And now it's Chicago's version of the running of the bulls. With Mayor Richard M.

Justice in a democratic society begins here, in voir dire, or jury selection. You and everyone else crowds into the courtroom, filling even the jury box. The judge explains the case, the two counts: basically, DUI, and driving drunk with a suspended license.

The truth is, you never try to get out of it. You think about it, you read through all the legit excuses that come on the summons, and you understand the loopholes, all the unwritten, unspoken outs, and still you go.

It's still there.With fresh flowers. With lit candles. And with warning signs -- about the police camera hanging under the concrete bridge, about possible fires. Five years ago, a water stain on the Fullerton-Kennedy underpass formed to look like what many thought was a virginal apparition.

 The waning days of summer on 75th Street mean that at 11 p.m., at midnight even, you can find this street corner scene: a teenage girl giggling, sitting on the hood of an American car, her boyfriend leaning in at 45 degrees, his arms roping around her, a luminous and joyful smile on his face.

I'm off getting married and honeymooning and all that so, in my absence, some good friends are filling in. Today's look at the Havana Libre Hotel, the former Havana Hilton, modernism's stake in the Cuban capital, comes from Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo, who resides on the island.