But Will She Name Names?

That sign ain't bullshitin'.

Ironically, it sits at the corner of 64th and Dorchester in the 20th Ward. Yes the same ward of the former Alderwoman Arenda Troutman.

You know the former alderman who just plead guilty to charges of mail fraud and tax evasion related to corruption charges of soliciting bribes from real estate developers.

We all know what the newspapers say.

And the Department of Justice's affidavit is enlightening. Note how certain banks got put on blast.

But what inquiring minds want to know is what other developers paid to play?

Hellcat

Say what you will about Craig Gernhardt but I’ve always thought highly of him.

For the unfamiliar Mr. Gernhardt is the author of The Broken Heart of Rogers Park which happens to be one of the leading hell raising blogs on the north side.

He questions authority at every turn. Generally giving his alderman and all of the “in the know types” in the 49th ward the business.

That kid takes no prisoners.

A ball breaker extraordinaire.

From political happenings to neighborhood crime to slumlords, Craig finds time to ring everybody’s bell.

Now I haven’t seen him in over eight years but he was no different when we were neighbors in Uptown.

He ran a small flower shop and stayed active in local issues when he was on Wilson Avenue.

He did not suffer foolishness lightly. His fervor for a high neighborhood quality of life was slightly eclipsed by his fervor to take an active part in the solution.

That’s a nice way of saying Craig picked up the trash instead of complaining about it; he confronted the gangbangers instead of backing down and crossing the street; he shooed away the prostitutes and the panhandlers that intimidated most others.

In short, he walked the walk.

He wasn’t (and isn’t) half steppin'.

Personally I remember him for more than his no nonsense demeanor.

I remember him for giving me my first pet.

I remember him for allowing me to buy the funeral arrangement for my mother’s casket on credit because I had to cover the bills at the house in South Bend and had no money.

I remember waving to him and the other ball hawks outside of Wrigley when I was on my way to the bleachers.

I also remember the occasional extra stems he’d slip into a bouquet I’d purchased.

Ever so often I drop in and read his blog. Frankly I think it’s one of the best in the city.

He asks the tough questions and refuses to be led politely down the primrose path.

So I say, “Give ‘em hell Craig.”

You’ve (still) got a friend down in Woodlawn.

An Inconvenient Truth

Like him or loathe him, Al Gore may have had a point about this global warming thing.

Three days ago, it was 70 degrees.

70 degrees. In January. In Chicago.

Let that sink in for a minute.

I don’t think we have to wait until this current generation of children grown up before we start noticing severe climate changes.

If this foolishness keeps up Joliet and Cicero will become prime lake front property.

Aside from this obvious problem, the big snow that the Chicagoland area received a few weeks ago has melted.

Usually I’m used to seeing the soggy trash strewn ground in late March or early April. This year my winter malaise came a few months early.

I took it upon myself to pick up the gross, wet trash that had blown in front of our buildings.

Frankly I don’t know where all of the trash comes from as we religiously pick up in front of our property. I guess the wind must carry it down the street.

It may just be me, but it seems that a bulk of the trash on our side of the street comes to rest in-between the spokes of our gates.

As I donned the gloves and filled up the bag, I noticed a significant demographic shift concerning the neighborhood refuse.

Our little neck of the woods must be on the come up as the discarded liquor and beer bottles have changed from malt liquor, Hennessey & rotgut label brands.

Now I’m picking up Fat Tire bottles, Guinness empties and all sorts of premium high priced vodka bottles. Someone was thoughtful enough to leave an empty case of Patron tequila near the curb.

Say what you will about Woodlawn but at least someone around here is drinking well

Reporting From Left Field

Did you not love the supreme diss Jesse Jackson, Jr. gave Todd Stroger & William Beavers in the Tribune on Sunday?

Talk about keeping your pimp hand strong.

Surely Congressman Jackson didn’t just come to the epiphany that Todd Stroger doesn’t know what he’s doing.

I wonder what’s the major motivation?

