
Michael Miner, inspired by his recent participation in defining a journalism award, ruminates on journalists who tell other people's stories in evocative, nonparticipatory fashion. Along the way, he gets fecund quotes from excellent journalists Alex Kotlowitz and Kate Boo; he also quotes Janet Malcolm's The Journalist and the Murderer, a book I recently read and enjoyed in a class taught by Kotlowitz, of all people.
In a new Mudville, Kevin Warwick pricks the debate on whether bicycle seats cause erectile dysfunction.
Plus, Savage Love: This week, readers submit their tales of polyamorous relationships.

Pretty damn close. This place should be mobbed.
Last Friday night while running a few errands, I was surprised to find carolers standing in front of Morse "L" Liquors, a corner right by the el stop where you're far more likely to encounter panhandlers or crazy people. "Would you like some hot chocolate?" a young man asked, pointing to a large orange thermos. "No, thanks, I'm here for the bourbon," I said. I got my Maker's Mark, stayed for a rousing version of "Hark! the Herald," and continued with my rounds.
Not in the view of Cook County assessor and Cook County Democrats chair Joe Berrios. As the Sun-Times’s Lisa Donovan reported today, the Cook County ethics board has dropped an investigation into thousands of dollars Berrios “accepted from attorneys whose bread and butter is representing clients seeking lower tax bills.” Of this, Berrios said, “I think what’s ridiculous about this whole thing is no one is going to be influenced by someone who gives you a check to run for office.”
I got home on Monday night to find a voice mail from my landlord, Rudy (he’s of eastern European descent). “Kate, I don’t have your rent check, and I’m worried I lost it—you’re always early. Will you call me, please?” As it happened, I’d run into some unforeseen circumstances and was two weeks behind—I’d been on my way down to the laundry room to finally pay him when I checked my messages. I called him to explain and apologize, and told him I’d included the $25 late fee. “Oh no, no, no, deduct it from your next check. You’re always early.”
I've lived in Rogers Park since moving here more than a decade ago. And I have to say, despite the Cheetos plague, the theft of both a bike and a beater car, and the hideous street art (one result of the ward's participatory budgeting effort), I love the place. In 2003, primarily to get a taste of city life—I'd never lived in a place that had aldermen before, not to mention 50—I volunteered for Alderman Joe Moore's reelection campaign. One of the things I learned is that a prerequisite for running for office in Chicago is the ability to go gloveless while shaking hands in subzero temperatures.
Joe's perhaps best known for the controversial (and since repealed) City Council ordinance banning foie gras, but within the ward I think he's made his name through quirky and, to my mind, endearing community outreach efforts like "Follow Me Fridays," where he invites constituents to join him for food and drink at a neighborhood business—last week it was at the El Famous Burrito on Clark Street.

The Chicago Urban Art Society is getting pushed out of its spacious quarters at 2229 S. Halsted Street, where, as we noted, it was the pioneering tenant just 18 months ago. Immediately after the Handmade Holidays Craft Fair this Saturday, CUAS (site of the Reader's recent 40th anniversary bash) will relocate to 600 W. Cermak, in the riverside industrial corridor now being reinvented as the Spice Barrel District. Lauren Pacheco and Peter Kepha, the sister-brother team behind CUAS say they had to scramble to find the new digs, with only about a month's notice.