Everything Old....

Come one come all today to the Great Chicago Fire Festival.  Watch as floating houses are set ablaze in the Chicago River.  Really.

They did something similar back in the 1890s, when journalist Finley Peter Dunne cracked wise through the persona of the city’s favorite barkeeper, a.k.a. Mr.  Dooley.  If you’re going celebrate a disaster like the Fire, Mr. Dooley reasoned, “What’s th’ mather with cholera?  Why don’t we have an ipidimic day, with floats showin’ distinguished citizens in convulsions an’ a procission iv hearses?  That’ud be a pretty sight.”  Mr. Mayor, your thoughts?

But Mayor Emanuel is too busy touting his latest coup, snaring the 2015 NFL draft.  Emanuel calls it “an event that highlights our world-class city and reinvests in our neighborhoods.”  Right, rounds five through eight are going to be held smack dab in the middle of the Bungalow Belt.  And when it’s all done, the name of Al Capone will be erased from the world’s memory.  

Call me old-fashioned, but I miss how each sport used to have its own season and didn’t encroach on others.  Nobody’s draft ever got in the way of the World Series.  That’s the way it should be, provided there were a couple of women ballplayers on the field.