from ESPN
(Chicagoist explains)
from Rachelle B
from Flickr
from Flickr
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Bear Down!
Wow, my heart is still pounding. The Bears must have caused at least a couple of coronaries today.
Okay, I know the rest of the country is rooting for New Orleans right now. But I live in Chicago. And the point of sports is to bond with the people in your own community. The Bears unite us. I hear strangers on the El asking each other, "You think they got a chance?" Today a group of people in Bears gear getting off the our train (probably coming back from the game) called out to Ken and me: "Go Bears!" We pumped our fists in the air and echoed it.
I can't betray my fellow Chicagoans. Just as New Orleans loves its team, Chicago loves the Bears. It is right and proper that Chicagoans should root for the home team.
So I hope New Orleans wins the Superbowl -- some other year.
To show my support for the Bears, I spent part of the day on a little art project.
It's one of the those Magic Eye images. So I apologize to those who can't see Magic Eye images. But we were shopping in a book store yesterday, and stopped to look at a couple of books of them, which inspired me to download a program for creating my own
(StereoCreator. Scroll down at that link) And then last night, Ken had a dream that we created a stereogram in which the 3D image moved. I'm sure it's been done before, but I haven't seen it, so I had to attempt it. For that I needed an animated .gif creator, so I downloaded unFREEZ.
Unfortunately, animated gifs with 28 cells are 28 times as large as normal gifs. So I cut down the number of frames and the color density to fit within Blogger's 3MB limit, and now the depth doesn't look exactly right. But still, as a first attempt...
Click on the image to enlarge and animate.
Wondering what it's supposed to be?
Click here.
I might post a few more (non-animated) stereograms if I have more homework to procrastinate on later.
UPDATE:
In the comments, Stereo DDD links to a couple of animated stereograms that outclass mine like Cary Grant outclasses Pauly Shore.
3-D staircase
3-D descent
3-D pink
The "descent" stereogram in particular is really a stunning work of art. Check out this guy's whole gallery.
Okay, I know the rest of the country is rooting for New Orleans right now. But I live in Chicago. And the point of sports is to bond with the people in your own community. The Bears unite us. I hear strangers on the El asking each other, "You think they got a chance?" Today a group of people in Bears gear getting off the our train (probably coming back from the game) called out to Ken and me: "Go Bears!" We pumped our fists in the air and echoed it.
I can't betray my fellow Chicagoans. Just as New Orleans loves its team, Chicago loves the Bears. It is right and proper that Chicagoans should root for the home team.
So I hope New Orleans wins the Superbowl -- some other year.
To show my support for the Bears, I spent part of the day on a little art project.
It's one of the those Magic Eye images. So I apologize to those who can't see Magic Eye images. But we were shopping in a book store yesterday, and stopped to look at a couple of books of them, which inspired me to download a program for creating my own
(StereoCreator. Scroll down at that link) And then last night, Ken had a dream that we created a stereogram in which the 3D image moved. I'm sure it's been done before, but I haven't seen it, so I had to attempt it. For that I needed an animated .gif creator, so I downloaded unFREEZ.
Unfortunately, animated gifs with 28 cells are 28 times as large as normal gifs. So I cut down the number of frames and the color density to fit within Blogger's 3MB limit, and now the depth doesn't look exactly right. But still, as a first attempt...
Click on the image to enlarge and animate.
Wondering what it's supposed to be?
Click here.
I might post a few more (non-animated) stereograms if I have more homework to procrastinate on later.
UPDATE:
In the comments, Stereo DDD links to a couple of animated stereograms that outclass mine like Cary Grant outclasses Pauly Shore.
3-D staircase
3-D descent
3-D pink
The "descent" stereogram in particular is really a stunning work of art. Check out this guy's whole gallery.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Bears Win
Did you see that Bears game last night? The Chicago Tribune called it a Monday Night Miracle. On national television, the Bears came back from the 20 point deficit they were looking at in the third quarter. The offense looked like amateurs and never managed more than three points in the whole game, while turning over the ball six times. But the defense and special teams proved they could win the game all by themselves. By one point. That one point lead wouldn't have been enough, of course, if the Arizona kicker hadn't missed his easy shot in the last minute of the game. Man, two and a half hours of painful, boring futility, followed by half an our of shouting ourselves hoarse, and a final minute of jumping and dancing and arm pumping. I guess American football can be as exciting as Ken says it is... And the Bears are still unbeaten.
But how does their defense do it? The Onion reveals their secret.
