Chicago's Mayor Daley basically takes no shit from anybody, at all, ever. And gives every indication that he does exactly as he pleases.

Weirdly, doing exactly as he pleases means declaring today to be Frankie Knuckles Day in Chicago. Frankie Knuckles moved to Chicago around 1977 and began DJing at the famed, gay, black disco The Warehouse on the West side of the loop. The street that runs next to the site of the former Warehouse has been declared to be Frankie Knuckles Way, earning it a little, brown sign that sits underneath the real sign.

It's hard to imagine what sort of political gain that could accrue to Daley...the gay, black, disco vote? Uh, no. He just did it.

Just as people the world over know Chicago as the birthplace of electrified blues, they know us as the birthplace of House. The Chicago record store Dusty Groove is always full of folks (okay Guys, it's a guy thing) of many nations, seeking the real deal, the house sounds.

I needed a note from my boss, I was going to leave all my stuff here at work, come back after tonight's DJ set in the south loop. I began to explain to my boss, an accountant, why I needed after hours access and launched into an explanation of what House music was.

"I know what House music is!" she said, startling me just as much as if she had said, "I like a little bondage, now and again."

It turns out back in the day, she worked for a small accounting firm which, in turn, did the books for The Warehouse.

"They need accounting too," she said, pleased at her unexpected role in a seminal point of a musical genre.

A friend and I went to see Frankie Knuckles spin. He had the final evening in Chicago's Summer Dance program, which I have blogged on and on about earlier so I won't bother again. Oh my goodness but that is a talented gentleman.

Knuckles, wearing a white cap (Knuckles still creases his bill, keeping it old school) with a "K N" in rhinestones in front rocked tonight's DJ set. He's almost as old as my dad which means one long-ass time lining up beats which I suppose explains why he didn't bother putting on any headphones to match beats until about 2 hours into his set.

The evening had it all-casual acquaintences hugging me as if we had survived mortar fire, queeny guys with enormous fans, a bouquet of helium balloons along with a friendly guy who explained that a dear friend of his had passed away after a 20-year battle with AIDS and that the balloons were here since the friend couldn't be and of course beats, beats, beats.

You know how there are some boring parts in most DJ sets? Tonight was not like that.