With all the Cubs hoopla going down in Chicagoland lately, it’s only natural for thoughts to turn to … cremation. At least, that’s how Eric Zorn feels today in his Trib column. Know that song “Go Cubs Go” that the Wrigley faithful sing after every victory? You should by now; a welcome change from the past two years, they actually had a winning record at home this season. Zorn spins the tale of Steve Goodman, composer of the aforementioned, WGN-anointed celebration song. The musician succumbed to leukemia in 1984, mere days before the Cubs played their first playoff game since 1945.

As outlined in another Goodman song, “A Dying Cubs Fan’s Last Request,” he imagined his cremated remains, or “cremains” (a portmanteau we always found a little too cute, like “beefalo”) scattered over Wrigley Field’s left-field wall onto Waveland. When asked, however, Cubs officials put the kibosh on the request.

Whatever for? Cubs media relations director Peter Chase states they examine requests “case by case.” If the case for a guy who wrote a song 40,000 fans sing in unison isn’t strong enough, then what is? Considering cremains are the result of a 2,000°F burning process, they’re about as sterile as can be, so health hazards don’t enter into it. The spooky factor’s a bit different, but it’s meant as a gesture of honor towards the deceased, not to jinx the place. Goodman’s brother David still got the job done four years later, but he had to pull several strings, with the cremains taking root mostly on the left-field warning track. Now that you know, please try not to spill your beer there. Respect for the dead and all.

All this got us thinking about where in Chicago we'd have our ashes scattered. Montrose Harbor? The lagoon behind MSI where Clarence Darrow hangs out? Or Lincoln Park (fits in with the whole “this used to be a giant cemetery” theme)? Where would your cremains be spread?

Image courtesy of Artamnesia.