The best thing Rahm Emanuel did was run. The second best thing Rahm Emanuel did was leave.

He left without being asked or run out of office or sent to jail, which is unusual for Illinois. I lost count how many former governors ended up in jail. The mayors have faired better unless you stop to count how many years we have lived in the Kingdom of Daleys. 43 of the last 61 years there have been Daleys running around with the distinction of being called Mister Mayor.

All of that changed. First and foremost, the person currently running around with the distinction is going to be called Madame Mayor. We elected Lori Lightfoot. She will be Chicago’s first openly gay, black mayor.

She! 

This is great news for the black community. This is great news for the LGBTQ community. This is great news for women. 

She!

This is great news for men of conscience.

She!

This is even great news for MAGA HAT wearing MAGA TROLLS who are ready to let the blood flow back to their brains by loosening the strangle hold of the KLAN HOOD and joining the rest of us in the thinking world where your skin color and penis aren’t viewed as accomplishments.

Go do something with your white dickhead, dickhead.

I supported Amara Enyia. Early in the process, I decided to get behind her candidacy. I wanted to test out a new theory I’d been floating around in my head. What would happen if I stopped treating elections like the horse race, where I bet too much emotion on the win. What would happen if I got behind someone early, threw myself in to collecting ballot signatures, knocking on doors and when called to accomplish any small task on behalf of the candidate, said this…

YES.

Here’s what happened: Amara Enyia lost.

So it goes.

Shortly after she lost, when I decided to seek-out Lori Lightfoot, I got blasted by Amara’s Campaign Team for getting ahead of my skis. In case you don’t know what that means, getting ahead of your skis is what happens when you over-anticipate the mountain. It’s the quickest way to eat your face.

It begs the question: why did I seek-out Lori Lightfoot before she was endorsed by Amara Enyia?

Here’s why…

At the end of the first debate between Lori Lightfoot and Toni Preckwinkle, each candidate was asked to compliment the other candidate. I don’t really remember what Lori Lightfoot said. It was something innocuous about the enormity of Toni’s accomplishments and how she respected all of the work she put in to earn her spot as a finalist in the runoff election for mayor, in a field which started with 14 candidates. Then it was Toni’s turn to compliment Lori, and she made it about Lori’s sexuality. She couched it as a compliment, but Toni is old enough to know you don’t out someone else in a compliment unless you’re trying to let other people know something they might not already know, or might let their uncomfortableness turn them into an active bigot.

Some call it a dog whistle. 

I call it a deal breaker.

The next day, I went to Lori Lighfoot’s campaign headquarters on Lawrence. I looked her in the eye and told her I didn’t want to spend too much time talking about it, but I hated what Toni Preckwinkle did with her compliment. She nodded her head. That was pretty much it but I felt relief. Then I told Lori I was an Undecided Voter who was hoping she’d spend a little time making things right with Amara Voters.

They were pissed.

On the night Amara Enyia conceded, I was at her campaign headquarters at Blue Lacuna. There was a lot of trash talk. The hardcore staff was convinced Lori Lightfoot had kneecapped Amara Enyia by leaking unflattering stories to the press. This might be true, but it’s just the nature of a political campaign which are designed to be a bloodbath.

You have to take your lumps. This wasn’t the first time I suspected Amara was too young for the job.

When Jussie Smollett was attacked in Chicago, I reached out to Amara’s staff and tried making the case this was a moment for Chicago to recognize we live in a segregated city and this kind of violence wasn’t unusual, it was simply unreported. I asked Amara to reach out to the police, the former mayor, the incoming governor and hold a press conference in the hospital room of Jussie Smollett.

I was ignored. I’ve been ignored before, mostly in my dating life.

Looking back you would think it was a good move but you would be wrong. If Amara Enyia wanted to be the revolutionary candidate, which was how she positioned herself in a cluttered field, then someone needed to step up on behalf of the presumption of innocence.

She hedged.

She!

This was the moment Amara Enyia lost the race, if you ask me. You can’t hedge and be a revolutionary. You have to stand in the middle of the Twitter Shit Storm and let them throw everything they have at you until they find someone new to shower in vitriol.

Speaking of racist insanity otherwise known as American Exceptionalism, on this day in 1968, Martin Luther King was shot dead. I’m sorry to use language like shot dead. But it’s time to stop glorifying all gun violence. I’m starting to get the feeling that saying Dr. King was assassinated adds a layer of nobility to something that was totally unnecessary. I don’t see any difference between Nipsey Hussle being shot dead, the school children of Sandy Hook being shot dead, the school children of Parkland being shot dead, the school children of Columbine being shot dead, Laquan McDonald being shot dead and Martin Luther King being shot dead.

We can do better than this. I know we can do better than this.

Look at New Zealand. Within 72 hours of a mass shooting in a Mosque, they changed the country’s gun laws and the people of New Zealand began turning in their guns for no other reason than it’s the right thing to do. Nobody had to tell them to do it. Are they better than us? I don’t think so. Maybe. I mean, what do I know?

Really?

I’ve never been to New Zealand. But I get the feeling it has everything to do with the racist insanity which has been rotting in the soul of America since before the ink dried on parchment.

Who writes all men are created equal, and at the same time, owns slaves? I’ll tell you who: dickheads.