Sunday, August 30, 2015

Bears! Bears! Bears!!

There have been three pre-season games for my team, the Chicago Bears.  Here is what I have gleaned from the little attention I've been paying:

1.  Pre-season play is foolhardy! How many players have been injured in these three games, including Jimmy Clausen, the second string quarterback.  (Insert sigh of relief here:  he did not suffer a concussion.)  Also injured in this game were cornerback Tracy Porter, defensive tackle Jeremiah Ratliff, nose tackle Eddie Goldman, and running back Senorise Perry.  How is any of this okay?  Just have lots and lots of practices -- hard practices on the actual field against the practice team -- but don't risk the season for games that don't count.  Injuries that count and can affect someone's future are not worth sustaining in pre-season play.

2.  Jay Cutler is not just a non-top-tier QB he really dances below the middle tier and down around the bottom.  He is not going to improve enough to be a top-tier QB; I say play Jimmy Clausen, assuming he's okay after yesterday's injury, and let Jay sit on the bench and think about what he did.

3.  Ever since Mrs. Jay Cutler spoke this summer and said that she and Jay didn't think of Chicago as home, Jay seems to be trying to be more personable and available.  As much as he can be personable and available and still be Jay, that is.  Too late, pal.  Everyone heard it, everyone processed it, and everyone will remember it.  If you didn't stink so much as a quarterback, people might be a little more forgiving.  If you didn't ingest so much of what Saturday Night Live once referred to as "the first whipped topping for cats," people might be willing to think of just the season.  I am thinking of the season -- the season that comes after he's no longer the Bears first-string QB.

4.  Head coach John Fox seems sane and reasonable, determined and focused.  I don't think that will change.

As I write this, I wonder why I still care about this.  I just care.  I do.   The end.




Sunday, August 23, 2015

Vacay, y'all!

In preparation for my vacation in 2 weeks and 2 days, I am taking a vacation today.

Do you miss me?  Nah, probably not.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Happy Anniversary

I began writing this post on August 2, 2011.  I consider the time I've spent thinking about it, writing it, and rewriting it to be time well spent.  In fact, I didn't realize it had been four years; it felt like two years.  That makes no sense since it took almost a year to write She Is Where.

I began working at my present job on August 15, 1995.  The cumulative time went by like a shot but that's what happens when you're not a young person.  Time might seem to drag on a daily basis and yet you can almost watch the clock whirring forward.  I will not be getting these 20 years back.

That's as much philosophy as you're getting from me today except toe say that the Bears are back and those years Jay has been the quarterback?  We fans of the Chicago Bears won't be getting those back either.

So I close by telling you what I've been saying at work, "It's my anniversoire."  (Yeah, I know it's not a word.)

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Not as good as he thinks he looks

Yesterday I went downtown to take a tap class.  I left at the usual time but didn't count on the addition of tourists being on the train, not acting right, standing in everyone's way and they were not the worst thing about the train ride.  There was this one guy...

Everyone knows someone like this one guy.  He has decided that he is going to have a beautiful body.  He is going to go to the gym every day.  No matter where he is or what he's doing, he will get to the gym.  He is focused.  He is determined.  He is one of the most ignorant and selfish people around.

He has to be able to have a drink -- something like Monster or Red Bull -- and he has to have it as he rides the train.  He has to have his phone in his hand in case someone tries to contact him.  It might be important and he believes he's an important guy.  He wears the briefest of sleeveless t-shirts to show off his body.  He stands in such a way as to pose and also cut off the space of at least two other people trying to stand on the train.

But then there is the closer inspection.  His nails are super raggedy.  It looks like he might bite them but like he also doesn't scrub them to get them really clean, like maybe he had his hands in dirt or something worse and he didn't care enough to make them tidy.  The train jostles; he shifts.  He hasn't taken a shower and his B.O. is extreme, like he's spent eight hours doing something energetic (probably with strangers) and doesn't respect those he travels with enough to give himself a perfunctory rinse.

