"It's been a rough life, alright? Grow up on a nice little patch of ground, surrounded by your buddies, only to be uprooted, tossed onto the back of a truck, and sent off to sit in a huge cardboard box outside a supermarket waiting for someone to take you someplace warm. But it's okay, really, I'll get by. Say, can you be a pal and pour me a stiff drink?"
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Carving at Chris and Anita's
"It's been a rough life, alright? Grow up on a nice little patch of ground, surrounded by your buddies, only to be uprooted, tossed onto the back of a truck, and sent off to sit in a huge cardboard box outside a supermarket waiting for someone to take you someplace warm. But it's okay, really, I'll get by. Say, can you be a pal and pour me a stiff drink?"
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Chicago sports
Let me be the first and perhaps the only one to say it: We are living in the midst of a charmed time for Chicago sports. I mean, when I consider the droughts our various teams have had, and then look around at my group of friends largely born in the early 70's, it is fair to say that we have not suffered through the years of sports disappointment that our parents and grandparents have endured. The Bears, Bulls, and now Sox have come out on top, giving us a solid team to root for in the 80's, 90's, and 00's. So if the theory I'm building here is correct...Blackhawks in the teens and Cubs in the 20's? Or is that optimistic? And yes, I know I am ignoring the Chicago Fire soccer team, who have also been winners in the past decade, but they lack the historical context of our other franchises. Anyway, Cubs fans, don't give up hope. Your decade is coming. GO SOX!
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Hum
The scene: Michele acquires some passes to Rockfest, a free all-day show down in Champaign culminating in a reunion set by local heros Hum.
M comes down from Green Bay and Saturday morning we hit the road for Chambana; I passed through town a few years ago but otherwise haven't really been back since leaving in 1996.
We make good time and decide to go get lunch. Off to the Courier in Urbana we go, the food there is okay but they make the best milkshake in town. I'm a sucker for good desserts. Eavesdrop on a conversation at the next table about the definition of dusk. Yeah, that's college; debating the meaningless with big words.
Drive through campus (Green street is worse, more commercially in-your face and devoid of character than the last time), and ditch the car near a park in the vicinity of "downtown", about two blocks from one of my old apartments. Take a stroll, no particular hurry; drop into Jane Addams used bookstore. I am relieved to see that it hasn't changed a bit; M keeps asking me about nostalgia and yes, I admit I am nostalgic for places like this. As we progress through downtown, I am surprised as much by what is gone as I am the places that have survived; restaurants and coffee shops that opened when I was in school are still here, but the bars have all pretty much moved or been re-christened.
We swing by the festival and see that there isn't much of a crowd yet, so continue walking around. Eventually end up at Cafe Kopi for coffee and kill an hour doing a crossword puzzle.
So, the opening bands: Missed The Boat Drunks; saw a little bit of Whiskey Daredevils (blah), Liquid Soul is a rock-funk outfit from Chicago, they were decent but had a less than ideal crowd for their participatory style; American Minor made an attempt to recreate the grunge protion of the Singles soundtrack and failed; and Shooter Jennings is a country group with no sense of irony that played too long and collectively needs to bathe.
But we came there for Hum, and they were worth the trip. It was a decent mix of material, a little heavy on the later stuff but they played it with vigour. There were a few people in the crowd that I would like to have decapitated, obnoxious drunks and a few too many who thought they were at a campfire sing-a-long.
Ran into John F at the end, rescued M from some guys hawking some nonsense, and hit the road.
M comes down from Green Bay and Saturday morning we hit the road for Chambana; I passed through town a few years ago but otherwise haven't really been back since leaving in 1996.
We make good time and decide to go get lunch. Off to the Courier in Urbana we go, the food there is okay but they make the best milkshake in town. I'm a sucker for good desserts. Eavesdrop on a conversation at the next table about the definition of dusk. Yeah, that's college; debating the meaningless with big words.
Drive through campus (Green street is worse, more commercially in-your face and devoid of character than the last time), and ditch the car near a park in the vicinity of "downtown", about two blocks from one of my old apartments. Take a stroll, no particular hurry; drop into Jane Addams used bookstore. I am relieved to see that it hasn't changed a bit; M keeps asking me about nostalgia and yes, I admit I am nostalgic for places like this. As we progress through downtown, I am surprised as much by what is gone as I am the places that have survived; restaurants and coffee shops that opened when I was in school are still here, but the bars have all pretty much moved or been re-christened.
We swing by the festival and see that there isn't much of a crowd yet, so continue walking around. Eventually end up at Cafe Kopi for coffee and kill an hour doing a crossword puzzle.
So, the opening bands: Missed The Boat Drunks; saw a little bit of Whiskey Daredevils (blah), Liquid Soul is a rock-funk outfit from Chicago, they were decent but had a less than ideal crowd for their participatory style; American Minor made an attempt to recreate the grunge protion of the Singles soundtrack and failed; and Shooter Jennings is a country group with no sense of irony that played too long and collectively needs to bathe.
But we came there for Hum, and they were worth the trip. It was a decent mix of material, a little heavy on the later stuff but they played it with vigour. There were a few people in the crowd that I would like to have decapitated, obnoxious drunks and a few too many who thought they were at a campfire sing-a-long.
Ran into John F at the end, rescued M from some guys hawking some nonsense, and hit the road.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
!vOrTeX! 09.05
In creeping crawlspaces we lay in wait, taking sustenance from tree roots that penetrate the foundation. Our hands are rainbow paint guns, fingertips stained permanently; the police took our prints and were highly amused. As if on cue, he was late, not for the last time; and the second hand sweeps like a windshield wiper, keeping time in a twenty-one tick tape loop, we see what we want to see and then we see it again. Climbing, can't get a toe-hold in the chain link fence, dogs getting closer, moving away, slipping down, climbing.
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