haviorally based and receives far less public attention and fundingrnthan AIDS.rnPick also justified the incredibly promiscuous and risky sexualrnbehavior of the 1970’s that led directly to AIDS by quotingrna Chicago bar owner named Art Johnston, who “acknowledgedrnthat the eadv bar scene, redolent with sex, led inexorablyrnto the scourge of AIDS. But he sees the time as having itsrnvirtues: ‘Sure we had our excesses, but the sex was more thanrnjust physical acts. We were a minority, coming out and beingrnone with our own. The sex was as political as the black athleternstanding at the Olympics in Mexico City (in 1968) with his fistrnin the air.'” Nowhere in Pick’s report did anyone question thernwisdom of regarding sex of any kind as a “political act”—rnparticularly the kind that results in the epidemic spread of arnkiller disease.rnThe pattern was repeated almost three months later, whenrnthe Tribune lionized the April 25, 1993, Gay Rights March onrnWashington. “Gays take fight for dignity to D.C.,” blared thernbanner front-page headline. Reporter Fhnn McRoberts beganrnhis story, “Bleary-eyed from a fitful night’s sleep aboard arncrowded bus, Jana Johnson was still ready to seize the day. ‘Thisrnis my time, a time for me to get recognized as a human beingrnjust like any other,’ said the 23-vear-old college student fromrnChicago, one of a group of 45 gavs and lesbians . . . for them,rnSunday will be the first opportunity to fight for dignit)’ on suchrna grand scale. For them, Sunday will be their chance to makerntheir voices heard.” McRoberts described another female studentrn”proudly sporting her ‘Dyke,’ ‘Baby Butch’ and ‘Out Is In’rnbuttons” and quoted a third student as saying that his father,rn”a lifelong Republican, voted for Clinton . . . because of the gayrnrights issue.” The Republican National Convention,rnMcRoberts informed us, “with its diatribes against the gayrnand lesbian community, clinched his father’s vote.” Nowherernin McRoberts’ story were there any differing opinions of thernmarch—or of the Republican Convention, for that matter.rnThen there was the flap over Colorado’s Amendment Two,rnpassed by a small majority of that state’s voters at the same timernthey were giving a plurality to Clinton, to amend the state constitutionrnso as to disallow so-called “anti-discrimination” ordinancesrnwith regard to sexual orientation. Interest in this storvrnamong most Chicagoans was, to put it mildly, fleeting at best,rnbut the Tribune spent more than a year making a federal casernout of it, often on the front page. “Gays consider Coloradornbocott,” trumpeted a page one headline a fev’ days after thernelection. Two weeks later came another front-pager headlinedrn”Colorado paying for anti-gay stance,” warning darkly ofrncanceled conventions and ski trips. Then came 1993, with notrnonly the same numbers of conventioneers and skiers as before,rnbut also 4.5 million baseball fans storming Mile High Stadiumrnto watch the Colorado Rockies; about 375,000 religious pilgrimsrnand curiositv-seekers flooding into Dencr to sec PopernJohn Paul II; and, yes, tens of thousands of Rush Limbaugh fansrnjamming Fort Collins for “Dan’s Bake Sale”—thus makingrnthe busy-body editors of the Chicago Tribune look quite foolish.rnThe editors did not take the hint. After a Colorado staternjudge ruled Amendment Two unconstitutional in December,rnthe Tribune promptly responded on its editorial page withrnwhat can only be described as a hysterical shriek in praise of thernimperial judiciary and its ability to negate the yvishes of the voters.rn”A setback for intolerance,” bellowed the headline abovernthe editorial. Asserting fatuously that “one of the latest politicalrnfads is limiting the rights of homosexuals,” the Tribune contemptuouslyrndeclared that “getting the approval of the votersrnis one thing and getting the approval of the judiciary is another.”rnThe amendment, we were informed, “targets one historicallyrnmistreated class of people and says that they alone—of allrnthe potential groups in society—may not be shielded againstrndiscrimination . . . whatever the ruling’s fate in the realm of jurisprudence,rnit ought to make Coloradans rethink a polic’ thatrncan only be viewed as bigoted and intolerant.”rnWhatever happened to the view that under the Americanrnsystem of government and jurisprudence rights inhere in individuals,rnnot “groups” or “classes”? What about those votersrnwho are not convinced that homosexuals have, in fact, beenrnsufficiently “victimized” to require special legal protection?rnAnd what about those who are simply weary of being continuallyrnassaulted in the public arena b- a tiny minority aggressivelyrnflaunting behavior that most people consider to be a vicernand attempting to cloak it in the robes of virtue? No answerrnfrom the Chicago Tribune. “Whether anti-gay rights measuresrnare bad law will hae to be decided bv the courts,” its editorialrnconcluded. “That they are bad policy ought to be clearrnto all.” Translation: cither you see things our way, or you arernevil. Just the kind of attitude, in other words, that the Tribunernthinks everyone had at the Republican National Convention.rnAs the whole country knows by noyy, Chicago’s CongressmanrnDan Rostcnkowski, the previously almighty chairmanrnof the House Ways and Means Committee, found himself inrnthe flght of his political life in Illinois’ March 15 primary elections.rnThe House Post Office scandal and other “appearancesrnof impropriety” had left Rosty in such desperate straits that twornweeks before the election—on a day when American warplanesrnwere flying over Bosnia—President Clinton made arnspecial trip to Chicago to beg the Democrats of Illinois’ 5 thrnCongressional District to send Rosty back to Washington forrnthe 19th straight time. In the end, they did, giving him justrnover half the votes in a five-man race—after a crack rescuernsquad headed by a former fllinois state senator close to the Da-rnIcys spent over a month administering CPR to what otherwisernmight well have become Chicago’s newest and biggest politicalrncorpse. As one of the ex-state senator’s underlings braggedrnafter the votes were counted, “I don’t think we have seen anythingrnlike it since the late Mayor Daley was alive . . . every singlernpolitical contact, e’er single friendship, every single effortrnwas used to bring out the vote for Danny.”rnOne of the most enthusiastic friends of Danny this timernaround was the Chicago Tribune—the very same Chicago Tribunernthat used to hold the old Democratic “Machine” of thernfirst Mayor Daley and Dan Rostcnkowski at arm’s length. ThernTribune even went so far as to complain in its editorial endorsementrnthat the inestigation of Rostcnkowski “was taintedrnby a publieity-hungrv (Republican) prosecutor who seemed intentrnon indicting the high-powered chairman of the Ways andrnMeans Committee in the press if he couldn’t get him indictedrnby a grand jury.” The investigation, the Tribune sniffed, hadrnobscured Rosty’s “extraordinary accomplishments and considerablerninfluence.” “If the voters chew him up and spit himrnout,” the editorial warned, “they lose the person who is far andrnaway their most reliable source for the federal dollars thatrnbuild and repair their bridges and roads, that erect their affordablernhousing, that put many Illinoisans to work. . . . He isrnin the very top reaches of Wishington influence, and he v’ieldsrnit with relish and savvy on behalf of the people of his district.rnOCTOBER 1994/25rnrnrn