Yeah, I fought my way to the center of the car to get away from him.  There was actual room in the center and everyone there seemed to have considerately had a shower before climbing on board.

My advice to the handsome, the perfect, the gym wise and stench foolish:  You are the one(s) we laugh at when we see you.  You are focusing on an external that is anything but perfect.  Scrub your hands!  Give yourself a rinse before you go to the gym and then have better shower after!  And work on that personality because we all know it's just like poo.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Denied!

Exciting!  Inviting!  But not for me...
Lollapalooza is the summer blockbuster of summer blockbuster music festivals in a city where you can't swing a bag of festering garbage without hitting a music festival.  Riotfest!  Pitchfork!  Some other fests that just don't come to mind!  They are three-day music festivals like Lollapalooza but they just are not Lolla.  Yeah, we call it Lolla because no one has time for saying it every single time.

Look at the Lolla acts closing each night this year.  Sir Paul McCartney -- in case you've been dead for 50 years, he was in an ineffectual band called The Beatles, a group that did nothing except change Rock and Roll (and there are those who say almost ruined it but that's a different discussion); Metallica -- one of the greatest heavy metal bands of all time; Florence and the Machine -- this year's biggest of the new stars. 

I work in the multipurpose building that is called the Olgilvie Transportation Center.  It's multipurpose because there are offices, restaurants, shops, and a big ass train station.  I went downstairs at 11 and the lobby was filled with loud, young Lolla attendees, just arrived on some suburban train or other.  They dressed alike, pretty much looked alike (i.e. young), and were all beautiful, even the unattractive ones.  Excitement rippled through the air because they're young and haven't learned to curb their enthusiasm down many decibels.  (My friend, Michael, goes to Lolla every year but he is not demonstrably enthusiastic.  He's just very happy to be going but he is an adult.)  After lunch, I didn't give it much thought.

After work, I walked from my office in the Olgivie Transportation Center to the Brown Line with a coworker.  She got on the El and I continued down to Michigan Avenue and then thought, oh, what the hell, maybe I can score some free swag, and walked down to Lollapalooza.

When I got to Lollapalooza, they would not let me in.  CAN YOU IMAGINE!?  I AM AN ADULT!  I AM MOSTLY WELL BEHAVED!  I AM AN ADULT!  AM I TOO OLD?  TOO UNATTRACTIVE?  "You don't have a ticket," they said. 

Oh.  That.

I sent a text to Michael about not being let in and he replied, "BITCHIZZZZ!"

All the swag people had closed up at 5pm so the only swag I scored was a box of water.  It was 90ยบ and the water (in a carton) was nice and wet.  My ultimate reward:  I walked over 2 miles and found my favorite place to buy a lottery ticket was still open.  I haven't checked my numbers yet but I am pretty sure that I won't be quitting my job this week to follow the Sir Paul Tour.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

The artists/tourists visit the post office

I went to the post office one day after work last week to see if I had mail in my box.  I do this almost every day and the results of late are the same:  No mail as Alvin, our carrier, will be out for five months and they haven't hired someone to fill his spot in his absence.  There is the same disappointment as the day before.

This day was different.  There were tourists taking pictures on the letter box side of the post office.  They were excitedly taking pictures of everything -- the boxes, the counters, the light fixtures, the granite floors -- and they were pleased as punch to be able to get these pictures.  From my pictures you can't tell, but there were at least 10 of them.  No, I didn't think they were a terror cell because a terror cell would not draw this much attention to themselves and members of a cell probably don't giggle and let their voices get so high pitched.  They would take a picture and then race in front of the other and take a picture of that person taking a picture and back and forth but always moving forward.  At times they took pictures of each other stopped and from behind.  It was like some weird photographic ballet.  Of course, I joined in the action.