This has all of the makings of classic Chicago political power struggle. I can’t wait for the next shot over the bow.

He Already Had Me With His Cinnamon Rolls

It's not like I wasn't a Tom Tunney fan already.

Prior to being the alderman of the 44th ward, he was the very public face of the Ann Sather's restaurant on Belmont.

Many a time I'd stop off after work too tired to cook, too hungry to wait and too poor to buy groceries. Methinks Mr. Tunney recognized all three and would slip a sister a complimentary bread plate to go along with my vegetable soup.

'Cause you know bread ain't free when you only order a cup of soup.

He was kind enough to chat as well. To make me feel welcome despite the fact I was spending less than five dollars (with tip).

As you can see I've never forgotten the gesture.

So it should come as no surprise that as the Alderman Tunney is leading the way to forge a set of behaviors and practices for developer/neighborhood relations.

Behold another aldermanic rock star.

...And You Thought The Firemen Were Hot

I preface this statement with my apologies to Mrs. Dart & Mrs. Yamashiroya. But I must say that you are both married to some incendiary quality hotties.

Yowsa!

Among the usual suspects at yesterday’s Gay Pride Parade were the delectable Sheriff of Cook County, Tom Dart and 23rd District Chicago Police Commander Gary Yamashiroya.

When did those who were sworn to serve and protect get so blazingly hot?

For disclosure’s sake, I have met Commander Yamashiroya as he and I know some of the same peeps back from my old ‘hood. He doesn’t seem like the ass kicking, name taking blue collar image you’d get of a Chicago cop.

From what the peeps have told me he seems to be measured, fair and an all around good guy.

He’s not a boozer, he doesn’t have a rep as being an asshole---‘cause the last person you ever want to meet is a cop with an attitude problem and you don’t hear about him being a skirt chaser.

Frankly, its cops like that who give the Chicago Police Department a good name.

Then of course that handsome mug don’t hurt either.

There he was, marching and waving with his lovely wife and young daughter. Always lean with a little bit of a tan.

A hot man who loves his wife and child and doesn’t try to kill them---Go figure.

In my limited view of the world there is nothing more attractive than happily married men.

No I’m not one of those skanks who sets her sights on the brass ring just out of her reach but rather it gives me hope that nice marriageable, non-commitment phobic, straight men do exist.

Was that our loud? I’m sorry---just step over all of that baggage I just dropped and we’ll continue.

There’s just something about a man who loves his wife and family that is very tantalizing. The irony is that, well---he’s married. So the chances of the hot man ever being that good to me is zero.

I know it’s warped but I suppose the grass always looks greener on the other side.

At least until you fall into the toilet and get the vapor lock of death around you ass because your husband left the seat up.

I suppose the hotness might wear off at that particular moment.

But boy howdy Sheriff Dart almost makes a sister want to go out and break the law.

I strongly suggest getting an honest to God look at that man in person. You’ll thank me later.

I was not aware that the good citizens of Cook County put eye candy in office.

Silly me I vote based on people’s record as it pertains to the office that they’re seeking, not their looks. But if I did Sheriff Dart would have won hands down.

Now it’s easy for me to extol the virtues of hot men while I sit anonymously (for the most part) behind a computer screen. The funny part is if I were standing next to them at a cocktail party I’m sure I’d make an ass out myself.

I am still very much the dorky sixteen year old girl who still can’t make small talk with the boy of my choice.

Now I’m many things, shy and under confident aren’t two of them. I am so the captain of my ship that I can put the wind in my own sails.

Nonetheless it never fails to surprise me that a person who can talk the talk (always) AND walk the walk (mostly), has not one word to say when a hottie walks in the room.

Go figure?

So if the good Commander, the Sheriff and I were having a chat I’d probably be giggling my way through the whole conversation.

Oh---and add some lip biting to boot.

I told you I’m a dork.

So I float on the outer peripheries, admiring the law enforcement man candy from afar.

