MARILYN'S SKIRTS NOW FLY HIGH OVER CHICAGO

There she looms.... taller than virtually any other statute in Chicago.... with the exception of the iconic Picasso in the Civic Center.... our very own shimmering white Marilyn Monroe....her skirt famously fluttering over curious Michigan Avenue gazers.... women with a touch of curiosity, men with a dash of concupiscence.

Personally and hormonally, I always liked Marilyn. One of the last Hollywood icons who was not proud to be anorexic. But her dazzling presence here re-ignite the question: What do we Americans deem iconic?

First of all, you have to be dead. As in the case of Jesse James, Billy the Kid, Lincoln, Capone, Ruth, FDR, Marilyn, JFK, Elvis, Lennon, Liz, and the next Rocker to die in a backroom fury of drugs. That's a peculiar list, you say...? Well, we're a peculiar people. Thugs and thieves get idolized right along with leaders and luminaries. We especially like them when they exit in a surprise blaze of mystery or violence. [There was a guilty smile when we heard one of Marilyn's press agents mutter: "Great career move, babe..."].

Desire has to be a large part of why we deem some people iconic. The inscrutable desire to have been someone so free, so wild, so strong, so beautiful, so different than the ordinary whose crown most of us wear submissively day in and day out. One easy way to test this premise is to sit in the stands of a sports stadium, and study how everyday submission suddenly erupts into sociopathic hysteria. From painting one's bellied-body in order to tribally identify with the hero on the field, to screaming obscenities whenever the hero falls short, stadium hysteria reigns supreme. If only Freud had spent more time in bleachers, he would never have needed a couch.

Lately, though, the computer has started to take the place of flesh-and-blood icons. Consider the computerized creatures Hollywood, Television, Stephen King, and JK Rowling have given us. And now, icon-fans, now we can create and carry the little buggers wherever we go with such computer video games like the bloody new "Shadow Cities." I watched it demonstrated and was mightily impressed. But if I have to choose an icon, it will still be something like a Marilyn and not like a City.

Sorry, Mom, I know how you mistrusted blonds....!