R.I.P. PIGEON MAN OF LINCOLN SQUARE

Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.

We here in Chicago lost a little known, but much beloved figure of local lore, the "Pigeon Man of Lincoln Square".

Now, I fully realize that the above image may horrify people, especially those prone to hatin' on pigeons, and although I am no fan of the dirty birds (especially after having been pooped on by them on more than one occasion - hey, that's good luck, right?) this kind, gentle man made me appreciate their presence.

Furthermore, I came to appreciate the presence of this sight, on my way home from work, on my way to the train or whenever I may have crossed his and his friend's tracks. Although he was a sworn enemy of many shop owners, I never minded, nor did the police.

He routinely fed pigeons in clear sight of "No Feeding Pigeons, $500 Fine" signs, symbolically sticking out his middle digit, as if to say "$500? Fuck you!" [Ed. General Nuisance Ordinances are routinely passed and rarely if ever enforced] That's simply the best kind of bad ass I can fathom (maybe).

But there is much more to the story, some of which I will directly quote, from the man himself:

"Soon as I take a seat, they want to be loved and kissed like a mama's baby," he says, taking a seat late one recent afternoon, as a raincloud of pigeons alights from a roof and hovers in for a landing. "Like I'm their father, and they're my child."

Awwww! You have to have a heart of stone not to appreciate his humanity. Still not convinced?

"I'm really advertising to the public how easy it is to be good without an attitude; it's just as easy to show decency as it is to hate today."

There is more to his back story that I won't attempt to take credit for; if you happen to be intrigued about this locally-legendary character, read this article.

Now on to the sad part of the story. Today I was eating lunch and reading the Tribune when I came across this tiny article buried in the Metro section. Just yesterday, he was walking down the street when he was fatally hit by a car.

Initially, I was overwhelmed by sadness, although that feeling slowly ebbed when I realized that this wonderful person is now at peace, presumably feeding birds from above and looking down from above on Lincoln Square.

Not much of a Holiday story, I realize, but one that rings true to me. Joesph Zeman, you will be missed...