They didn't even notice me taking their pictures.  They liked taking pictures of each other from behind.  They liked making noise and conversed happily in a mystery language.  (Seriously.  I have no clue. It wasn't French, Spanish, Japanese, any of the Chinese dialects, Russian, Portuguese, Italian, or German.)  Their photographic ballet was thrilling to them.  They were so very pleased to be there.  When I stopped to put away my phone, one of the building guards had come over and was barking at them to stop taking pictures, that taking pictures in that facility were not allowed.  (News to me, but I didn't look up or acknowledge this interaction.  I go there every day.)

Next, everyone, including me, moved outside and there was much excitement about Flamingo.  I even offered my services to take a picture of three of them together with Flamingo behind but not before I managed to snap off one more picture of someone taking a picture of her friend and Flamingo.

It's been very slow at work so this was a most exciting five minutes!

"I can't believe I am seeing this for myself!"
"Make like you're going somewhere."

"Act casual."

"What is this large woman doing over my right shoulder?"

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Sports made better

Last week I saw two of my oldest and dearest friends.  We talked about many things and when the topic turned to sports, one of them said, "After you've gotten into hockey, does anything really compare?"  It's true.  For skill, speed, seemingly-impossible shots, and amazing accuracy, nothing beats hockey.

Football is a snooze in comparison.  It takes at least three dull hours to play a game of football, with or without commercial interruptions.  Snorting, pushing men who are snorting on and pushing other snorting, pushing men, one thin man with a very good kicking leg, and one guy who can hypothetically throw with great accuracy.  (I say hypothetically because a certain Bears QB has talent that is only hypothetical.)  "Wasn't that game exciting?"  No, it probably wasn't as it took so long for anything to happen.  This doesn't mean I now dislike it, so forget about that.

Basketball is a bunch of really tall men running back and forth on a wooden court.  They are all so tall that they practically reach up and put the ball into the middle of the net.  Want to pep up bastketball?  No one can be above 6 feet tall.  That'd make it way more exciting.

Baseball?  As my Work Boo says, "Oh my lord Jesus."  Baseball is so slow they can take a commercial break and nothing is missed at all.

NASCAR is still not a sport.  It's a bunch of guys in cars in way too much of a hurry.  I see that anytime I drive on a Chicago thoroughfare.  If NASCAR is a sport, then why isn't ballroom dancing a sport?  It involves more athleticism and skill.

Yes, yes, soccer is two 45-minute sets of nonstop action but this is America and you know we just don't appreciate that kind of strength and ability yet.  It's football if American football weren't what it's become which is big men throwing balls and stopping balls and knocking down other big men.  You're big men.  We get it.  (But I still don't dislike it.)

Hockey's all excitement and action and fast guys on slick surfaces and a tiny hard rubber disc that can literally put out your teeth or take out an eye.  It's athletic and aerobic and graceful and forceful and improbable and highly unlikely but, damn, the puck went in!  I cannot make it better.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Insert frowny face here

Patrick Sharp, #10, left wing on the Chicago Blackhawks has been traded.  "NOOOOOO!" I shouted.  Patrick Sharp is not just a terrific hockey player but really seems like a pleasant, well spoken fellow.  And dear god in heaven, that is a handsome man.

In the words of Wikipedia, the NHL salary cap is the total amount of money that National Hockey League teams are allowed to pay their players. It is a "hard" cap, meaning there are no exemptions (and so no luxury tax penalties are required).  Patrick Sharp, while a great player, was the remaining player considered less-than-tippety-top elite who was putting the Blackhawks over their cap limit.  And classy as ever, and I am paraphrasing, he said it was an honor to play for the Blackhawks and to help win three Stanley Cups championships but it was time to go to Dallas and do that.

Honestly, I thought he would announce he is retiring and will be staying here in Chicago to work in hockey broadcasting.  I am surprised he hasn't already.  This proves that I know a whole lot of nothing.

