#512: An Economy of Teeth

August 5th, 2015 § permalink

Sparkles of water and, I assumed, particulate of tooth spattered out from below my field of vision, which was locked ahead on a view of sunglass-shaded light and one, two hands of blue coming at me to jab drills, mirrors, lights and hooks into the collection of holes and porcelain that was once my mouth.

I haven’t been able to go to the dentist in years. The economy wouldn’t let me.

RRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHAAAAAAHHHHHHOOOOOO went the drill, hollowing me out for the first of too many fillings. » Read the rest of this entry «

#511: Yellow and Blue

August 3rd, 2015 § permalink

“Who’s moving in?” the little old lady yelled.

“He is,” I yelled back.

“Hi,” she said, shuffling a few steps toward my friend.

Saturday was a moving day for two good friends of mine, and in the traditions of my people, I traded my weekend and my ability to walk without going “Ouch ouch ouch” for payment pizza and maybe a beer.

That’s what brought two tired, sweaty men to a tree-lined city block where the houses fly yellow and blue Ukrainian flags. » Read the rest of this entry «

#510: Chocolate and the Class War

July 31st, 2015 § permalink

Kate was young and politico-pretty, with a tidy, blue dress from a thrift store, a bit of armpit hair peeking out because equality and a copy of a book by bell hooks. Yes, I did capitalize that correctly.

Kate had graduated with a Ph.D. in Biology, but was readying herself to be an eighth-grade substitute teacher at a private school in NYC because she didn’t know what else to do. She was staying in Chicago with her sister for a few days before a big family camping trip in Michigan.

Kate was scared, a bit. She knew the students the school accepts. She knew her mouth. She was worried she would say something sarcastic about a child’s $500 shoes.

So Quinn and I told her about the chocolate. » Read the rest of this entry «

#509: Crisp and Cold

July 29th, 2015 § permalink

Crisp and cold has a smell, one you’ll never know until someone cracks open a hydrant on a hot summer day. » Read the rest of this entry «

#508: The Evidence of Leather

July 27th, 2015 § permalink

The painter was dying, and his lover struggled to find a home for his art.

“In the late 1980s when Dom [Orejudos] was getting sick with AIDS, Chuck [Renslow] was looking for a place, a museum to house his extensive art collection. Not only the murals in the auditorium, but he had hundreds and hundreds of oil paintings and pencil drawings,” said LA&M Executive Director Rick Storer. “And Chuck was not able to find a museum that would take them first, or would say ‘We can take them, but we can never put them on exhibit because of the subject matter.’”

The subject matter was key, Storer said as we sat in swivel chairs in the volunteer orientation area of the Leather Archives & Museum in a quiet residential slip of Rogers Park. Art museums wouldn’t take sadomasochistic gay erotica. » Read the rest of this entry «

#507: The Foreknowledge of U.S. Steel

July 24th, 2015 § permalink

In 1992, U.S. Steel’s South Works mill closed, putting thousands out of work and pushing South Chicago’s economic downturn into freefall.

The old man wandering through memories in a park district fieldhouse had known it was coming for 20 years.

“In 1992 it went down. RIP. Rest in… place? But really ’72 is when it started to go down,” he said. “We were probably the first guys to know that the mills were starting to go down in ’72.” » Read the rest of this entry «

#506: God’s Gabbers

July 22nd, 2015 § permalink

The three teens piled on the bus, gabby boy-men with muscle T-shirts, country accents and peach-fuzz beards.

They pushed and laughed and gaped at the machinery as two found seats a row behind me and one sat with a stranger a row ahead. They held loud discussions across me about whether the Western bus hits the Brown Line, about the best route back to the dorms where they had been staying.

“Bet you Tyler’s going to talk to her,” the two behind me fake whispered about the moderately comely blonde by their friend.

He did talk to her. About directions.

They had been given $2 each to live off for the day, so decided to make and distribute sandwiches to the homeless.

“We have enough to eat,” one of the teens said. » Read the rest of this entry «

#505: Drum Mountain

July 20th, 2015 § permalink

She tried to offer inner peace even after they deflated the Titanic.

Around her, they disassembled the south end of the fair. The tables, folded. The booth tents, retracted. The sinking cruise ship bouncy house, flattened on the ground.

Only her little table full of meditation booklets for the Dharma Drum Mountain Buddhist Association Chicago Chapter still stood south of 24th as they took down the far end of the Chinatown Summer Fair. » Read the rest of this entry «

#504: Shameless Self-Promotion Theatre Part 2

July 17th, 2015 § permalink

I spent all Thursday talking to myself, listening to my voice over and over again, snipping out ums, uhs, and aaaaah-okays with a flick of the wrist on a program called Audacity.

I would love it if you heard the results.

But it’s not that simple. » Read the rest of this entry «

#503: Three and 84 Years On

July 15th, 2015 § permalink

The front door still appears to be boarded at the mansion-turned-apartment-building that once housed King Tut’s Tomb, “Said to be the hottest spot in town,” where “Al Bentley’s King Tut Syncopating Mummies, featuring Lee Collins, the jazz cornetist from New Orleans, provide music that would make a mummy come to life.”

The Golden Lily is still a long-shuttered Harold’s Chicken Shack. » Read the rest of this entry «

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