Thursday, June 30, 2022

"Woke" Democrats are about to destroy America — the State of the Blog, Year Nine


      My 10th year of writing Every Goddamn Day begins Friday, and this is my annual pause to review the blogical year now past. I've looked back at the form, and these annual reports seem to have become occasions for public whining about fatigue and carping about obscurity. The good news is that I'm not doing that this year. At least I'll try to keep it to a bare minimum. EGD is not a burden, it's a benefit, not a flaw, but a feature of my life, a valued feature. I'm glad for the chance to do it. It's an oar in the water, a dog in the race, albeit a very small, very slow dog loping along far behind the bounding pack.
     Whoops, it's so easy to slip. But that's just candor. I can't pretend this is rattling the windows. That isn't my brand. I honestly think existing under the radar is a good thing, as illustrated by the single post this year that achieved what I consider a hint of the social media shock waves enjoyed by the big dogs: June 8's constitutional analysis, and that got notice only because the headline mentions child porn, and that caught the attention of toxic screamers, who excited their groundlings. When I first noticed the tweet had 120 comments I reflexively cried out, "Oh no!" Within hours it reached 10,000 comments.  I was steely-eyed, determined, locked in; I didn't read one, which took resolve, but was smart strategy, as I will explain. Keep the poison out. Besides, certain plants grow best in the dark, and I'm one of them. Or so I tell myself.
     The big news of the past year is that in May I finally finished the book that this blog inspired, "Every Goddamn Day: A Highly Selective, Definitely Opinionated, and Alternatingly Humorous and Heartbreaking Historical Tour of Chicago" (yes, I know. I think it's a search engine optimization thing, or a Victorian exuberance which crops up now and then in publishing. The title originally was even longer, but I implored them to chop a little.)
     When I turned the manuscript in to the University of Chicago Press, I told my editor, sincerely, that the book was so much fun to research, so interesting to write, that I didn't care whether they publish it or not. That might sound strange, but it was sincere. I'm at a point in my career when whatever eyebrow twitch or stifled yawn my work extracts from the public can't be the reward. The reward has to be the doing. You rarely hear a writer say he likes to write, and it might be a sign of hackdom, but so be it. It's true. 
     Well, except for copyediting and proofreading the galleys, which was an exhausting grind. And terrifying, given the errors I managed to pluck out at the last moment. I hope that I don't spend its publication in October in a kind of miserable crouch, waiting for the assorted typos and factual errors to come pelting down on my back, like hot ash from Mount Vesuvius. I won't be surprised though.
     But that's ahead. In the past year, EGD has gone to some interesting places, and I appreciate you tagging along. The monthly highlights:
Edith Renfrow Smith
   In July, 2021, we met Edith Renfrow Smith in advance of her 107th birthday. A reminder of the importance of just going. I had no idea of her history, and was merely tagging along with a reader who invited me to meet a really old friend. Then she started talking about being the first Black graduate of Grinnell College and Herbie Hancock teaching her daughter to play "Chopsticks' (it also was a reminder to do your homework, which I hadn't).  I was pleased that Hancock not only gave me a quote, but called Smith on her birthday.
    In August we popped in on S. Rosen's to watch them make buns, and learned about how COVID affected even the production of bready hot dog wrappings.
    All year of course I kept pouring water on the Trump flare-ups still threatening to burn down democracy. In September, I reminded everyone that for all the grimness associated with "1984," from the perspective of today, George Orwell was an optimist. Nothing seemed to diminish the monstrosity, but that doesn't free any of us from the obligation of trying.
     In October, I challenged myself to find a fresh take on that hoary chestnut of Chicago history, the Great Chicago Fire, to mark its 150th anniversary, and believe I succeeded, starting with Mary Todd Lincoln, the president's widow, who was living in Chicago at the time of the fire.
    In November, we paused after a Trump stalking horse won in Virginia to savor the ululations of his minions in "A word from Scut Farkus and friends."
     In December, we looked to the past, as preview of the social disaster that was indeed coming when the Supreme Court would reverse Roe v. Wade half a year later in "Pro-Choice Priests and Suicide Girls."
Peanut butter
     January kicked off 2022 with photographer Ashlee Rezin and me in the COVID intensive care unit at Roseland Community Hospital, tracking the front line medical battle against the Omicron variant. While some commentators indulged in false hope, on Feb. 15, nine days before the tanks rolled across the border, we explained "Why Russia is about to invade Ukraine." In March, I accompanied Thresholds as they treated the mentally ill on the streets of Chicago. April saw a farewell to my friend Lee Flaherty, founder of the Chicago Marathon. May saw one of my patented attempts to praise a product, in this case, why Smucker's Natural Peanut Butter tastes so good, turn into a far funnier study of corporate incompetence. 
    Which leads us to the month now ending. I can't overlook my Neenah manhole cover story, which took years to set up, and got solid reaction and big front page treatment. Then there was the headline that blew up on Twitter, "Why restrict child porn but not guns?" If you read the piece, you see it's a sober legal juxtaposing the 1st and 2nd Amendments. But the Twitter mob doesn't read the actual articles, that would delay their simply melting into bubbling pools of indignant hysteria. But I refused to feed the trolls, and was rewarded by the entire kerfuffle utterly vanishing in about three days, a valuable lesson to others who find themselves being raked by a Twitter enfilade. Keep your head down and just wait. Nobody really thinks you're a pedophile. Nobody is actually going to come and kill you. You can also restrict who can comment on your tweets, and I've now been doing that routinely. The post became my second most popular, with over 23,000 hits. A good thing, I guess, though I'd trade that for 2,300 people reading the column and thinking about it. No? How about 230?
     Which leads us to the all-important numbers. The blog didn't seem to have the randomly generated spiderbot spikes of past years. So with 800,876 clicks for the year, that translates into an average of 66,739 readers a month, or almost 2,200 a day. Not the big leagues, but consistent. Seven months were in the 60s, two in the 50s, two in the 70s and one in the 80s. 
     Look, if a scoutmaster finds himself with an audience of six 7-year-olds around a campfire, he still tries to tell a good story, the best he can, and doesn't pause to shake his fist at the sky because he's not telling it to 100,000 scouts gathered at a jamboree in Soldier Field. I can do no less. 
     What else? The Chicago Sun-Times was purchased, for the traditional dollar, by WBEZ, the local National Public Radio outlet, and that was considered a good thing, both for the improbable lion-and-the-lamb union, and for the $60 million plus in charitable dollars doing so magically unlocked. We announced Wednesday that we're moving our downtown newsroom from Racine Avenue to the Old Post Office, which is exciting. I marked my 35th anniversary on staff in March, an astounding figure, and wrote myself onto the front page with sufficient consistency for me to entertain hopes that I won't be sacked in the coming year, the way most of the established columnists over at the Tribune have been. This was the year that writing a newspaper column felt as if it had sunk into the mock heroic, like wearing spats or being a professional luthier. It is still a job category — people write columns, just as they make violins — but not precisely a growth field. Nothing would be more encouraging than to spot a sharp young columnist making waves, but there isn't one that I can detect, either because no one wants to try, or because there are no jobs to be had if anyone did. No one seems to care, and I'm trying not to either. One day at a time.
     EGD's North Shore bureau chief, Caren Jeskey, hit her mark 52 weeks in a row, providing an alternate voice to mine, an amuse bouche of caring, engaged, active, joyful enthusiasm offering a valuable counterpoint to my more languid, inert, doleful contemplation. 
      Marc Schulman, of Eli's Cheesecake, ran his traditional series of holiday ads, nudging EGD from a pure hobby into the realm of commercial enterprises, and for that I am truly grateful. For the ads, and for the cheesecake, which is in my freezer right now, and should be in yours. You can and should purchase some Eli's cheesecake here. 
    Comments after the post seemed to have dwindled, and I'm not sure why. People just don't react as much as they did. Maybe I've lost some readers to senescence. I've considered just shutting down the comments, as not worth the bother. But between half a dozen and a dozen loyal readers seem to really like commenting regularly, and I see no reason to shut them out. Not yet anyway. Thank you for your thoughtful contributions to the blog, and for the corrections.
     The headline on today's post, by the way, is taken verbatim from the first line of a Charlie Kirk fundraising letter, the far right fountain of fascism suggesting that being sensitive to history and to the lives of others is somehow fatal to America — and I suppose, to his America, it is. Let's hope so. I have no illusion that the past year, or all nine years, of curious centrist exploration of Chicago and the world around us will ever resonate beyond we happy few. But you can't say I didn't try, and I appreciate you hanging around to read it. 