Who will the Blackhawks ever get that looks that good in his post-season-we're-not-shaving beard?  That is the challenge and I think those of us who like Blackhawks hockey and Patrick Sharp know it might be impossible.

I ♥︎ Patrick Sharp.  I wish him and his wife and two daughters all sorts of well.

AND THIS JUST IN:  Further proof of Patrick Sharp's greatness, below please find the words from the full-page ad he took out in today's Chicago Tribune.

THANK YOU, CHICAGO

I arrived in Chicago in 2005, not knowing the journey that the Blackhawks would take me on over the next 10 years. This team gave me an opportunity to play, to grow and become the person I am today. I will always be grateful for the time I spent here.

Winning the Stanley Cup was a dream come true; winning it three times with three different groups of teammates, coaches and trainers, was the ultimate privilege as a player. I feel an overwhelming sense of pride when I look back on all that we’ve accomplished together.

Thank you to Rocky Wirtz, John McDonugh, Stan Bowman and the entire Blackhawks family for allowing me to be part of a world class organization on and off the ice. Thank you to the fans for embracing me as a player and as accepting me as a part of Chicago.

This city has meant so much to me and my family: Three Stanley Cup victories. The birth of Madelyn Grace and Sadie Ellen. Endless memories from the fans, my friends and teammates. For the Sharp family, Chicago has become home.

Thank you,

Patrick, Abby, Madelyn and Sadie Sharp


Sunday, July 5, 2015

And why not?

The most American of holidays is Independence Day, July 4th.  The other most American is Thanksgiving, the 4th Thursday in November.  Thanksgiving is taken so very seriously that most stores are closed, except for a few hours of grocery stores, K-Mart, and, in the evening hours in the Chicago area, Carson Pirie Scott.  It ushers in the Christmas season.  Independence Day is not given the same reverence.  July 4th is a day devoted to some pretty good shopping , outdoor grilling, and the chance to spend a lot of money on illegal fireworks then set them off until about 1 a.m. on July 5th.

Let's talk about the shopping.

The more conservative members of the Supreme Court of the United States like to talk about what the framers of the Constitution meant when they wrote put it together.  They allowed slavery, dudes, so their credibility is shot right there.  I have a hard time believing the framers would go along with a corporation being a person.  I doubt they would agree with Scalia's "jiggery-pokery" assessment of the healthcare act because people deserve to be healthy and as an advertisement from my youth said, "When you've got your health, you've got everything."  Good health = happiness, so it's part of the whole pursuit of happiness thing. 

The more conservative members of the Supreme Court and Congress and those running for President don't address Independence Day as the day it should be -- one for honest reflection on how great it is to have freedom, to be able to be anything in no matter how humble your beginnings, to know that the Patriot Act is going to go away and we will not feel like we were Big-Brotherized.  The liberals don't talk about it either.  Sometimes the liberals are conservatives in disguise, more Republican and crazy than their conservative counterparts, which makes them more dangerous; you think they're one thing but they turn out to have an agenda about schools or city infrastructure that makes them look like they are all the same.

So back to the shopping.  All state, federal, and municipal service are shut down for the day.  There is no mail delivery and you can't get a library book.  You can, however, go to the outlet mall by the airport and find a $10 shirt for 25% off then another 20% off that as you have a coupon.  You can find 20 people on line to get into the Tory Burch outlet store and the Coach outlet store and the Gucci outlet store, but I honestly think they are non-US citizens.  Tiffany is open to sell its fine products (say what you want about Tiffany, the customer service there is always stellar) as is every other store at any other mall.

I don't think the framers would understand a need to have an extra 40% off the cost of already reduced black flats but I don't understand how the Declaration of Independence didn't apply to slaves.  Still, maybe we can take this day and have an honest discussion or simple reflection about what it means to be an American, not paying taxes to a far-off sovereign who wants our goods, resources, and money but doesn't wish we be represented in his government.  Independence Day, the 4th of July, can be the day we all reflect on what America means to each of us.  I bet those flats will still be on sale on the 5th or are further reduced on the 11th.  I bet I will still not understand how they could allow slavery.  Seriously, SOTUS conservatives, explain that one.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

What would YOU do?

