Sick Day [SotCISoaJ]

I am sick.

I hate being sick. It feels like my body is rebelling against itself. I feel like I’m regressing to a younger age; back to a time when I was winy and helpless. I am usually very healthy. Not that I take good care of myself, but I very rarely get sick. So when it does happen, I’m reduced to a quivering mass of phlegm and other unmentionables.

The other night, I wavered between a death-like sleep and a fitful weakness brought on by fever. I swung back and forth between chilly and sweaty; conscious and unconscious; stiff and numb. The next morning, with most of the illness baked out of me, I regained some of my composure. But I still wasn’t well enough to make another trip to Chicago. I had an assignment up there. Well not really an assignment, but a possibility of one. If the photography gods were smiling on me, and the municipal workers were fast enough, I could take pictures of the holiday decorations. But instead I spent part of the weekend in a semi-coherent state.

Sure, I was disappointed, but I suppose I can take one weekend off from thinking about work. I wouldn’t do very well if I wasn’t healthy. And I need to take care of myself by sleeping and what-not. But I sure would have liked to see Chicago in the winter time again. The lights are beautiful against the gray sky and the snow. Although there’s probably no snow yet.

As of now, I am through the haze of fever. But my nose is still leaking and my head is still pounding and my cough is still rasping. Perhaps this just means I’ll be able to make the trip in a few weeks. Maybe by then my pictures will be full of lights glistening off of freshly fallen snow.

Graduation

I graduated today. I walked down the theater aisle, up the stairs and across the stage. It took me six years to do this. Six years to get the gown and cap and tassel. Six long years.

Honestly, I walked to make my mom happy. She told me she spent enough of time and money to see me walk, and so I figured I owed her. My heart wasn't really in it at first, but sometime between the alphabetizing and the opening statements, I looked around the hallways and was hit by a flood of memories. I spent hundreds of hours speeding through those hallways in between classes, up to the library, out for a quick lunch. I never had enough time to look around and take everything in until I was stuck in line, steaming inside a black, rayon gown with a stupid hat on my head. I looked at my fellow students . . . excuse me . . . graduates and was flooded with hope for the future and nostalgia for the past. That's not me. I'm fairly grumpy and irritable. I am not nostalgic. But today I was. And it felt good--really good.

Chris Matthews was the commencement speaker. His words really helped--made me think about what I want to be. I'm not always an optimist, but now I think I am for this aspect of my life. He spoke truth. He told us the road to our future will be difficult. We will need to work hard to get to that next step. I think I am finally ready for the next step. This is not normal for me to say, but I think I've changed a little bit. I've gone through this amazingly difficult six years for the better. And I'm excited to see what's next.

Safety in the City (Sense of the City column)

The snow melted overnight. One day the temperature was just above freezing, the next it was warm enough to not wear my coat anymore. The humidity hovers somewhere around 100%. The sky is hazy with a mixture of pollution and fog which switches to rain in a second. I have never been a fan of wetness, but it is nice to walk around in a comfortable temperature.

I should be writing this at home. I started my spring break last night and was on my way to White Heath. But through a series of unfortunate events I missed the bus. At the time I was angry, but thinking back on it the story is actually pretty good. (It involves late night road construction and a midnight run through Union Station where I lost my sandwich.) I probably would have written this column on it if a much more interesting story didn't happen to me on the way home.

Needles to say, I am not the only one out enjoying the warmer weather. Crime goes up in the spring and summer months. It's just a fact of life, more people means more potential to steal. And no one, not even criminals, wants to be out in sub-zero temperatures.

I got on the train to go home. I sat down next to a well dressed man. He wore a button down shirt and black leather shoes with gold buckles. I didn't notice at the time, but something was wrong. Some chemical in his brain was off, whether through drugs or insanity I'm not sure. But he ranted at the top of his lungs. His unidentifiable grumbling boomed through the train car. Every once in a while this primitive language was peppered with the most foul and X-rated bits of clarity. I was almost home so I tried to ignore it. I stared down at the floor.

This is where I wanted to leave this story, but some 20-something fohawk didn't. He tried to engage the man as some stupid joke, some story he could tell his buddies back at the bar. Soon the conversation devolved into threats on the young guy's life, but he didn't understand what was going on and still tried to push through.

