I'm just home from a wonderful July 4 holiday in the Windy City, and it's got me to thinking.
It all started when my hotel television lingered for a few moments on Fox, the station I don't allow my home television to foist on me. The peppy female announcer was absolutely giddy with her pronouncement that Bush's popularity is on the rise. (Last I checked two thirds of Americans gave him the thumbs down). I felt I was in an alternate universe.
Then I started paying attention to all of the signs in Chicago that pointed to my own "poll"...
First, you've got to realize that this is Taste of Chicago week. More than 300,000 people a day crowd downtown Chicagoland. It's a mix of Midwesterners, Fur'ners and a few sailors.
My first Bush assessment came shortly after checking into the historic Drake Hotel. In the lobby a father admonished his daughter to what out "or Bush will put you in Gitmo."
Later we took off for one of the nation's largest tourist traps--Navy Pier, a mishmash of fast food, kiddie rides and an odd Museum of Stained Glass.
We wandered into one of those souvenir shops where one can purchase a pizza-shaped hat or a Sear Tower jigger. This was the 4th weekend, so, of course, they were also a wide selection of patriotic items. Bill Clinton had his own miniature doll up for grabs. The bigger action figures were of "great American presidents." I saw a Lincoln and a Kennedy. No Bush. Then I realized something. Someone had turned most of the boxes around. I checked. They were all Bush dolls. That's karma, baby. He turned his back on us; we return the favor.
My last Bush-related sighting: An attractive woman wearing a t-shirt that read "It's not who votes; it's who counts the votes." Indeed.
In my entire stay, I saw no outward signs of any support for Dubya. Sorry, Fox cheerleader. My poll says you're wrong.