Say a prayer: Part of Chicago trinity now covered in thorns

Once upon a time, the good people of a great land named Chicago were happy and content if their leaders did three things:

• Picked up the garbage on time every week.

• Cleared the snow off of the side streets in winter.

• Got them where they needed to go by bus or by train.

For decades, garbage, snow and transit were the Father, Son and Holy Spirit of city hall services in Chicago.

And for what seems eternity, Chicago has been the city that works when it comes to providing that Holy Trinity.

As we head to Thanksgiving 2007, the trash is still hauled away on time. Aldermen make sure of it. Indeed, most members of the city council also still practice the time-honored tradition of one-man one-can one-vote by making certain that every constituent has a nice 55-gallon two-wheeler in the alley.

As for snow removal, Al Gore's Scorched Earth Inc. has wiped out all but a few big snowfalls every now and then, so keeping the streets clear is seldom a problem. You know Mayor Daley will always throw out as much money, manpower, salt and equipment to get rid of the snow, regardless of its depth, as fast as possible.

No mayor wants to risk dislodging Mike Bilandic from his place in Chicago folklore. In 1979, Bilandic was voted out of office after trying to convince city dwellers that he had delivered on the No. 2 staple of city life, when he hadn't.

That brings us to No. 3. The buses and trains. Make no mistake … they are the brightest jewel in the triple crown worn by the emperor of city hall. If the garbage doesn't get picked up, it just stinks for a while. If the snow doesn't get cleared, it'll eventually melt.

But if people can't get to work on the CTA trains and buses, or they quit because it suddenly costs them twice as much to get there, who do you think is going to be most affected? It is the employers who will suffer. It is the executives of big companies who will be angry. They can't make money without employees. And if they can't make money, they won't donate money to political campaigns.

That is why the pacifist role taken by Mayor Daley all year is so puzzling. While the mayor has been keeping his eyes on the Olympics and on where the jingle of the first city slot machines will be heard, Chicago's transit system was being given last rites.

A few weeks ago, as the CTA was on its death bed, it was those great spirits serving us in Springfield who blessed the transit agency with a scheme that amounted to a cancer patient borrowing against their life insurance policy. It bought the CTA health until last weekend.

Then, late last week, with the CTA again about to flatline, there was an infusion of $27 million. That should keep the patient alive through the end of this year.

And who is taking credit for being the savior of Chicago's Holiest Grail?

"There's good news for riders," said the Rev. Gov. Rod Blagojevich, as if he was preaching the Good News.

Blagojevich, whose personal idea of mass transportation is to ride with three bodyguards in the car instead of two, gave his flock the blessing they so richly wanted. "We are excited about the fact that the money we are providing directly to the CTA and the RTA is money that will keep operations going at current levels well beyond the Christmas holidays," said the governor, hallowed be his name.

At the time, back in Chicago, Mayor Daley was in an important meeting with International Olympic Committee President Jacques Rogge regarding the city's efforts to win the 2106 Summer Olympics.

"Mr. Mayor, to judge by your eloquence, you don't have to train anymore," Rogge said to Mayor Daley, but I don't think he was referring to CTA trains which should still be running in 2016.

The looming CTA Armageddon did not go totally unnoticed in the mayor's office. After all, Mr. Daley had sent his most trusted disciple Ron Huberman to Springfield to evangelize about the CTA that Huberman leads.

"Forgive me, governor, for we have sinned," Huberman could almost be heard to say, with his head bowed and Blagojevich's hand on his scalp.

Then, as Huberman tried to deliver Daley from the political evil that a transit doomsday would bring, he promised to do the penance for both of them. "Springfield has said we want to see the CTA tighten its belt, and tighten its belt we will," vowed Huberman, who is paid $197,000 a year.

Confession may be fine for the soul but it's always a short-term fix, good only until the next sin. It is a short-term fix just like casinos, the Olympics … and absolution from Springfield.

This is especially true when it comes to the Rev. Gov. Rod Blagojevich. He may forgive debts … but don't expect him to forget them.