Chicago, My Home Town

On the flight back from Copenhagen, returning from an impassioned plea by President Obama to the International Olympic Committee, the distinguished passengers on Air Force One learned with astonishment and disbelief that the president had failed to bring the 2016 Olympic Games to his home town of Chicago. The glittering array of liberal star-power, including Oprah Winfrey, was stunned to hear they had not even made the cut. President Obama, however, put a happy face on the news by relieving himself of all blame, laying the fault at the clay feet of George W. Bush, saying Bush had so alienated the entire world that they were still taking it out on the United States, despite he, Barack, having striven mightily over the past nine months to repair the damage, all to no avail, so deep and black were the sins of the Bush administration toward the rest of the world. This explanation of his failure was of great comfort to his fellow travelers, but calmer heads knew the real reason: he had offered the International Olympic Committee his smile and charm, but they wanted cash.  



He promised them Lake Michigan

Threw in Milwaukee too

He said they need but wish again

He’d see what he could do

About O’Hare and Wrigley Field

They’d have it if they cared

He was prepared to quickly yield

If lists were just prepared

That stated what the IOC

Would take to give the games

To his home town he’d pay the fee

All for Olympic flames

They told him money was the price

Not lakes or baseball yards

They told him once they told him twice

It wasn’t in the cards

Cash on the barrelhead is king

They said with knowing smiles

You’ve come to us without a thing

But politicians’ wiles

Fine speeches won’t advance the day

That we accept your bid

It’s pay to play Chicago way

In back rooms so it’s hid

They told him if he got the dough

They’d see if he could play

And meet at a garage they know

On next St. Valentine’s Day