The old Englishman said it clean: “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.” Shakespeare dressed it up in iambic pentameter, but here in Cook County we know the translation. Nobody is coming to save you. The moon and the stars don’t give a damn whether you sink or swim.
Studs Terkel would have called it the gospel of the working stiff. The guy in the steel mill with the punch clock, the nurse with the double shift or the kid hustling his way through night school to get a law degree. All of them writing their own story, one tired morning after another. No horoscope ever paid the rent.
Mike Royko, God bless him, he would laugh at the notion that fate was going to bail you out. He would point at the guy bellyaching at the end of the bar and say, “Buddy, if you’re waiting on destiny, you’re already late for work.”
Same went for the trading pits. The opening bell brought the floor to attention, and it wasn’t fate buying the lows or selling the highs. Luck never built a destiny. The ones who walked out with their wallet still in their pocket were the ones who went the distance and stayed consistent, day after day, until the closing bell.
Call it Shakespearean or call it Chicago common sense...
... you own your choices. You build your life.
The stars on Armitage are just orangey streetlights overhead.
It is going to be a gorgeous Taco Tuesday and it happens to be National Guacamole Day. Complete your day with some tortilla chips and a deep bowl of gwak!