Courtesy of NBC, NHL, Chicago Blackhawks, and my TV
The Chicago Blackhawks WON, beating the Tampa Bay Lightning in Game 6.  YAY BLACKHAWKS YAY!

The Cup has been making its way around the city, turning up at restaurants and bars with the various players and going to Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Sharp's house for a team lunch on their rooftop deck.  There are Twitter Stanley Cup trackers and if you happen to go to the place where the Cup is visiting, you can touch the Cup and get your picture taken with it.  Most people are excited about the Stanley Cup and I am happen to report I am one of them. 

(We had a fire drill this past week and our building facilities manager ended the drill lecture by saying, "Be safe.  Go Hawks.")

Two million people came to the parade; the city doubled the length of the parade route to accommodate all the people they realized were going to attend.  There were 61,000 free tickets for Soldiers Field and Jumbotrons set up outside of it but they ended up letting in as many people as the fire marshalls would allow which made for a very exciting time for the Blackhawks and for the fans.  (Our mayor, Rahm Emanuel, was booed at his introduction.  Amen.  But they didn't boo Governor Bruce Rahner?  He deserves it just as much or more with his Sarah-Palin-One-of-the-People style of "talkin'".  He's a billionaire who still puts ads on TV to try to keep his opponents in the Illinois House and Senate down.)

Each member of the organization is allowed to have the Stanley Cup for 24 hours.  What would you do if you had it for 24 hours? 

For me, it would depend on my life situation, but right now I am thinking a romantic cruise for the me and the Stanley Cup, from Copenhagen to Oslo.  (Me, the Cup, and its two minders, that is.)  The Stanley Cup and I would wake up in Oslo Fjord.  We would have breakfast.  Then we'd go to see Edvard Munch's painting, "The Scream."  There would be a lunch featuring fish.  I'd cry when they took him away.

Or else I'd take him on the 56 Milwaukee bus.  That'd make the riders smile, I think.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Fingers crossed for the Stanley Cup

Maybe I am putting my puck into the net too soon but Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks!!!

GO CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS!

I have NOT been buying a t-shirt or a hoodie or a sweatshirt or an official NHL Duncan Keith jersey.  I WANT all of those things but if I buy one and they lose I will feel terrible so I hold my breath and talk to myself, saying, "Please, oh, please."

One more time I say Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks Blackhawks!!!

GO CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS!

Game 6 tomorrow night, the Hawks are leading the Tampa Bay Lightning 3-2 in a best of 7 series.

GO CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS!  And just so we're clear, I hope they win.  Going to a 7th game would make me all jittery and if they lost I would be so very upset.

Sunday, June 7, 2015

The wait's over

American Pharoah raced into the record books when he won the Belmont Stakes yesterday, earning racing's Triple Crown for himself.  What a stud!  No, seriously.  That piece of horseflesh is now worth anywhere between $20 - $100 million dollars.  For the right price, a few fillies will get to spend adult time with him and they will have his children and win big racing money and on and on.  There will be no pre-nup and he will not be paying child support.  Animals!  Whatever.

I know nothing about horseracing but it was very cool to see him cross the finish line ahead of his competitors.  The 37-year wait for a horse to win the Triple Crown is over!  His trainer was happy, his jockey was happy, I imagine his owner was bust-a-gut happy, and I was happy for them.

American Pharoah, smiling in victory.  Courtesy of Fox Sports.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

The Stanley Cup

For the third time in six seasons, the Blackhawks are in the Stanley Cup Finals.  GO HAWKS!!!

I HOPE THEY WIN!!!  GO HAWKS!!!

