My former town Chicago did itself proud today by shutting down a Donald Trump fascist-fest. And that guy who took the podium by the way has some serious balls. Seems a good moment to relate a story that might clarify just how Chicago feels about Donald Trump. This was 2005, when the Trump International Hotel & Tower was completed. People in Chicago, who are justly proud of their usually world-class architecture, had not wanted this ugly piece of shit built, but Trump got it built anyway.
At the time, I was working the front desk at the Chicago Architecture Foundation. You may know them from their famous boat tours of Chicago's buildings along the river (one of which famously resulted in the Dave Matthews Band tour bus dumping human waste onto one of the boats) We would often have various luminaries in the world of architecture give talks.
Trump came in to speak one day. The subject was the new building, and his office--who are just about as dickish as he is, or were at the time--were adamant on one major point: we were not to inform the press.
So we didn't. And the people who had been invited to listen came. And no one else did. So far so good, right?
Not so good! Next thing you know, the talk is delayed while the Donald paces around the lobby--looking around to see if anyone recognizes him--loudly ranting to someone on his cell phone "WHY ISN'T ANYONE HERE?" and more to that effect. I watch this from behind the glass wall separating my office from the lobby. Usually you could hear little through it. He was pretty loud. It was bad. I was a bit worried hearing this; hadn't they told us not to inform the press? And indeed that had been the case. We'd done our job, or else he'd have been yelling at us. No, that wasn't the problem.
The vast marble CAF lobby
The Donald was appalled because the press had not found out anyway, on its own. Because nobody in Chicago gives much of a fuck about Donald Trump. His assistant, I assume, then called the press and once press started showing--still not much of it--an hour late, his talk began. He didn't look too thrilled when he left, but that was hardly our fault. So if you wonder what Chicagoans think of Trump: they want him to fuck off back to New York, keep ruining that, and leave Chicago alone. (Chicago can ruin itself just fine, thanks)
Incidentally, I saw The Hair. What it is: it's a three-way combover, all of it originating from the back of his head. Three long combovers some poor bastard has to weave together into the orange gopher on his head every day. He ducked in his head and adjusted it in a mirror. I told him it looked fine.
It didn't. That was why I told him that. ___________________
"Eternity with Beelzebub, and all his hellish instruments of death, will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me and this pencil." - E. Blackadder, 1791 Questionable
words & pictures from John Linton Roberson SUPPORT MY SINFUL WORK AT PATREON!