Open letter to Daley

Dear Mayor Daley,

I have been waiting to write you this letter until the incident report appeared on ChicagoCrime.org. I have noticed that we have not had an incident in this city since May 26th. You are doing a heck of a job. This site does not include white collar crimes. White collar crimes have nothing to do with my story or why I deserve the medal to the city but I thought I would put your mind at rest before I got started.

On Memorial Day of this year I was playing a little poker with some friends. Not for money, of course, that would be illegal. And in this fine city we hate illegalities almost as much as small airports. I was driving home from the game for a delicious steak dinner that my wife was grilling and opted to pick up some tasty ice cream with some money that had mysteriously found its way into my wallet.

Suddenly, on the corner of Clark and Albion (I may be off by a block or two) a little old lady (I'd say 80-85) came flying out of the bus stop and landed on her back in the street. I look over and 4-5 youths were scattering. The largest member threw a bottle into the street. There was trouble brewing, Mr. Mayor, but I was not scared and I knew what you would want me to do.

From my vehicle I saw that the other kind citizens that were waiting at the bus stop were helping the old lady so I took it upon myself to make sure that justice - Chicago-style - be done. Figuring I would be less winded from inside my car, I drove off after the largest member of the youths; the one who had thrown the 40 oz. He cut across Clark Street heading east and I was quickly on his tail. By quickly I mean about 5-10 mph.

As I approached him in my vehicle I noticed that he was a large man. I decided that Chicago-style street justice would be best achieved from the safety of my car. I quickly and nimbly dialed 911 while driving along side of the perp. The kind lady on 911 asked for a description and I gave her a damn good one. I even went out of my way to speed up just slightly to read the suspects shirt to her. I know you are a fan but wouldn't you know, a White Sox fan.

This is the most dangerous part of street justice. In fact when the perp saw what I was up to he made a quick step towards me. I swerved. It's pretty daunting to be involved with catching crooks.

As I continued driving while giving coordinates to the 911 operator, I noticed that I was being followed by another large scary man. This one was in his car as well. While I was deciding what this could mean the old lady throwing guy made a break for it into a baseball field. Here I knew cars were not allowed. And being a law abiding citizen, I hopped out of my car. So did the big man behind me. Rattled I opted to stare the man not running from me down. He looked very familiar.

"You watch the cars and I will chase him," said Junior Gracie, "If I knew he didn't have a gun . . ." We both knew how that story would end. With an armbar. While the 4th degree black belt chased the large criminal, I bravely watched the cars.

A car pulled up very slowly next to me. I looked inside and saw three men with bullet-proof vests on.

"Are you the police?" I asked astutely.
"Yes."
"He's over there."

Now as I am sure you know, Mr Mayor, police are allowed to drive on baseball fields. They did so and jumped out at Junior. Junior quickly corrected that misunderstanding and the police apprehended their man. Knowing that the police would want to speak with me and would probably not ticket me for not having city sticker because I had just become a Chicago treasure I drove around to the area of the original assault. I saw one of the officers, pulled over and went to speak to him.

"I called in the 911 report do you need me for anything? A statement, to identify the man, anything?"
"I thought it was a robbery."
"Uh, I didn't say that but do you need me to . . ."
"No, go home."

I did. Went home to regale my wife and our neighbors with tales of my bravery and duty done to the city of Chicago.

I know that you will want to give me the key to the city in a public forum. After all, you recognize bravery and good work done by the citizens of the city. I will be available most of the summer. Maybe we could start Lollapalooza with my receiving the key? Just a suggestion; you, after all, are the Mayor.

Sincerely,

One F

P.S. As a friend, let me give you a tip. We know when you are lying to us. You stutter.