It almost embarrasses me to admit that I have a hard time watching games.  Baseball, football, hockey, it matters not -- if it's too exciting and my team still loses, I get very upset.  I don't like being upset so I just await the outcome while doing something else.  Then I can be delighted or horrified at the result but I won't be devasted and sad.

Here is the Stanley Cup with some fans: 
Photo courtesy of ??  Who knew Lord Vader and a Stormtrooper were fans?


















I said it before and I say it again:  GO HAWKS!!!

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Two examples of "Wha'?"



And where is this wonderful thing?  Not in Vienna, nor Munich, nor Berlin.   It's in rural Minnesota.   I think the late Freddy Mercury would approve.  I certainly do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Sup indeed
I went out yesterday in the late afternoon, driving down the alley from my garage to the street, and I spied the plastic Santa.  I thought it was great and had to have a picture.  This fine man came from out of nowhere and asked in an Eastern European accent if I wanted the plastic fellow.  I said, "No, but I want his picture."  He said, "Will you take my picture with it?"  "Sure!" I said with great enthusiasm.  He crouched down and put his arm around Jolly Ole St. Nick, I turned on the flash as I was shooting into the sun, and click!  I only had to take one picture and I am very proud of it.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

IGN

I recall the notion of good ideas for the blog earlier in the week.  I foolishly didn't make note of them and so today I GOT NOTHING.

In celebration of IGN, I am going to go out and do errands.

Remember:  La vida es rica; la vida es llena.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

What If?

I must like to make myself insane because the Bulls and the Blackhawks are in postseason playoff situations and I am excited!  I know better than to be excited as I don't like to get my heart broken but to maybe have two winning teams is a thrill.

The reason why I don't like to watch sports, especially in person, is because I start caring and become emotionally invested in what's happening and if the team for which I am rooting loses, then I take it personally, like they did it to me on purpose.  I am trying to be aloof about my feelings for the Blackhawks and the Bulls in this winning situation but it's difficult because, well, what if?

One of my work friends posed this question at work on Friday: "What if the Bulls and the Bears go all the way?  The city would have two parades!  There would be two rallies for the winning teams!  Wouldn't that be great if that happened?"

Yes, it would be.  My mind boggles with how happy sports fans -- and others -- would be.  It's a thrill.  When the White Sox won the World Series in 2008, there was an awesome parade and I got to throw confetti out the window of my workplace (we were in a building with small windows that tipped open just enough for me to put my arm out and let loose with crap).  The crowd was huge and I'll never forget the roar of the crowd when they turned from Jackson onto LaSalle.  It was thunderous, excited, thrilling, and divine.  When the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup in 2010  for the first time since 1961, there was a huge parade and my work friend and I went behind the building to take in the parade.  Not many people knew the route went there so we got to stand right at the curb and had a very good view.  In 2013, lots of people found out about this spot on Washington, just west of the railroad overpass, and my work friend and I and everyone else in our office decided to stay away.  The same route was filled with parade goers by 10 a.m. but it was still cool and wonderful. 

I imagine a basketball series where we get past LeBron James and the Cavs then on to the next series.  I imagine the Blackhawks going all the way through to the conference finals -- which start on Tuesday or as late as May 17 -- and then on to the Stanley Cup finals.  I imagine two parades -- although who is going to pay for that? -- and the Art Institute putting a basketball jersey on one lion and a hockey helmet on the other.  I imagine the Lyric Opera congratulating both teams on their signs.  I imagine smiling because it would be such a lovely thing for sports fans and the city.  I imagine laughing because I can't believe it and I am so happy.

What if?  I would be delighted and maybe you would be, too.  Go Bulls!  Go Hawks!

Sunday, May 3, 2015

It came and traffic stopped

It took a week to get Draft Town in place and it proved to be every bit the clusterfuck that I'd imagined.  Entire bus routes were rerouted because of massive street closings.  Traffic was at a virtual standstill in many parts of downtown because of said rerouted buses, many more pedestrians, a glut of cars, a stronger police presence, the previously mentioned closed streets, and Draft Town itself.  Of course I had to go and check it out.

