Chicago’s Coldest Day

 

This is our sunrise on Wednesday, January 30th. (Photo by Barry Butler, who actually went out a braved the cold to get this shot!  Thanks Barry!)

Today is, by historical records, the coldest day in 148 years of Chicago weather reports.  Temps are at -21 degrees Fahrenheit. And that is without the wind chill factor, which brings it down to about -50.

C-c-cold does not really describe it. Frigid? Cutting? Benumbed? Hyperborean? Arctic? Siberian?

This is how we earned our nick-name “Chiberia”.

This mural is actually made out of snow!

In Chicago we have a great sense of humor. You would too, if you were stuck in -50  degree temps.  Ice and snow might harden us, but they soften us too. What else can you do but laugh?

This tweet sums it up — by Chicagoan David Taylor II™

Everybody else be like: “Snowmaggedon! Snowpocalypse! IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD!!!!”

Chicago be like: “I might be a few minutes late to work.”    

 

We have been called a bloodthirsty city. They even dubbed us “murder capitol of the world.”  But despite our bad rap, there is plenty of beauty in Chicago. If you can stand the blizzards.

Lake Michigan, with its ice and steam, is an eerie wonder. This video by weatherman Tom Skilling is almost surreal.

 

The good thing about the cold is it keeps people inside. No murders will be committed this week.  There is a certain peacefulness to be found in sub zero temps. A silence and a solitude. Schools close. Many businesses close. People have no choice but to gather around the hearth and home. It is in these times we take clues from our ancestors and go into survival mode.

Good thing we’ve evolved out of loincloths!

When it is unbearably cold, neighbors check on other neighbors. We bring each other food. We dig each other out the snow banks.  If someone goes on a grocery run, we offer to pick up stuff for everyone.

Image may contain: 2 people, meme and text

We get the chance to slow down and consider the importance of community, the importance of friendship, the importance of life.

Murder capitol of the world? Bah!

Just be careful when making tea in the tundra…

 

In the meantime, I’ll be dreaming of summer. (This is us too!)

            Photo by Sven Brogan.

 

 

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Resurrection Mary

 

His name was Vince. By day he worked as a mild mannered bookkeeper for the infamous Chicago Stockyards — those that fueled the meat packing industry and gave us the name “Hog Butcher To The World.”  Vince, however, liked to reassure people he worked “Nowhere near the slaughter houses.” But most of the time he figured it was best to not mention his place of employment at all. Especially in polite conversation, when he hoped to meet girls. Which was his exact intention one spring evening in 1939 when he cruised out to the Oh Henry Ballroom.

A fan of the big bands,  Vince loved nothing more than to patronize Chicago’s many dance halls, tap a toe, and if he was lucky, get a pretty girl to dance with him.

And so, nothing was so very strange about that one Saturday night when a restless Vince slicked his hair with Bryl Cream, put on his best double breasted suit, and headed out to his favorite  jitterbugging joint. The Oh Henry Ballroom was located in the suburb of Justice, Illinois, just southwest of Chicago on Archer Avenue.

Vince spent a while grooving to the music and drinking Cuba Libres (rum and cokes) before he spotted one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. She was wispy and ethereal, what Vince would call “a real looker,” a blue eyed blonde dressed in a white ball gown and fancy silver dancing shoes.

Vince could not resist. He approached her, and, wanting to appear cool, said as casually as he could manage: “Hey, it ain’t right to stand still for Count Basie. Why don’t we cut a rug on this one?”

The girl agreed. The couple danced to a few loud, fast numbers. When the band took a break, Vince began a conversation. He found out her name was Mary and she lived in  Brighton Park on Chicago’s south side, somewhere near south Damon Avenue. Vince was from the same neighborhood.

The band played a slow, romantic ballad and the couple danced cheek to cheek. It was then that Vince noticed that Mary’s hands were cold and her skin brittle. Much colder and more brittle than they should have been, for Mary could not have been more than twenty or twenty one years old.

Vince sensed that she seemed self conscious as he cringed at her cold skin, so he made a joke. “You know what they say? Cold hands means  a warm heart.”

Mary smiled. The couple spent the rest of the night dancing together and when the ballroom closed, Vince offered her a ride home.

Mary gave Vince her exact address on south Damon. It was a straight shot down Archer Avenue, not a bit out of his way. However, on the ride home something strange happened.