Some how the ranting man thought the other guy said he was part of the Black P Stone gang, which is a smallish multiracial gang in Chicago. They actually control a pretty large chunk near my apartment. It took me a second to realize what the man was saying. But when I did, I turned to the younger guy and told him to shut up. "You don't know what you just did," I said.

Nothing happened, but I had never been so afraid in the city. Clearly the man was dangerous and on top of that he was not in his right mind. There is no way to know what he could have done. But luckily nothing happened. He left the train.

What this says about the safety of the city is interesting. I've been here almost four years. I've seen some crazy things on the train and on the street. I've had some crazy things happen to me. I could tell some stories. But this is the first time I've felt so uncomfortable. Most of the time, the city runs just fine. The population goes on with their day without thinking of safety. No one should take this story to mean that the city is so intensely dangerous that they don't visit. It is just a warning to watch out. Be careful of your surroundings. Basically . . . be safe.

Memory by Fire

The air is cold and filled with falling snow. The sidewalk is slippery with ice and trampled snow. It's still winter. We're running through the tail end of the season all across the country. The days are getting longer and the nights shorter. The snow is thawing and freezing, thawing and freezing, starting the death throes that will turn March into April and winter into spring.

Thoughts run through my mind as I walk home one night. My stare is low, towards the ice patch in front of me. My step is careful. I walk by an old church made of boulders big enough for a Trebuchet to siege a castle. I guess I only assume it's old, because of the building material. It doesn't much matter, I like walking by to look at the rocks.

I go by carefully when I smell a smell that takes me back. It wasn't a sudden memory, it snuck up on me gradually. Before I knew it I was transferred back to my childhood. My memory was deep and vivid. I was not thinking about my childhood, I was in my childhood. I was sitting next to the woodburning stove at the farm in the cold winters of the past. The air was freezing but the fire was too hot. I rotated to keep an even warmth, too long in one position and half my body would be burnt and the other half too cold. The sight and sound were strictly from when I was young, but the strongest sense for me was the smell. It was the smell that warped me back in time. It was the smell that bridged the gap between the present and past. It was the salty, smoky smell of a fire burning in the stone church.

I came back to the current and shuffled through the ice field safely. I continued on home a little brighter, a little happier, my smile a little larger. My trip reminded me of what was and what will be and what I have now.

My Unoriginal Title is "Epic Burger, not so Epic"

Cross one burger of Time Out Chicago's Chicago Magazine's(did I dream this wonderful list?) 100 best burgers. I treated myself to Epic Burger for lunch and did not find it worthy of top 100. Really it should only be on such a list because the writer could only find 90-some burgers in the city. Then it'd be fine with me to have some duplicities.

Epic Burger can't decided what it is, is it a nice burger place with chef's who take time to prepare the meat right, or is it a fast food joint with plastic chairs. It took me two seconds to order and 10 minutes to get. (Ten minutes might be a bit of an over exaggeration, but it was long enough for me to notice.)

They say their buns are baked daily. I do appreciate a burger place respecting the bun, but I don't think the bun's are well enough prepared. It was still a bit gluten-y and bland. It tasted like a normal grocery store bun with oats sprinkled on top. The meat was pretty tasty, but hard to find under the "special sauce," my guess is mayonnaise mixed with paprika for color. A good burger is flavored by it's own sauce, it should not be hidden.

Maybe I bought the wrong burger. Maybe I was led astray by all the options. It just wasn't that good. And if it was on this mysterious "list" it should be redacted. Is that too harsh?

Silver Sears Tower

The Sun-Times reported that the owners of the Sears Tower are thinking about recovering it with reflective stainless steal in this mornings paper. The article made it seem like this was a fairly sure bet. but the Chicago Triune wrote up an article online calling the Sun-Times out.

"The Sun-Times story puts the bill for the silver makeover at $50 million and (deep down in the story) quotes an anonymous source familiar with the tower as saying: 'Right now there's not enough money in the universe for that.'"

The idea behind the new Sears Tower skin is to save money and be more green. The Tribune doesn't seem to think so. They even go as far as to link back to the original Sun-Times article in, what I think looks like, an attempt to show the Sun-Times Spotty reporting.

The article is a bit misleading. It does sound like the owners are considering the change, but I don't think that means the Tribune should so blatantly call the Sun-Times out. Or maybe it does. As I write this I'm beginning to wain. Misleading articles and half-truths should be outed so people think twice about doing it themselves. Shotty journalism does hurt everyone. I don't know. Discuss.

