On a wall at the corner of Ashland and Julian in the “Is this still Wicker Park?” northern section of Wicker Park, there’s a remnant sign from an art exhibit I didn’t think was very good. » Read the rest of this entry «
March 5th, 2014 § permalink
My cousin in NOLA is posting pictures of her family at Mardi Gras.
That’s real Mardi Gras for real New Orleanians, not the drunken beads and boobs fest of many a college road trip movie. She, the husband and the two little kidlings all in costume (they went as the four elements) wandering the streets, watching floats and generally being genuine, full-time natives of their community.
Meanwhile, I missed Paczki Day. » Read the rest of this entry «
March 3rd, 2014 § permalink
I took a shot of vodka from a Cold War-era Russian intercontinental ballistic missile.
I watched a sexy C3PO grind on a leisure suit Chewbacca.
And I got “the highest of fives” from one of the faux Medieval warriors from that throne-game show I’ve never seen.
Because it was the Chiditarod and these sorts of thing happens there. » Read the rest of this entry «
February 28th, 2014 § permalink
Another night, another ‘L’ stop. People huddled under the three heat lamps like so many fast food chicken sandwiches. A few more huddled by the entrance to the platform, hoping the grate stairwell blocks the licking wind. » Read the rest of this entry «
February 26th, 2014 § permalink
It’s cold. So I’m going in.
In isn’t just inside. It’s the 21st-century condition. “In” is in a room in an apartment, motionless, staring at a screen and occasionally thinking I thought something. » Read the rest of this entry «
February 24th, 2014 § permalink
Between the dentists and the dogs, Ulan had been having a busy weekend. » Read the rest of this entry «
February 21st, 2014 § permalink
Last week, I auditioned for the 25th Annual Chicago’s Biggest Liar Contest. I didn’t make it (alas), but I still had a great time and everyone should go see the show on May 3.
But, since I didn’t make it, that frees me up to share my amazing lie, which involves local commercials, ferns, the phrase “super-glottal” and the village of Stickney, Ill. » Read the rest of this entry «
February 19th, 2014 § permalink
What would I tell the people who just let themselves in the garden apartment a few doors down from mine? What would I say if they asked why I was standing in the cold on an unshoveled sidewalk, staring at their house?
“A killer lived here,” is what I would say, the only thing I could. “Her name was Wanda. And I want to know everything about her.” » Read the rest of this entry «
February 17th, 2014 § permalink
February 14th, 2014 § permalink
I leaned back on the love seat, hands behind my head, stretching a bit and closing my eyes to focus on the Elvis playing softly overhead. By the second-floor bar, under whiskey barrel decorations, hurling clubs and other Irishana, a waitress standing by a plate of cheese fiddled with her phone as I prepared to tell two people that I met Batman. » Read the rest of this entry «