, is the way that he manages to quietly layer in more serious-minded concerns amidst the laughter so that when he visits the church where his grandfather was baptized more than a century earlier, the scene winds up packing a surprisingly hefty emotional punch. 

Into the Cleek strode my friend! "My dear man!  Oh, Good Show, Houli! This from Ebert?

"Been at the E & J, again." he observed with a director's glass lanyard-ed around his neck.

" One or three to fight the ague and a . . ."

" My name is Mike Houlihan and I make movies."

"Yes, and so much more, like your work riding shotgun on the Salvation Army mobile food wagon in Uptown. . .and . . ."

"I love making pictures but I don't like talking about them.Anybody can direct a picture once they know the fundamentals. Directing is not a mystery, it's not an art. The main thing about directing is: photograph the people's eyes.   It is easier to get an actor to be a cowboy than to get a cowboy to be an actor. It's no use talking to me about art, I make pictures to pay the rent. I didn't show up at the ceremony to collect any of my first three Oscars. Once I went fishing, another time there was a war on, and on another occasion, I remember, I was suddenly taken drunk. For a director there are commercial rules that it is necessary to obey. In our profession, an artistic failure is nothing; a commercial failure is a sentence. The secret is to make films that please the public and also allow the director to reveal his personality.As a beauty, Dolores del Rio is in a class with [Greta Garbo]. Then she opens her mouth and becomes Minnie Minoso . . ."

I was taken a back, somehow my friend had become . . .John Ford!

* the blackuarding of Mike Houlihan by the snobs of the Union League Club - in response Mike founded the Cleek of Chicago - the Driver of the City: Mashies, Rakes and Niblicks are for smaller souls. The Cleek of Chicago is Big, Big Club!

Yarns From Cleek of Chicago -The Singular Case of Cole Day

Note to Dear Reader - An earlier Post recounted the low blackguarding of Mike Houlihan by the snobs of the Union League Club - on response Mike founded the Cleek of Chicago - the Driver of the City:Mashies, Rakes and Niblicks are for smaller souls. The Cleek of Chicago is Big, Big Club!

New York – Workers at New York's Bronx Zoo found the poisonous Egyptian cobra that escaped from its pen a week ago and has kept area residents alarmed ever since.
The serpent is alive and under observation and will be on view to the public again if the planned checkup finds it in good condition, according to zoo officials cited by the online edition of the New York Daily News.
The search team caught the hooded snake Thursday with some special tongs and hooks inside the Reptile House at the zoo, which the cobra had never left.
Zoo workers brought the Egyptian cobra out of hiding with a scattering of wood shavings that rats and mice use for nesting around the building, according to the CNN online edition, so that it would smell like mealtime to the serpent and lure it into the open.

Among the Doric Columns of Chicago's Newest Club, Renaissance Man Mike Houlihan explains International history and Morality to Journeyman Reader Pat Hickey - no mean task that: ( hushed quietude erupted by outraged incredulity!)

" Found him indeed! Found! Nay, those jackanape public service layabouts would not know a snake from a five iron, Hickey. Mike Bloomberg was at wit's end and asked for my assistance. Off to the Apple, I bustle, my Gladstone packed with Arctic foul weather gear, given the vicissitudes in the winds and currents of this our planet earth and Mother Nature's singular affinity for heaping snows upon the American eastern seaboard, and soundly counselled his ministers on where to find the Egyptian twister. No reptile -Democrat, Republican, or other cold-blooded creature flourishes in the open, mind you. This uncircumcised serpent would be found in the very same Reptilian Domicile from whence only the panic of louts and ninnies Twittering with thumbs akimbo emerged. I informed the Mayor's men that, in fact, fugitive meat rope had not left the Zoo at All. Why leave the Bronx, Old Man? Beckon the adder out of his lair with sprinklings of wood and leafy composite where a mighty meal of mice might be had."

Astounding, Houli!

"No less astounding than man's inability to recall past habits. Occam's Razor tells us that were one to be caused misty-eyed and worried by Dad's absence at mealtime, might just portend a brisk and healthful walk up to Keegan's Pub, rather than a call to Chicago 911. There, the Roistering Pater Familias might be found under a pile of great-coats forgotten by drunken young people -next to the GOLD CUP GOLF machine."


