Wet from the blattering rain outdoors, they gathered in a glowing gallery storefront to tell lies to each other. » Read the rest of this entry «
#471: The Fan
May 1st, 2015 § permalink
There’s always someone who loves baseball more than you do.
I went to Wrigley. I did the things. $8.50 beer, $5.75 hot dog, $49.50 hoodie because I misjudged the chill night breeze.
We sat and laughed and watched the Cubs lose badly, cutting out early when the game got too dire.
That’s a thing you do at Wrigley too.
Then came the man in the bathroom. » Read the rest of this entry «
#470: The French Mistake
April 29th, 2015 § permalink
The short, middle-aged woman with the sandy, close-cropped hair pulled her phone-on-a-stick closer, frowned and extended it again to take another photo at the base of the State Street bridge.
She and the equally sandy-haired man with her were getting nowhere with their selfie stick, so I offered to help.
“Merci,” she said.
The French. Again. » Read the rest of this entry «
#469: The Question
April 27th, 2015 § permalink
A student of mine asked me the question.
I get the question a lot, or have in the three years I’ve been teaching journalism. Sometimes it’s asked as a gotcha challenge, sometimes it’s just blurted out as if I had mentioned I strangle puppies for a living.
And sometimes it’s asked in a quiet tone before class by a scared junior wondering if her choice of major has been a terrible mistake.
Do I feel bad about teaching journalism? » Read the rest of this entry «
#468: Elsewhen
April 24th, 2015 § permalink
Tinged with doo-wop and a quarter-step flat on the high notes, his voice was a throwback to when black men sang falsetto.
“Somewhere over the rainbow,” his voice rang through the Red Line subway station at Grand. “Way up high.” » Read the rest of this entry «
#467: The Blue Lie
April 22nd, 2015 § permalink
Charles Henry is not a bum off the street. I know this because he told me twice.
The first time was at the Blue Line Western stop when he meandered up to the bench I had claimed for sipping coffee and eating Combos.
“Excuse me. I’m not a bum off the street,” he said, holding out a small leather clutch full of diabetes testing supplies. » Read the rest of this entry «
#466: “I’m Glad I’m Not That Guy,” by That Guy
April 20th, 2015 § permalink
She glided through the room, sidestepping happy soon-to-be diners discussing spring rolls and panang curry, past tables and plates and chairs and wall decorations saying no doubt happy things in crinkling Thai characters.
“Do you have another card?” she asked, holding my debit card out to me as if it were something very wet and cold that she no longer wanted to be touching. » Read the rest of this entry «
#465: Chocolate and Wind
April 17th, 2015 § permalink
There’s a place on Milwaukee where you have to cross two lanes of traffic uphill to get into the left-turning bike lane. » Read the rest of this entry «
#464: Kim Jong Alex
April 15th, 2015 § permalink
They call him Kim Jong Alex, sometimes the Tiny Overlord.
He takes their money and he takes their sleep. He screams at all hours and for no reason. He burbles up spit on their clothes and has made 8 p.m. a late night.
And they could not love him more.
“He is shitting himself right now,” Jake said as he bounced his son on his knee in their backyard. » Read the rest of this entry «
#463: The Greatest Show on Infinite Earths
April 13th, 2015 § permalink
Mister Terrific hoists the Green Arrow into the sky. Captain Hammer patrols the crowd, a groupie perched on the nape of his neck. A Jedi and Joker juggle as the 11th Doctor balances his sonic on the tip of his nose.
This is Acrobatica Infiniti. This is the nerd circus. » Read the rest of this entry «