Mrs. Dart and Mrs. Yamashiroya, do you ladies realize how lucky you are?

Slumlord Ordinance

…Yet another reason why my alderman kicks your alderman’s ass. Why is she such a rock star?

Head Scratcher

As most of you already know, the aldermanic races are long over.

While my alderman retained her seat, 20th ward alderman Arenda Troutman was trounced by her opponent Willie B. Cochran. Personally speaking that should have come as no surprise to anyone.

Nonetheless I find it highly coincidental that ground has been broken for what I strongly suspect will be another new condo development on Dorchester.

If you’ve been keeping count, that’s three---count ‘em---three new developments on Dorchester between 63rd and Marquette

Interesting timing, just dumb luck or fate? You decide.

Rife

If I were a guy right now, I’d have a perpetual hard on.

This aldermanic corruption shit is just sensory overload for us local political junkies.

Federal charges based on a piece of property in another ward, questionable & defensive behavior by the sitting alderman, a fiery rebuttal press conference, a turncoat operative with felonies in his past, disgruntled constituents and now questionable loans at one of our city’s oldest and most respected banks?

This place is rife with corruption. Can’t you just smell it in the air?

But you must admit, Alderman Troutman has a friggin set of brass ones. To quote Jay-Z, "Ladies is pimps too."

Hell I just might pop a boner after all.

This Just In

Huge breaking news!

20th ward alderman Arenda Troutman was arrested earlier today on alleged bribery charges.

Cats and kittens, this has huge implications for Woodlawn and the emerging redevelopment of the south side as a whole.

While Alderman Troutman is not my alderman---I'm in the 5th ward---but she is the alderman for a huge chunk of the Woodlawn community. If you've read my earlier posts you know that everything that happens in Chicago's 50 wards is largely controlled by the alderman.

Any official business on her plate is obviously on hold.

...And scant weeks before the election. Wow whee!

When the feds are involved that ain't a good sign.

Drag Queens & Politicians & Homosexuals---Oh My!

What is the world coming to when you see the Republican nominee for governor sitting on a float in the gay pride parade?

My first reaction was to shield the eyes of the child closest to me.

Forget the transsexual “women” who are far prettier than me.

Half naked, over baked muscle boys in barely there shorts don’t even raise my eyebrows anymore.

A Republican nominee for governor---that’s something to talk about.

But I digress…

My weekend was spent not hating my developer but rather in search of fun and frolic. I took a short hop up to Minneapolis to watch the Cubs get their ass handed to them.

Then early on Sunday I flew back to Chicago, dropped my stuff off at a friend’s house and settled in for the parade.

If I didn’t know exactly how much I’d been drinking I would have swore that I was hallucinating.

I saw our sitting governor pressing the flesh. Believe everything you hear---his hair doesn’t move---for any reason.

Then a few floats later I saw Judy Barr Topinka, the Republican nominee for governor and almost passed out from the sight.

Just a little background for you folks---in order for politicians to appease a broad range of potential voters, they tend to send people to march for them in a parade instead of showing up themselves.

I’ve never seen Mayor Daley march in a gay pride parade yet he has been well represented in years past.

But when actual politicians start showing up you know something is afoot.

I guess I should of recognized it when the straight girl with boyfriend parade spectator ratio exploded in years past.

And the brouhaha with the display window on Halsted street should have been a red flag.

What clinched it was the entrance of a dueling pianos float from Sluggers.

This is obviously a play for the cabaret set. Perhaps Sluggers’ management is hoping that since it’s a sports bar as well that it may bring in some of the gay jocks.

Apparently the emergence of the gay sports bar Crew has people at Sluggers realizing the potential revenue from gay athletes.

I stopped going to Sluggers after Cubs’ games in my early thirties as their Sam Adams from the tap tastes like ass.

Trust me I drink enough of it so I should know.

The voting population at large may be split on gay marriage but at least one thing is clear in corporate and political America---the gay vote and gay dollar are very much in vogue.