Vince was driving down Archer when they passed Resurrection Cemetery, the graveyard of Chicago’s Polish community. Mary insisted that Vince stop the car there.  Vince was baffled, but, not wanting to upset her, he complied. Mary opened the door, and stepped out of the car.

She looked at Vince, her eerie ice blue eyes piercing.

“I have to go now. You can’t follow me, so don’t try.”

With that, she turned and walked up to the cemetery gates. She put one hand upon the iron chain that bound the gates together. She then disappeared.

At this point the dumbfounded Vince began to wonder if someone had slipped a mickey into his Cuba Libres. He was terrified, but determined to solve this mystery. Not only was there the weirdness of her disappearing, but since she had danced with him all evening, Vince had hopes of beginning a relationship with this lovely girl.

Vince spent the rest of the night driving his Chevy up and down Archer Avenue, looking for a blond girl in a white dress. He drove until dawn, and then, when the cemetery gates opened, he entered. There, among the cement angels and monuments engraved with a variety of old world names like Barankowski, Ignasiak and Janulewicz, he explored.

The morning sun reddened his sleepless eyes. The Bryl Cream of the night before had lost its effect and Vince wandered, hair falling on his face, clothes disheveled and stubble of a beard now sprouting on his cheeks.

There was no sign of Mary.

Vince decided to drive to the address Mary had given him.

He drove to south Damon Avenue and parked the car. The street was a chain of near identical brick bungalows separated by narrow concrete gangways. Only the porch and lawn decorations differentiated the houses – American flags, statues of the Virgin Mary, velvet portraits of an all seeing Jesus whose eyes seemed to follow him as he walked up the street.

Finally he came to Mary’s “house”. He rang the doorbell.

The woman who answered looked (as you may have guessed) like an older version of Mary. Her mother! That, of course made perfect sense. Vince would inquire after the daughter, who no doubt had somehow made it home by now.

“Is Mary home?” Vince asked.

The woman stood silent for a few moments, then a look of fresh grief spread across her face. “Mary doesn’t live her anymore,” she said.

“She… She doesn’t?”

The woman took a deep breath. “My daughter Mary died in a car accident four years ago. Who are you?”

Vince, who feared for his own sanity as well as his reputation as a “normal” person, made up an elaborate lie on the spot:

“I knew Mary in high school,” he said.

Vince claimed he had been Mary’s friend, but lost touch with her when he went to attend college downstate. He said he had only recently moved back to Chicago, and sought to rekindle their friendship.

Mary’s mother invited him into the house. The first thing Vince noticed was a framed photograph hanging on the wall.  It was indeed the same girl he had danced with the night before.

Mary’s mother went on to explain that, four years ago, Mary had gone out dancing at the Oh Henry Ballroom with a boy she had been dating. Sometime in the course of the evening, Mary had gotten into an argument with the boy. Mary stormed out of the Ballroom. Even though it was winter, she did not bother getting her coat. She wandered down Archer Avenue, dressed only in her gossamer white ball gown and silver slippers. It was then she was struck by a hit and run driver and instantly killed.

Mary’s family, who were of Polish descent, had her buried in Resurrection Cemetery. The corpse was dressed in her white ball gown and silver slippers.

Her ghost has ever after been known in pop culture as “Resurrection Mary.”

** NOTE: There are many similar stories of Resurrection Mary that have circulated over the years. Several people have claimed to see “a woman in a white gown” hitchhiking near Archer Avenue. Some have even claimed to pick her up. She inevitably pulls the same stunt Vince witnessed; asking to be let off near the cemetery, upon which she touches the gates and disappears.

I chose to relate Vince’s story because it seemed to have the most character. Vince was a patron of Chet’s Melody Lounge which is located across the street from Resurrection Cemetery.

Photo of Chet's Melody Lounge - Justice, IL, United States

According to patrons and bartenders, Vince told his story in the Melody Lounge for fifty years until his death sometime in the 1990’s. Reportedly, he told it in intimate detail and each time, looked as if he had, indeed, seen a ghost!

The bartenders at the Melody Lounge began a tradition which they keep to this day. Every Sunday, they mix a Bloody Mary for Resurrection Mary. The set the drink on the edge of the bar in hopes that Mary might show up and drink it. So far, no luck.

Vince never returned to the Oh Henry Ballroom. The place was later renamed The Willowbrook Ballroom, and remained open as a dance and banquet facility until it was destroyed by a fire in 2016.

