1,001 Chicago Afternoons

“Why do you call him Uncle Go Paul? He’s Uncle Paul because his name is Paul and he’s our uncle,” the older said to the younger.

“He’s Uncle Go Paul because we go places with him,” the younger replied.

I was touched. But not enough to get let them get a second thing of candy in the movie line. » Read the rest of this entry «

A thousand feet in the air, Frank Sinatra sings to tourists. » Read the rest of this entry «

There’s something purely Christmas about Michigan Avenue in December.

Maybe it’s the commerce, or the reckless consumption. Maybe it’s the dedication to swindling people out of their savings and shaming them for trying to choose food and shelter and maybe their kids’ education over bric-a-brac and baubles made for 12 cents in Shenzhen and sold for $12,000 in Chicago’s Disneyland of future debt. » Read the rest of this entry «

She was a Muslim woman with a pure white head covering. She crouched by the side of Saks Fifth Avenue holding up fast food cup and a cardboard sign.

In weird, blocky writing with a Sharpie, the sign started with a “Salam Aleikam.” It said she lost her job and had three children. » Read the rest of this entry «

A young man in a long coat and short-brimmed fedora stood on the sunny sidewalk, looking around while writing on a folded sheet of paper he braced with a book. He caught me peering so I made up a lie about being interested in what he was reading. » Read the rest of this entry «

On a cold, clear December afternoon where the dark makes you think it’s night until you remember to check the time, under trees festooned with pale yellow bulbs and past storefronts decked in reindeer, two cops walked in tandem past Loyola’s downtown campus. » Read the rest of this entry «

“This is worth $1,200 dollars to me because my torso is always cold but my arms are always warm,” I said, gesturing at a padded vest priced at, in fact, $1.2K. » Read the rest of this entry «

On the east side of Michigan Avenue, the Chinese-American protesters waved PRC and U.S. flags, sang songs of solidarity and held huge signs and banners declaring their outrage at Japan’s claim on the Diaoyu Islands, which they consider a breach of inviolable and sacred international borders.

On the west side of the street, the Free Tibet people held their own signs and just glared. » Read the rest of this entry «

There were two WGN news vans on Chicago and an ABC 7 around the corner on Wabash. A newscaster gave the practiced “I’m listening but reserve the right to be suspicious” face to the nervous executive-type looking down the business end of a microphone and TV camera.

“Chicken sandwiches,” a man behind me said. “How can the media care more about chicken sandwiches than people?” » Read the rest of this entry «

They juggle by the lake, the three men do. They meet when the weather’s nice and they talk and laugh and they juggle.

And they invite people in. » Read the rest of this entry «