DRAFT TOWN:  Where the weak do not get autographs or anywhere near the Lombardi Trophy
Draft Town was free to get in.  A coworker was as curious as me, so we decided to go together.  There were things we wanted to see and just walk around and check it out.  We were there for 90 minutes which covered it all for us.  Almost everything was free:  Oikos was giving away yogurt,  Verizon was giving away $5 food vouchers (which we gave to a family), Bears players -- current and retired -- were at the autograph tent, with no charge for a signature.  There were massive crowds for the autograph tent.  There were massive crowds for the Bears tent.  There was a one-hour line to get next to the Lombardi Trophy (as everyone in the line wanted a picture with it).  There were running challenges, jumping challenges, and a place where you put on a special suit and helmet and then flew up into the air.  Lines, lines, lines for everything.  A line to get a wristband to get your picture taken and have your chosen current or former football player superimposed with you and a line to get the picture.  The main massive huge tent was set up east-to-west which was totally blinding as the sun came down.  I have good sunglasses and found it annoying and painful.  It also made photography difficult.  Now that I've been, I don't need to ever go again.

So I have suggestions for the NFL and the City of Chicago if Draft Town is coming here next year:

1.  Do not set up the main tent east-to-west.  Make it north-to-south so that people are not blinded.  The first two days it's held from 4pm to 10pm. What happens in Chicago from 4pm to about 7pm?  The sun starts going down, making photography and vision difficult.

2.  If you put a tent over a major thoroughfare, there will be median strips with which to contend.  Maybe put up your own signage in addition to the regular street signage already there.

3.  Put the team tents in the front to make them more easily accessible.  They didn't have as many crowds as the autograph tent, so it would help with general traffic flow.

4.  Put the autograph tent in the back.  There are always lines for autographs so take the crowds for that away from where people (1) enter, (2) get beer, (3) are trying to get positioned to watch the draft which is also in front.

5.  Have more free crap.  If they are going to participate, make sure they're giving away something to the attendees. Screwdrivers with a hotel logo, for example, would be much appreciated.  "Greetings from Draft Town" courtesy of Courtyard by Marriott Hotels, the chosen hotel of the NFL.  How much could that be?  It all comes from China anyway, so it can't be all that much for the hotel chain and the NFL to split.

6.  Don't make it so people's livelihoods are challenged because of it.  The American Rhythm Center, where I take tap classes, is across the street from Draft Town.  Because of the terribly screwed up traffic, they cancelled classes for three days.  ARC is only one of the places giving classes in that building so multiply it by several.  That's effed up.

7.  Find another location for Draft Town in a city that isn't this one.  Draft Town on the former grounds of the Michigan State Fair at Eight Mile Road and Woodward in Detroit might bring some needed dollars to that community, people could drive to get there, they don't need to charge for parking, and they could erect some temporary Draft Temple for the NFL general managers and owners that would be appropriately opulent for their draft duties.   I could totally get behind that.

But then, they don't ever ask me.

Because of Draft Town, people had to make a concerted effort to get to Buckingham Fountain.  I exited, let some tourists finish their thing plus took pictures of them with their cameras, and then I took a panorama with a smaller-than-usual crowd.  It was honestly the best thing I saw all night.

Panorama of Buckingham Fountain at about 6:30pm on April 30

Post-BF, I found my coworker had made friends with these two officers who smiled nicely for me


Sunday, April 26, 2015

It's coming and cannot be stopped

Yeah, yeah, the clusterfuck that is the NFL Draft is coming to my town next week, taking place at the Auditorium Theatre with a fan experience being created a few blocks away.  Called "Draft Town," it will feature Buckingham Fountain changing colors to that of whatever team just made a draft pick.  Traffic is being rerouted and temporary buildings are going up in the middle of Grant Park (and a few streets).  What a spectacle!  What sensational drama!  Who the hell is paying for this shit?

