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Amid the summer’s news stories, some innocuous—Mel Gibson’s tape-recorded tirades, Lindsay Lohan’s travails and Jersey Shore’s second season—and some not, such as the leak of The Afghanistan Papers and  the oil spill in the Gulf—the proposal to build a Muslim mosque near Ground Zero in New York City bubbled up to the surface last week. I don’t believe I am alone in stating that my feelings about the Cordoba Center in Park51, the proposed name of the center, are at best ambivalent.

The man behind the construction project is Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf. He has been in TriBeCa since 1983 and has condemned the 9/11 attacks. His goal with the proposed mosque is to “bridge and heal a divide” between Muslims and other religious groups. This project is not a pipedream, since the Imam has raised $100 million and the plan includes a prayer space, a performing arts center, a swimming pool and a restaurant. Last Tuesday, the New York City's Landmarks Preservation Commission unanimously (9-0) approved the project, which is to be located two blocks north of Ground Zero.

With July 4^th behind us and the summer in full swing, one can’t help but notice the ironies—some subtle and others that smack us right in our sweat-drenched faces. First, the weather. Was it just a few months ago that we were struggling through multiple feet of snow and blizzards that came one after the other? The walk down to the end of the driveway was an odyssey, getting into a car and driving was an exercise in blood pressure management and the airports—don’t get me started—an on-time arrival or departure was as frequent as a Cubs or Orioles win this summer. Now, just a season and a half later 85 degrees in the shade is a cold snap and even dogs don’t want to go outside. Fido is more than happy just to lie on the AC vent. Label it what you will, something has pissed off Mother Nature.

The political cauldron continues to bubble as we half-heartedly gear up for the November mid-term elections. Pundits and politicians, in between vacations and the Sunday morning talk shows, are playing the newest version of What was Left is now Right.

When General Stanley McChrystal’s recent ouster brought the war in Afghanistan back onto our collective radar screens, we were reminded of President Obama’s 2011 withdrawal deadline. The irony here is not the reminder but who reminded us—the conservatives. It seems that Afghanistan is now Obama’s war and well, the right wingers are getting tired of this almost 10 year conflict. Those on the right—Ann Coulter and Michael Steele come to mind—who have previously proudly touted their National Security and Defense bona fides, are sounding a lot like those on the left 35 years ago during the Vietnam era. I’m not disagreeing with their opinions, I’m just having a little trouble figuring out who brung whom to the square dance.

President Obama delivered his first speech from the Oval Office Tuesday night and the reaction can be described, at best, as mixed. Both the right and left claimed that the President wasn’t clear or strong enough in his holding British Petroleum accountable or in his vision for America’s future energy policy. Inadvertently, the President accomplished something he hasn’t been able to do up until this point in his presidency—he united both sides of the political spectrum.

The reaction from the left is understandable, since they believe that government is tasked with solving our nation’s problems—big or small. The reaction from the right is somewhat of a conundrum though. In one breath they claim “big government” is the death of us all and in the next complain that Obama “simply isn’t doing enough.” It’s very difficult to square that circle of logic. Personally, I hope Tuesday’s night speech was the first step in overhauling our energy policy. I am sick and tired of oil.

First, to recap—pun intended. We are almost two months into the oil spill and it should be clear by now that the only solution is the drilling of relief wells. We can debate BP’s PR strategies and whether all the proper resources are being used for the clean-up, but the volcanic eruption of oil will only stop when new wells are in place and functional. This is a maddening state of affairs, but it shouldn’t be a surprise.

It is mid-June and although not officially summer, we here in Chicago have had a taste of the dog days of August, already weathering a few 90 degree days this spring and kicking our air conditioners back to life. This is nothing new, weather forecasting here is at best a crapshoot, at worst, wish fulfillment.

It’s also hockey weather, because after a National Hockey League (NHL) season that lasted longer than Brett Favre trying to make up his mind—and, after 49 years—the Stanley Cup, hockey’s Holy Grail, is back in the Windy City. The Chicago Blackhawks, after winning Game 6 in overtime on Wednesday night, are the new champions of the NHL.

First one gripe, if I may. This Stanley Cup Championship was easily one of the worst officiated sporting events I’ve watched in years. I’m not just talking about the penalties that were called, but the multitude that weren’t—on both sides. Consistency in the refereeing between games, let alone between periods, was nonexistent. I haven’t watched hockey in years, so maybe this is now the norm for the men in black and white.  If not, and if there’s anyone out there who has some pull in the NHL’s executive offices, this poor showing needs to be rectified. ‘Nuff said—I needed to get that off my chest.