Vince also never located Mary’s grave. He was apparently too spooked by the whole incident, plus he never asked her mother her last name (as this would have trapped him in the lie…)

For the record, I have two grandparents and a few other relatives buried in Resurrection Cemetery. I have also been dancing at the Willowbrook Ballroom. However, on no occasion have I seen Mary, not near the ballroom, not on Archer Avenue, nor in the cemetery.

But hey! I am still a believer. Who doesn’t love a great ghost story? 🙂

Do you believe?

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday Mick!

 

Happy Birthday to Michael Phillip Jagger, my all-time favorite Rock & Roller!!!

He was born on this day, July 26th, 1943 in Dartford, Kent. He hails from a long line of teachers, but young Mick became enamored with music and singing at an early age.

Believe it or not, he started out as a choir boy,  singing in his local church.  This little tyke got no Sympathy from the Devil — or perhaps he did!

Mick Jagger first met Keith Richards  when they were just little lads attending Wentworth Primary School in Dartford. The year was 1950. The two lost contact as children, but ten years later, as teenagers, they would reunite again in a chance encounter on a train platform in Dartford.  They began a conversation about music. Each had a deep love for rhythm and blues — probably a bit unusual for English kids at that time.  Needless to say, a life long friendship was born.

Jagger and Richards, along with Brian Jones would go on to form  The Rolling Stones, arguably the best ever Rock & Roll band. Their first appearance was on July 12, 1962 at the Marquee Club in London. Their name ‘The Rolling Stones” was taken from a song by  Blues legend Muddy Waters, a favorite of both Mick and Keith.

Years later, they would perform with Muddy himself (in my home town, Chicago! 🙂 )

To date, the Rolling Stones have released 30 studio albums, 24 live albums, 25 compilation albums, three extended play singles, and 120 singles.  The band has been together for fifty six years! (So much for fickle break ups and the questionable longevity of rock bands…)

Reportedly, the relationship between Mick and Keith has not been without its stresses. Best friends are often constant competitors. Keith has called Mick “an unbearable snob”  but also states: “I still love him dearly … your friends don’t have to be perfect.”

Whatever their relationship, no one can deny that these two are an amazing force of musical talent.

FUN FACTS:

  • Mick Jagger became an official “Sir” in 2003 when he received a Knighthood from Charles, Prince of Wales.
  • Yes — he received the Knighthood from Charles because Queen Elizabeth II refused to award him in person! (Sorry Mick, looks like you can only get so “Respectable”.)
  • Mick returned the snub by being absent from the Queen’s 50 -Year  Golden Jubilee pop concert, which commemorated her 50 years on the throne. Ouch!
  • He is an avid supporter of music instruction in schools. His pet projects are The Mick Jagger Centre in Dartford and The Red Rooster Programme.
  • He has eight children by five women, five grandchildren, and one great- grandchild.  Some of the Jagger family tree:

  • His oldest child, Karis Jagger, was born in 1970. His youngest to date, Deveraux Octavian Basil Jagger, was born in 2016. Go Mick!
  • Regarding Mick’s Knighthood, drummer Charlie Watts sarcastically commented: “Anybody else would be lynched: 18 wives and 20 children and he’s knighted, fantastic!”
  • He has been immortalized in evolution! A 19 million year old species of long legged pig was named after Mick. In  2014, the “Jaggermeryx naida” (“Jagger’s water nymph.”) was officially christened by the scientific community.

  • Sir Mick is a very wealthy man, with a net worth of $360 million.
  • This rock legend has become the subject of many a pop song. Don McClean immortalized him in “American Pie” as did Carly Simon in “You’re So Vain.” He is the subject of Maroon 5’s  “Moves like Jagger”, Kesha’s  “Tik Tok” and the Black Eyed Peas’ hit “The Time (Dirty Bit)”.
  • He had tremendous respect for his parents, calling his father, Joe, “the greatest influence on my life.” Joe Jagger lived to the ripe old age of 93.
  • Still a fashion icon, Mick was listed as one of the “50 over fifty” best-dressed by the Guardian in March 2013.

Hey Mick, you’re seventy five!  Recently back from tour in Europe and the U.K., “Moves Like Jagger” is showing no signs of slowing down yet!

And finally, here are the Stones performing their 1972 hit  ‘Tumbling Dice’, which contains the best Rock & Roll line ever written —

FEVER IN THE FUNK HOUSE NOW” 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

 

 

 

Nicola Tesla — Where Credit is Due

 

Born on this day, July 10,  electronics engineer Nicola Tesla is perhaps one of the most overlooked inventors. Although we credit Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Edison with the discovery and implementation of electricity, it was really Tesla who had the most innovative ideas and contributed the most to modern electronics.

