Time for Phun -OR- End Run

To drown out Chicago's massive structural deficit disclosure via the budget hearing process, Da Mare chose hearing eve to drop his "I ain't runnin' no more" bombshell.
The fudge-it budget didn't dent the din. I know! You're as shocked as I am.

Meanwhile, the public outpouring of understanding Daley's decision and hasty pols scrambling to test the waters are the dominating "news". In the alleys, on the `L' platforms and along the trendy streetscape garden oases, a low strum and chords underlies the announcement, Chicagoans are collectively thinking:



Cuz if'n you go we have to suffer Council Wars again. Great theater, bad government. Chicagoans are practical and see that having a Daley cutting deals on the 5th floor of city hall is better than 50 scheming idiots cutting deals, slicing and dicing the city while lesser ward committeemen leverage their own portfolios for a payday while everybody's still a little groggy.

Also, to distract from my inability to cogently articulate any of half a dozen draft works that still need flesh, I've been spittle spewing random thoughts, loosely tied, lightly breaded and fried. Not that anyone might notice.