33 comments:

  1. I'm guessing that the photo at the top is the iron scrap that Neenah Foundry melts down for manhole covers.

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    1. I like the image of the small structure at Peninsula State Park, in Door County, WI. Saw it decades ago, but never used it. A fresh new perspective on that old expression--"Built like a brick shithouse"...

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  2. Thank you Neil for EGD. I have read your columns for many years in the S-T before EGD & have read EGD since the beginning. I find your columns & EGD interesting & thought provoking, but personally I don’t feel the need to comment. I’m looking forward to reading your new book. Congratulations on EGD. A faithful reader!

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  3. A great read as always. One correction, though. We columnists who left the Tribune were not “sacked." We took an attractive buyout offer and ran out the door.

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    1. Potato, po-tah-to. Looking forward to lunch Tuesday.

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    2. I have NEVER met anyone who says po-tah-to.

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  4. Count me among the happy few. Been there for the whole ride plus several of the books. So appreciate what you do and how you do it. Mazel Tov on 9 years of EGD!

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  5. Congrats on completing 9 years of EGD without getting fired, beaten by raving mobs, excommunicated (if that were possible), featured on Fox News as a somewhat prominent pedophile, just below Hilary, just above Lori, fire bombed in your leafy paradise, or tarred and feathered in one of your downstate forays. It's been fun. For this reader anyway.