Although he later became a US citizen, Tesla was born in 1856  in what is now Croatia. Some biographers claim  he was born — appropriately — in the middle of a lightening storm. He was educated at the Higher Real Gymnasium in Karlovac.  There he became interested in demonstrations of electricity by his physics professor.  He wrote that the demonstrations of this “mysterious phenomena” made him want “to know more of this wonderful force”.

As a child, Nicola reported having strange visions of light which he could reach out and touch.  He had a vivid imagination and was never sure whether these light visions were real or not. He had an unusual ability to visualize his inventions in his head, and even claimed to see, with his inner eye, the entire electromagnetic field of electricity.

In his early years, Tesla showed signs of mathematical genius. He was able to  perform integral calculus in his head. This prompted his teachers to believe that he was cheating.

 Tesla finished a four-year term in three years, graduating in 1873.

The most famous of Tesla’s inventions is the alternating-current (AC) electric system. This provides a fast current of electricity, able to travel long distances, as opposed to the  slower and weaker direct current( DC)  system. Without the AC system we would not be able to power modern cities and our landscape would be quite different — cluttered with small power plants and electric chambers on every corner.  In fact, AC is still the predominant electrical system used across the world today.  He also created the “Tesla coil” which is still used in radio technology, and several other inventions.

Nicola came to the United States in 1884. He briefly worked with Thomas Edison, whom he had greatly admired, until the two parted ways.  A case can be made for “good inventor/ bad inventor” with Edison in the latter role. While Tesla tried to develop his ideas for incorporating the AC system, Edison  — who was already using the DC system — jealously guarded his own interests through aggressive marketing and slanderous propaganda.

Edison convinced the public that Tesla’s AC electronics were dangerous and impractical.  He used underhanded and inhumane methods to prove this.  In his efforts to instill fear in people, Edison even electrocuted a few animals, including elephants!

Tesla abandoned Edison and went to work for George Westinghouse.

Westinghouse Electric  won the bid to light the Columbian Exposition of Chicago in 1893. They asked Tesla to participate. It would be a key event in the history of AC power.

At the Exposition, Tesla showed a series of electrical effects related to AC as well as his wireless lighting system, using  demonstrations he had previously performed throughout America and Europe.  These included using high-voltage, high-frequency alternating current to light a wireless gas-discharge lamp.  He demonstrated to the American public the safety, reliability, and efficiency of a fully integrated AC system,  thus proving that Edison was wrong. 

Throughout his lifetime, Tesla suffered from mad/ genius syndrome and all the impulsiveness that went along with it. He was known to gamble and accrued several exorbitant debts. Sadly, to pay his debts he ended up selling several of his patent rights to Westinghouse, including those to his AC machinery. The success of the Westinghouse Electric company was almost entirely based upon Tesla’s work, although Tesla never got monetary credit for it.

Having become obsessed with the wireless transmission of energy,  in around 1900, Nicola set to work on his boldest project yet: to build a global, wireless communication system — to be transmitted through a large electrical tower — for sharing information and providing free electricity throughout the world. Sounds familiar, right? But this was only 1900 🙂

With funding from a group of investors that included financial giant J. P. Morgan, in 1901 Tesla began work on the project in earnest, designing and building a lab with a power plant and a massive transmission tower on a site on Long Island, New York, that became known as Wardenclyffe.

However, doubts arose among his investors about the plausibility of Tesla’s system. As his rival, Guglielmo Marconi — with the financial support of Andrew Carnegie and Thomas Edison — continued to make great advances with his own radio technologies, Tesla had no choice but to abandon the project.

It’s too bad. Had investors believed in him, perhaps we would have had the Internet a lot sooner!

The closure of the project affected Tesla emotionally. He suffered a nervous breakdown. After that his work was mainly as a consultant. Radically ahead of his time, his interests after that were considered outlandish and a bit crazy. For example, he devoted much time to the care of wild pigeons in New York City’s parks. (Who knows what he had in mind — as carrier pigeons were a well known and reliable source of communication.)  Tesla even drew attention from the FBI for some of his so-called dangerous ideas.

Tesla died on January 7, 1943 at the age of 86. Like many eccentric geniuses, he was poor and virtually unknown. Sadly, American education does not incorporate him into the curriculum, so most kids learn very little about him. Recently however, more attention has been brought to his name by billionaire businessman Elon Musk, who named his electronic automobile company “Tesla”.  According to Musk, the mission of Tesla is “To accelerate the world’s transition to a sustainable energy future.”

