#796: To the Breakfast-Eaters

May 29th, 2017 § permalink

Her hair was as radioactively blue as the pile of berries on her pancakes was red.

She sat at a table for four alone at the bustling Andersonville breakfast spot. She smiled wan but warm at the server when he brought her the massive pile of pancakes, whipped cream, berry compote and streusel crumbs.

Then she delicately picked up a fork with her right hand and, as a slow, peaceful smile lit on her face, she picked at the pile of warmth and fluff. She picked at a book with her left. » Read the rest of this entry «

#795: The ‘Donate to These Guys’ List

May 26th, 2017 § permalink

As with everyone who cares about journalism, the community, free speech or good governance, the last few months have been the emotional equivalent of a bodyslam from a U.S. congressional candidate.

It’s the world we live in. So let’s get off our rears this three-day weekend and direct some resources to some of the folks trying to make that world a better one. » Read the rest of this entry «

#794: Night at the Museum

May 24th, 2017 § permalink

My ankle started to hurt, an old-man trait inherited from my dad’s side of the family, so I took a seat between the photo of the world’s first Ferris wheel and the old Chicago Times guide to the tribes you could gawk at.

The historian was still talking. » Read the rest of this entry «

#793: Morning at the Field

May 22nd, 2017 § permalink

It was the quiet time at the Field Museum of Natural History, the first few minutes after the 9 a.m. opening on a gray, murky Sunday. » Read the rest of this entry «

#792: M-I-Z-

May 19th, 2017 § permalink

He was one of the people paid, for whatever reason, to sit on a folding chair outside of a car wash.

He was old and middle-age fat. Not obese, just a spare tire that wouldn’t go anywhere even if he tried to do anything about it, which he hadn’t.

But it wasn’t his girth that attracted me, nor his close-cropped buzz, nor the fact I was a few seconds from finding out he was one of the last holders of a North Side Chicago accent.

It was the fact he was decked head to toe in my college colors did. » Read the rest of this entry «

#791: How We Live Now

May 17th, 2017 § permalink

This is it, right? This is how we live?

We live in sunsets now, and warm nights of sushi and wine on patios. We live in texts from friends letting us know of impromptu get-togethers after.

That’s it, right? Life’s like this forever now? » Read the rest of this entry «

#790: In the Newsroom

May 15th, 2017 § permalink

I’m typing now. Everyone is.

A sales guy in the corner is chattering away. Two of the production guys were hushed-toning it about a color separation detail, but that got resolved and they walked away from each other.

Now it’s just you, me and the clicking and clacking of a dozen keyboards. » Read the rest of this entry «

#789: Cram

May 12th, 2017 § permalink

Rod Balgovijic went to prison for six and a half… fourteen… life?

Richard L. Daily was the first mayor of the city, known as the Boss on Five.

Do I talk about the Omnibus Boodlers, or just start with Kinky Dink?

Oh wow, I have to be a tour guide again. » Read the rest of this entry «

#788: Native Water

May 10th, 2017 § permalink

I can’t in good faith pretend the story I want to tell about Chicago today is in Chicago.

I can’t pretend I’m that parochial or have that much dedicated bandwidth to focus solely on the municipal jurisdiction that provides my garbage pickup and blog title.

I can’t pretend my thoughts aren’t focused on a president who fired the head of the agency investigating his cronies, of media blackouts at the highest levels, of threats against comedians and criminal charges for laughing at the attorney general, of whatever atrocity will be revealed by the time I finish this sentence.

So I went to the river. » Read the rest of this entry «

#787: A Movie House

May 8th, 2017 § permalink

By rights, it should be a chain restaurant.

That’s what the area’s best for. State Street, that great street where the only groups that can afford the ground-floor rents are multinational corporations shilling either cheap Chinese-made clothing or the finest of mass-produced sandwich meats. » Read the rest of this entry «

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