When this is all over, I don't want to hear how the NFL -- one of the most successful conglomerates in the world -- made Chicago pay for any of it, like when we found out just earlier in 2015 that Chicago itself paid out money for the Olympic bid when Mayor Daley swore it was being paid for with private contributions.  (Yes, he sucked so hard at the end of his many terms.)  If they're rerouting buses, if police have to work extra shifts, if Buckingham Fountain changes freaking colors, then the NFL should pay for it, and a little extra for the inconvenience, thanks.

I say this like a sourpuss who will be giving it a wide berth.  On the contrary, I am going first thing on Saturday morning.  I am going to capture the stuff and, as my sister said to me, I can take pictures of people taking pictures at Draft Town.  Team memorabilia on display; a large ass temporary building; football-fan tourists paying their respects at the Temporary Temple of the National Football League and doing what the NFL likes best which is spending money on any NFL related; Buckingham Fountain all colorful and cool (which I suppose is why the draft is mostly in the evening, so you can actually see the colors).  I am hoping there is free crap because I love free crap (stolen motto:  "If it's free, it's for me.").  Of course the taking pictures of people doing just that is my goal.  My fear:  A picture of me taking a picture of someone taking a picture turning up somewhere and just look ghastly wide from that angle.

Go Bears!

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Stalking

Regular readers of this blog will remember that I love to take pictures of people taking pictures.  It fascinates me.  If I can get the photographer, what he's photographing, and the image on the screen of his camera, then it's heaven for me.  Even just the photographer raising his hands and aiming and me from behind and to the side so I can get him and maybe what he's trying to capture is also great.  It occurs to me that I might be out of control.

This week was a lovely week here with good weather and many sunny afternoons.  I went to Federal Plaza when I could -- there were demonstrations, one of which made the police cut off major sections of the Loop so they could control the crowd with out the impediment of cars -- and a couple of days there were people capturing each other by Flamingo, the huge outdoor sculpture by American sculptor Alexander Calder (I always thought he was Belgian so I am a big stupid and let's move on).  When the weather is mostly  good -- and it's Chicago, so let's agree it's lousy seven months out of the year -- I cut between the post office and Kluczynski Federal Building to get to the Blue Line entrance.  From this vantage point I can see people taking pictures.

But do I have my iPhone or iPod Touch out, ready to take pictures?  Hardly.  I am walking along thinking, "Buddy, at that angle, your wife's gonna be a little dot next to this giant sculpture," or "Really?  How much of that sculpture do you think is gonna be in the selfie with the five other people?"  Screw me, I then think, they're having fun.  I am almost upon them when it occurs to me I need to take out my device.  They have, of course, dispersed by the time I get close to them.

This week I came around the corner of Kluczynski Federal Building to go get a lottery ticket at my favorite place, and there was a man with a DSLR.  He seemed to know what he was doing and was taking pictures from different angles.  This was probably my sole opportunity to take a picture for the rest of the day.  I took out my iPhone -- no simple thing as my iPhone holder is a Zip-Loc plastic bag (don't judge; it makes me happy) -- and I raised it to take a picture.  Just then he stopped and decided to go another way.  I am not proud of this, I acted like I was fascinated by the Garrett's popcorn story that's kittycorner from this spot while he made more decisive moves.  He took some shots; I took a picture of him.  He whipped around and looked and me and I had already returned to the mode of "is-that-light-red?'  He approached the corner and had to wait for the red light, taking some pictures as he waited and I got another.  I beat feet through the green light because he was probably on to me.

You will be pleased to know that the light was in his favor and both pictures aren't as good as most of my efforts.  I won't say that I will swear off stalking photographers but it might be better for me to stick to what I know -- sidling up to the unsuspecting and stealing their image while they're thinking about something else.
My prey