Compassionate Governance

Before we go to the polls on Tuesday, it may do well to consider the words of a long-ago politician of character:
 

“It was once said that the moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; and those who are in the shadows of life—the sick, the needy and the handicapped.”
—Hubert H. Humphrey

[Photo by Chalmers Butterfield.]

I Started A Joke, Which Started …

Yeah, it started in a New York City bar with a prank that involved a live chicken. The prank was thoughtfully strategized, a chicken was procured, and all went well—for both the prankster and the victims. But then came the part of the plan for which no one had a plan: What should be done with the chicken?

I don’t know how many subhumans knocked their skulls together to come up with the idea, but somehow they decided to place the chicken in a garbage bag and put it into the trash bin behind the bar.

That’s the point when our hero, Sean, entered the frame. What would you do if you noticed that a bag being added to some trash was MOVING?

Sean took action immediately—and by himself. No calls to Animal Control, no waiting until the prankster ducked inside. Nosirree. Sean asked what was moving inside the bag and the man told him the story above. The man said he didn’t know what else to do. [When did thinking become so monumentally difficult for our species?]

Sean wasn’t sure what to do, either, but he knew leaving a live chicken in a trash bag was NOT an option. He also knew the two cats back home in his apartment—not to mention his landlord—probably wouldn’t appreciate a new feathered companion.

So Sean called Catskill Animal Sanctuary (CAS), and they agreed to provide a new home for Roxbury the chicken.

“The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.”
—Émile Zola

But wait! The story gets better: Sean took his rescue one step further by signing on as Roxbury’s sponsor at CAS, and Sean’s girlfriend, Marlene—after holding Roxbury and seeing her as something more than dinner—vowed to never eat chicken again. Two people who weren’t actively engaged in animal welfare suddenly changed their lives and their perspectives because of an ill-conceived joke.

It’s National Chicken Month again, dear readers. This year, let’s celebrate by giving a hand to Sean—a fellow who, through happenstance and compassion, made a big difference in one little chicken’s world.

[Pic of Roxbury from Catskill Animal Sanctuary.]

Say What?

I read this the other day:

“Ethics is the new competitive environment.”
—Peter Robinson, business leader

Oh, Mr. Robinson, how you make me laugh. I know it wasn’t your intention. But, honestly, there are so few of your kind who care about social responsibility and the high road—opting instead for shareholder happiness and the bottom line—that I’d hardly call your arena “competitive.” But we can keep dreaming, can’t we?

[Graphic from the Everything Small Business Journal.]

What Would Lincoln Think?

t last I was granted a conversation with a lawyer today about my eviction case.

Not the lawyer assigned to my case, naturally; that would be too much to hope for. But someone who at least has appeared in court before.

I asked her what our chances are of winning the case should we pass on the lame offer made by the landlord's attorney.

"50-50," she said.

50-50? That's it? Yet another WTF moment in this alternate universe of black robes, obfuscatory language, and incomprehensible formalities.

As my husband notes, Why not just flip a coin? Why go through the court system at all?

Furthermore, why do we bother having any housing laws in Chicago if landlords don't have to adhere to them?

As if our former governor wasn't evidence enough, today's conversation with counsel certainly points out that it pays to be crooked in the Windy City.

"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers"

That oft-quoted (and misquoted) Shakespeare line has been rattling through my brain lately. But here in Chicago, a better strategy might be to kill all the landlords first.

I'm beginning to believe that Chicagoans could begin to make a dent in the deep-rooted corruption of this city if they held landlords liable for their behavior and decisions. We have laws that are supposed to protect tenants from unscrupulous building owners, yet the courts typically look the other way whenever a landlord slips up. If home is where our children learn their values, and home is rented by more than half of Chicagoans, then creating a civil and law-abiding citizenry begins here.

Let me explain my absence from Lull and why I've chosen this topic to discuss today.

I'm being evicted. Not because I was late with the rent or didn't pay the rent or violated any provision of my lease or broke the law or made my neighbors mad about something. 

I am being evicted because I have a long-term lease that the new owner of my building knew he was supposed to honor when he bought the building yet has decided he can't wait any longer to raise my rent. (OK. I can't be certain it's the owner. It could be the building manager who orchestrated the eviction, but the owner is certainly expediting the process.)

A nonprofit agency is providing legal help to me and my husband. They're excited because they'll probably be able to get the landlord to acquiesce to giving us 30 maybe 60 days to vacate the premises rather than the 5 days it would have been if we didn't have legal counsel.

WTF?!

How is that a victory for us? Our lease is supposed to run until 30 April 2011. But here in Chicago, all our landlord had to do was say we never tried to pay our rent (though our rent check was in the rent box along with everyone else's on 1 August) and then he conveniently didn't respond to any of our e-mails, letters, or phone calls once we discovered what he was up to.

We ran into an acquaintance yesterday who also happens to be a real estate lawyer. We know him from our neighborhood because he also has a dog. We explained our situation and he just laughed. He said it's "just business." 

Again: WTF?

I get that it's not personally motivated. I get that it has nothing to do with us.

But there are plenty of companies out there doing business legally; some of them are even ethical and then a handful are actually socially responsible. So how is it that Chicago landlords can act lawlessly and without retribution? How is it that as the renter—as the VICTIM—I'm the one who will have to pay for the landlord's whims?

Our long-term lease has been the one blessing I have recounted every time misfortune has come knocking. "At least we're not homeless," I would say to my husband. "Thank goodness we have a long-term lease and don't have to worry about where to live while we're worrying about so many other things," I would remind him. How wrong I was. How very, very wrong.

So we've been cleaning and sorting and preparing to sell 27 years of a life together. I started selling books yesterday. I'm doing one room at a time. I'm going to learn how to use a camera today and start taking pics of household goods to sell. I'll post items on Lull, but they're pickup only—I can't mail or deliver to anyone. I know you understand.

I'm not sure the meek will inherit the Earth so much as they will shoulder its burdens. I'm ready to return to my planet now. I've had quite enough of this one.