    John

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    1. Actually, Fox News pretty much did that recently. https://www.foxnews.com/media/chicago-sun-times-columnist-guns-harm-children-more-than-child-pornography-so-lets-restrict-them

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  6. i'm relatively new to your little scribble (about a year now), and find it a refreshing supplement to your paid gig at the rag. thanks for staying with it.

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  7. Congratulations on another year, Neil. Regarding comments, I don't often feel that I have anything worthwhile to contribute myself but many times will scroll down to look for edifying things that others have added. So thanks for resisting the thought of shutting down the comments.

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  8. Cheers to you and EGD. I may not be able to read every one, but every goddamn day I do is instantly improved.

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  9. "I told my editor that they publisher or not." One well known writer would find this disingenuous.
    "When I am dead, I hope it might be said,
    His sins were scarlet, but his books were read," Hillaire Bellock
    Tom

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    1. Ops! I left a few words out in the quote from your text. As you no doubt know, Dr. Johnson disagreed with the notion of writing for the fun of it, famously labelling those who write except to be paid for it blockheads.
      Tom

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    2. I write for money primarily, so I hope that I escape the stern doctor's edict. I consider the blog practice, and nobody faults a professional athlete for stretching before a game for free.

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    3. Moliere said it, and my writer-editor wife had it on her office wall and used to quote it: "Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for fun, then you do it for a few friends, and finally, you do it for the money."

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  10. I won’t be offended if you decide to shut down the comments. I’m amazed you oversee this, Twitter, and probably other social media.
    You’ll still evoke thoughts. I just won’t be able to post them.

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  11. Always enjoy your columns and blog entries. Keep up the fight. Many of us need the encouragement to go on.

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  12. Congratulations on another year of providing insightful analysis of matters mundane, significant and, increasingly in this forsaken nation, terrifying, with your inimitable diligence and style.

    John says: "Regarding comments, I don't often feel that I have anything worthwhile to contribute..."

    Neither do I, but I try not to let that stop me. : ) I also wonder why the number of comments has dwindled since the early days of EGD, but assume it's just that there's only so much time in the day, and folks are busy. Thanks for indulging us few, happy or not...

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  13. Thank you and long may you continue to write, Neil.

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  14. You are a master. Please continue.

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  15. Big fan of your mad skills. Often shushed. I'll keep coming back

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  16. Like many others, I’m still reading every day, usually before any other columns. I comment less frequently not because of the content, but just because I seem to be busier lately. For the most part that’s a good thing.

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  17. I came late to the party, Mister S. Didn't start reading your blog until right before Trump won, which you predicted. I lurked for another year, mainly to see what flew and what didn't, and what would and would not piss you off. Finally posted for the first time in early 2018. Still a part of the few, the happy few, the band of brothers...and sisters...who continue to enjoy the privilege of commenting here.

    I edit and re-edit my replies. I work on my words and I try to keep them civil. I'm not always so successful at that, at which time the proprietor will (and has) exercise his discretion to kill them. That has rarely happened, mostly because I do my best to choose my words more carefully than at the handful of other venues I'm still able to frequent. Our local alternative weekly closed its comments two years ago, and I've apparently received a lifetime ban at the Washington Post. I just finished a year's suspension at Nextdoor, so I have to be good. But even if you pulled the plug on the EGD comments tomorrow, Mister S, I would continue to read this blog every goddamn day. It's become an unbreakable habit.

    Can't wait to read your latest book, because I enjoy your words and your style, and because I've been a Chicago history junkie all my life. I've gotta get off my ass and find your earlier books. Once again, mazel tov and zei gesunt, boychik. I hope I can continue to say that for a long time to come. Thirty-five years on the job? Hell, you've already lasted longer than either Greene or Royko. And that is definitely nothing to sneeze at.

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    1. Thanks. Though writing as anonymous, you might get lost in the crush, as insane readers tend to write in that way, sometimes in batches of five or 10 or more emails, and they can get deleted at a stroke. I try not to let the poison in. So if you would register a name, that would help ensure your careful effort doesn't go to waste. I appreciate everyone who comments sanely.

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    2. Sorry, Mister S--That was The Grizz tawkin to ya. Guess my tendency to post in lengthy paragraphs didn't get noticed, as you get a lot of responses.

      I totally failed to notice that the little 1980s Cubby Bear was missing from my comment box when I posted. Which meant that I had been unintentionally signed out...and became "anonymous"...

      I had some system problems on 6/28. It now appears that I was automatically logged out of all my sites and accounts and had to sign in manually to each one.in order to post or comment. This I forgot to do when I commented here, earlier today. So now I'm restored to my normal status. Thanks for not poofing my kudos.

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    3. Sorry Grizz that I didn't pick up your distinctive tone. Understand the comments here are part of a daily barrage of reaction — emails, twitter remarks, Facebook comments, text messages. At times they blur.

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  18. Great comment about the importance of speaking to the few, as important as speaking to the 1000’s. I am pretty new as well to your EGD. About a year. Always a good read

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  19. Your columns and posts have me thinking more deeply, and laughing each and every time. Thanks for being here, and letting me join the party.

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