Here are the two articles in question:
Sun-Times
Tribune

The Battle of the Bureaucracy

For the last month or so I have been working hard to get my Magazine, New Stone Circle (everyone should go look at it), not-for-profit status. It is really hard to move through the crap--file this here, give this place $50, mail this 500 page report here. It's a lot of bureaucracy to move through. I wouldn't have even started if it wasn't for this website I got from the nice people at CHIRP (you should go there, too).

I thought maybe I should keep track of my escapades with my blog. Unfortunately, now I'm almost done. I hope. But if anyone is looking into making that sort of company, you should definitely look at this website. It is a tremendous help. There are a few things missing. Nothing I didn't figure out by completing the step before, but it was a little unnerving to not know something was coming up.

I still can't shake the feeling that I am doing something completely wrong. I'm afraid that I'm accidentally creating like a hundred cooperations I will have to pay taxes on. Or maybe I'm hiring illegal immigrants in a sting operation I am unaware of.

Let's hope none of that is true.

So far all I have left to do is apply for tax exemption. I'll let you know what becomes of it. Hopefully I'll be done soon and will then be able to move onto more important things.

Well that didn't take long . . .

Forget my old post saying Chicagoans are walking around happy. Our dear fearless leader Gov. Rod Blagojevich ruined that right quick. Here is the Chicago Tribune's covearge (Keep in mind, Blago tried to get the editorial board fired so they have a bit of a bone to pick with him. Not that any of this is a lie. Just keep it in mind.)

Any good-will collected by my city, from the last election, has been broken by our Gubernatorial foul mouth. Sure it's sad to see our state become the butt of so many jokes, but what I find most insulting is that our elected official sounds like a 10 year old just out of ear shot from his parents.

It's interesting to note, the day after the Presidential election was sunny and clear and happy. The day after the Governor's perp-walk was dingy, cold morning. Is the universe trying to tell us something? No, not at all. The weather and our political system have nothing to do with each other. It's just interesting to note.

Hell of a Day to be in Newspapers

Update: The first run of Chicago Tribune's paper yesterday was at 690,000 copies, with a rerun of 410,000 extra copies, said the Tribune. Today, they will sell more copies at convenience stores. Here's the link.

I don't think there is an unclaimed copy of the Tribune, Sun-Times or Red Eye left in the city. And I wanted to read today's paper. Ok ok and maybe I wanted to keep something as a memento.

I heard that they were selling reprinted copies downtown at the Tribune Tower. I went down and ran into this . . .

They said they were selling posters of the front page for $3 and something just came over me. Money exchanged hands and I was told there would be a 10 minute wait for the actual paper. I waited with about 50 other people inside what can only be called the Gothic Cathedral of my kind. A huge room with high ceilings and notable quotes of famous journalists written into the walls.

After a 15 or 20 minute wait a woman came in calling out that the truck was on the bridge. Her declaration met with applause. The truck rolled up and a few burly men ran in with papers in hand.

Really I just wanted to read the newspaper.

Second City Syndrome

Last night we all watched history being written. I could almost see myself telling my grandchildren what I was doing when Obama was elected President. But the intricacies of the historical context should be discussed in another blog, by another more knowledgeable person. I can only talk about what I know best: living in Chicago and feeling inadequate.

Today, November 5th, is the happiest day for Chicago. Today seems brighter, the air smells better, people are more polite. People don there Obama '08 T-Shirts and walk around smiling. I was on the bus today and people were laughing. The bus driver was joking with the passengers.

This city has always been talkative. Chicago is a Midwestern sensibility with a large population. Strangers will always tell you what they do or do not like about you. But todays seemed less crabby; less of the do not and more of the do. This comes from the destruction of what is called the Second City Syndrome.

The Chicago contradiction is that we think the Midwest consists of only Chicago, but we think we are always second best. "Where Chicago goes, Illinois goes," probably should be our mantra. But we will never meet the expectations of a New York or a San Fransisco.

This is how we Chicagoans think, but our minds are changing. Last night we saw the countries newest President Elect give his acceptance speech in our backyard. We saw our beautiful city on TV sets across the world. Obama is a person who cut his political teeth helping make the South Side a better place to live and he calls Chicago his home.

Chicago has always been on the map, but now it is in our minds. Now we can see what a wonderful city it really is.