What common sense might do for man, Houli.

" A Quid Nunc for the ages, Hickey, my son. Now, about the current conundrum! Worthington, charge my Auchentoshan with the soda, there's a good man. This damned whisky I found wholly unsuitable to the snifter - it is as overrated as a Dick Morris insight. I prefer the Bruichladdich 15 -fresh coastal sea air, some oak, vanilla, nuts, honey and a touch of brine.Palate: Creamy and sweet, brine develops considerably, then notes of malt and pepper.Finish: Long, gentle, flavorful, and slightly oily . . ."

Houli, sound chap, your latest Gordian Knot.

" Indeed. Cole Day was one of the finest sprinters in the Chicago Catholic League - ran for Loyola Academy in the mid-1970's - at about the time you were applying the Socratic Method at Bishop McNamara. He went on to run for Villanova at the very end of Eamon Coglan's great career as Chairman of the Boards under the tutelage Jumbo Elliot. Cole Day the short distances and Coglan the mighty Mile and change. Cole Day emerged from the Augustinian university with a solid business degree; alas, sans the notoriety of Eamon Coglan.

Cole went into venture capitalism and made piles of money, that vanished in the recent national economic unpleasantness. Cole Day went missing and his life partner -Cole bats from the other-side of the plate -called me last Saturday -sharply at 3 PM at WCEV - Chicago's Voice AM Radio 1450 on your dial . . ."

Indeed, the very place for wholesome chat and pointed commentary on mankind's folly, to be sure my peripatetic friend, but to the case!

" The life partner was beside himself with anxiety and had yet to announce the disappearance of his sprinting sodomite on the Social Networks abounding - he called me to sort out the ramifications. Cole Day had gone missing a week ago Wednesday -March 16th."

Two weeks ago Wednesday . . .

" I went of course to the Exchange that had been the Temple of Doom for Day's Fortunes and every person there happened to be the same age as you and I - the darker side of Fifty and the Sunny Side of Seventy, Hickey! It was singularly interesting to be in a locale of such universally aged persons as myself - outside of Friday Nights at the Lounge of Beverly Woods . . .naturally.

I asked the Exchange President, a ruddy and solid man who had gone to Steinmetz High School Class of 1965, 'Cole Day?'

He replied, 'Boy, do I remember coal day the sound of the truck pulling up close to gangway of my Dad's two-Flat, while I laid in bed waiting for Chuck Bill's Adventure Theatre to come on and the clatter of coal cascading down the chute . . .' He was joined by other contemporaries who chorused -'I loved coal day! The guys pushing the wheel-barrows always put us kids on for ride. Hey, remeber when we all used to burn our garbage out in those concrete incinerators in the alleys -We used to climb in them and play army tank and kill maggots with our fingers. We used to take handfuls of maggots and use them to catch crayfish under the viaduct on Wood Street. I miss the cinders on the snow - remember that? Every lawn had snow dappled with coal cinders and nuclear fallout from the A Bomb Testing. How about Sonic Booms? And Nike Sites all along Lake Shore Drive? The stockyards only smelled on Wednesdays! & etc.

In bemused frustration I raised plaintiff hands 'Ladies and Gents, Please! Cole Day?'

They chorused - It was Wednesdays before noon! The big trucks came down Western and . . ."

Cole Day, Houli?

" Remember, Hickey, Cole Day was a sprinter of singular abiliity! I found out that he taken up another life partner - he had taken up with one the recent Wisconsin Democrat Exiles with whom he had become enchanted - they now reside in that Dairyland Arcadia of Madison-you know the heart wants what the serpent demands and such; thus, an unhappy ending for one. Nevertheless, the thoroughly enjoyable round of reminiscences at the Exchange. I had almost completely forgotten about Chuck Bill's Adventure Theatre -'Ding Hao Feather-merchants!' Old William of Occam! Snakes and Coal, Hickey. Snakes and coal.



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eamonn_Coghlan


http://skinnyhouli.com/