The legacy of the work Tesla left behind him lives on to this day. Every time we turn on radio, watch a live stream, plug in a device or use wifi, we should remember who we have to thank!

Happy Birthday Nicola!

 

 

 

 

My Bloody Valentines: Romulus, Valentinus and Al Capone

 

Valentine’s Day is not all hearts and flowers and Fanny Mae.  But you probably already knew that.  The origins and subsequent ‘celebrations’ of St. Valentine’s Day have lent themselves to some pretty gory stuff. How did romance and sentimentality get intertwined in it? Well…

“The course of true love never did run smooth.”   — William Shakespeare

Grab some chocolates and read on to discover some origins of this strange but beloved holiday.

All Roads Lead To Rome

The ancient Romans had a holy day called Lupercalia, traditionally celebrated on February 15.  This was the original feast upon which St. Valentine’s Day is  based.  Shakespeare’s famous play ‘Julius Caesar’ actually begins on Lupercalia. Soldiers  Flavius and Marullus  need to set up extra security, due to masses of reveling people:

FLAVIUS:  Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: 
Is this a holiday?…

 MARULLUS:  You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

The real trouble, of course, will come a month later, at the Ides of March with the murder of Caesar. But Lupercal serves as foreshadowing.  Trouble in the streets, bloodshed inevitable.

What exactly was the feast of Lupercal?  There are, reportedly, a few different origins. Part of the celebration was in tribute to the goddess Juno, the patron of marriage and fertility.

JUNO

Activities involved a lottery in which young girls’ names were written on slips of paper and thrown into jars to be picked out by the boys. The chooser and chosen would then be partnered for the duration of the  Lupercalia festival. If you liked  your partner, great. But if not, you were stuck.

The celebrations then continued in honor of  Faunus or Pan, the god of shepherds.  He  represented fertility and the beginnings of spring. It was also a dedication to Lupa, the she-wolf. Legend has it that Lupa acted as a pseudo mom to the infant orphans, Romulus and Remus, suckling them from birth.  Romulus and Remus grew up to be bad asses and also were the founders of Rome.  Hence, the feast day was called Lupercalia, or ‘Wolf Festival’.

rom rem 2

Lupercalia was a wild and reckless time.

The festival rites were conducted by an organization called Luperci — the ‘brothers of the wolf’. They were the high priests of Pan. The festival began with the sacrifice of two male goats and a dog. Next, two young priests were led to the altar, to be anointed on their foreheads with the sacrificial blood, which was wiped off the bloody knife with wool soaked in milk.  (Interestingly, sheep and milk play an important role in the feast of Imbolc.)

Next – the fun part! The Luperci guys cut throngs from the skins of the animals. Interestingly, the goat throngs were called ‘februa’ — hence our month “February”. They then ran through the streets dressed only in goat skins and chased women, trying to hit them with the februa.

loin cloth

It may not have been as violent as it seems.  Girls and young women would willingly line up to be touched by the februa which had magical powers and was thought to ensure fertility. The practice was therefore popular among women who were trying to get pregnant.

Shakespeare’s play has a reference to this belief as well.   Caesar instructs Marc Antony to touch his wife Calpurnia with the throng:

CAESAR (to Calpurnia):  Stand you directly in Antonius’ way,
When he doth run his course. Antonius!

ANTONY:  Caesar, my lord?

CAESAR:  Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,
The barren touched in this holy chase,
Shake off their sterile curse.

 

My Bloody Valentinus

How did the rowdy feast of Lupercalia become Saint Valentine’s Day?

St-Valentine

The real Saint Valentine  — aka Valentinus — was a conscientious 3rd century bishop.

During the reign of Claudius II, the Roman empire was on a decline due to oppression from the Gauls, Slavs, and other forces attempting to overthrow Rome. Claudius needed all the power he could get for his armies, and felt that married men could  not possibly be good warriors.  So he made marriage illegal.  Valentinus, an advocate for human rights, would have none of this! Valentinus took it upon himself to perform secret marriages in opposition to the emperor’s laws.  He was eventually arrested and sentenced to death.

But it wasn’t that simple.  As fate would have it – Valentinus fell in love with the jailer’s daughter during his confinement.  Before his death, Valentinus  is said to have asked for a quill and paper. He wrote a farewell letter to his sweetheart from the jail and signed ‘From Your Valentine’. The expression stuck! 🙂

Linked together, the traditions all seem suspiciously similar. A lottery of valentines, the deliberate pairing of men and women, a celebration of fertility, a connection of death and love.

Valentinus was executed as a Christian martyr on February 14, 270 AD.  The figure of Saint Valentine was eased in as Christianity spread through the Roman Empire. Around 500 AD, Pope Gelasius officially declared February 14 as St. Valentine’s Day, ending the Lupercalia celebration for good.

The Birds and the Bees

During the age of chivalry and courtly love, the St. Valentine’s tradition began to take on a more romantic meaning. In the Middle Ages, Valentine began to be celebrated as a heroic and romantic figure amongst people in England and France.

Remember Geoffrey Chaucer? We all get a dose of him in high school and he is often called the ‘Father of the English language’.  But he did more than write the Canterbury Tales.  UCLA medieval scholar Henry Ansgar Kelly, author of  Chaucer and the Cult of Saint Valentine, credits  Chaucer as the one who first linked St. Valentine’s Day with romance.

Chaucer

In medieval France and England it was believed that birds mated on February 14. Hence, Chaucer used the image of birds as the symbol of lovers in poems dedicated to the day. In Chaucer’s The Parliament of Fowls, the royal engagement, the mating season of birds, and St. Valentine’s Day are related:

“For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, When every fowl cometh there to choose his mate.”

valentine

 

Gangsta Love

In Chicago we have our own version of the day of love, commemorated by the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.  On this day in 1929, famous gangster Al ‘Scarface’ Capone staged a shoot out against his rival and fellow bootlegger, George ‘Bugs’ Moran. It was an ingenius plan.

Slick Al Capone had his men pose as police officers, complete with uniforms and billy clubs. They then infiltrated a garage on Chicago’s north side which was a base of Moran’s operations. In the name of the law, they lined Moran’s men against the wall, pulled their tommy-guns and aimed. What resulted was the bloodiest annihilation in gangster history.

It is still a bit of a mystery as to why Capone chose Valentine’s Day to stage his greatest hit. Or perhaps it was very deliberate.

massacre

Astonishingly, the weasely Al Capone was never convicted of the murders. Later, however, he was captured and sent to the then maximum-security prison of Alcatraz. His crime?  Income tax evasion!

 

On this Valentine’s Day, count your blessings and share the love!

 

 

 

 

The Goat Speaks

 

white-goat-pd

Oh, you silly, silly humans. Why all the nail biting, my dears? Clearly, at the beginning of this World Series, I promised you I would lift the curse.  I signed the agreement with my hoof print, did I not?

Now, a goat such as myself may possess a good deal of deceptive qualities. But one thing I guarantee is my sincerity!  A promise is a promise and I, Murphy the Billy Goat, namesake of the Billy Goat Tavern and former pet of Mr. William Sianis, am as good as my word.

The question of the Cubs winning was never in doubt.

What’s that you say? The rain? Yes, of course I sent the rain! And with it I brought a seventeen minute game delay.

rainout

There was a method to this madness, for it allowed the players to contemplate their fate. They regained their bearings and therefore could more fully appreciate their win! A well earned victory is far sweeter than a gain not toiled for.  And so it was,  I stretched that game out to all of ten innings, allowing the Cubs their spoils at just one mere point above their competitors!

What’s that you say? The suspense nearly killed you?  Well now. Surely you can guess, it is my good pleasure to watch humankind sweat. I delight in seeing you on the edge of your seats!  You are, after all, such naive creatures.  I cannot help but toy with you.  And yet, would you not agree, I created a most memorable situation? This is a game that will be etched in your minds for all of eternity.

In the end, the curse is broken. One hundred and eight years of bad luck has been ended at my bidding.

World Series Cubs Indians Baseball

Oh, you need not thank me.  Just remember me for what I am —  a most honorable goat. I have but one request. I ask you never place me in ridiculous circumstances ever again. Leave me out of your ball parks!

Do not prop me upon your bar stools!

curse-of-the-billy-goat

Do not make an advertisement of me! For the love of the cloven hoof, GIVE ME MY DIGNITY!

Instead allow me the peace of my barn and companionship of my fellow animals.  If you do so, I will watch over your Cubs  and give them cause for celebrations in many years to come. They are a young team, new in their history. They may have a most bright future.

I, the honorable Murphy, will serve them well.

** NOTE ** Read Murphy’s original story and promise here.

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