But how does their defense do it? The Onion reveals their secret.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Chicago: City of the Future
In "I, Robot" they had a great computer generated future skyline for Chicago, but this guy has them beat: his computer models show buildings which are actually under construction, or whose construction has been approved. Particularly stunning:
The skyline at sunset, from the lake
That central peak is the still hypothetical Fordham Spire, which appears in close up here.
Here's a daytime view of the skyline.
And another, with stronger shadows.
The view from an expensive condo building.
The view of an expensive condo building, specifically, Trump Tower, which is about eight floors high right now.
There's a lot of new construction going on in Chicago right now, much of it shown in those skylines, which I haven't identified. The city is in a sort of renassaince. Cranes everywhere. The Fordham Spire is certainly the most inspired, though. Check out these artists' impressions from the Sun Times. Breathtaking.
Close runner up is the much smaller Aqua. That's a brochure to day dream over...
Some of the new construction is sponsored by the city itself. For instance, the peerless Millennium Park. And Daley famously bulldozed an airport in the middle of the night to put another park in its place. He's been planting gardens on public land and encouraging green roofs.
And by the way, he wants to bring the Olympics to Chicago, building a temporary stadium and revitalizing the south lakefront in the process.
I believe Daley is the definition of "benevolent dictator." What can you do?
Chicago is my favorite big city, and I've been to quite a few. It's so much fun to see it grow, right before my eyes... And still retain its unique character, become even more itself. Daley is like a symbol of that. Chicagoans love him, because they love Chicago.
The skyline at sunset, from the lake
That central peak is the still hypothetical Fordham Spire, which appears in close up here.
Here's a daytime view of the skyline.
And another, with stronger shadows.
The view from an expensive condo building.
The view of an expensive condo building, specifically, Trump Tower, which is about eight floors high right now.
There's a lot of new construction going on in Chicago right now, much of it shown in those skylines, which I haven't identified. The city is in a sort of renassaince. Cranes everywhere. The Fordham Spire is certainly the most inspired, though. Check out these artists' impressions from the Sun Times. Breathtaking.
Close runner up is the much smaller Aqua. That's a brochure to day dream over...
Some of the new construction is sponsored by the city itself. For instance, the peerless Millennium Park. And Daley famously bulldozed an airport in the middle of the night to put another park in its place. He's been planting gardens on public land and encouraging green roofs.
And by the way, he wants to bring the Olympics to Chicago, building a temporary stadium and revitalizing the south lakefront in the process.
I believe Daley is the definition of "benevolent dictator." What can you do?
Chicago is my favorite big city, and I've been to quite a few. It's so much fun to see it grow, right before my eyes... And still retain its unique character, become even more itself. Daley is like a symbol of that. Chicagoans love him, because they love Chicago.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Everybody Loves the Chicago Cubs
Well, the Cubs are off to a hot 7 and 4 start, but don't worry, according to the Onion, Dusty Baker is sure they can pull out a losing record before the playoffs.
And if you like that, you should take a look at the Cubs very own satirical newspaper, The Heckler. Passed out for free outside Wrigley Field before games, it has stories like Cubs on Prior injury: Bleacher renovation on schedule, and Tribune circulation jumps 100,000 after Lee signs new deal:
Fine print reveals $65 million contract to be paid in Tribune subscriptions.
Speaking of Derek Lee, he is now the most highly paid baseball player in the city of Chicago, having passed the most expensive guy on the World Series Champion White Sox, Paul Konerko. This is fine by Cubs fans. The White Sox are no longer as desperate as we are. And Derek Lee is everybody's hero.
"When Derrek works out, the machine gets stronger."
"Lee doesn't take steroids, he's a donor."
"Derrek Lee is the reason Waldo is hiding!"
"Derrek Lee once shot down a german fighter plane by pointing his finger and yelling bang!"
"Derrek Lee can divide by zero."
And... "Superman carries a DLee lunchbox!"
From the fans at the Cubs message board.
They sound so exited, and hopeful, don't they? They can't help it. They know they're doomed, but they can't help but hope..."Wait 'til next century. No millennium can hold the Cubs." ... "Chicago Cubs fans are ninety percent scar tissue."
The Cubs don't have to win games to win these loyal fans. They play at Wrigley Field, the most beautiful ballpark in baseball. No, seriously. Look at this shot. Makes you want to move to Chicago just to go to a game, doesn't it? And calling their games are the endlessly entertaining team of Pat Hughes and Ron Santo. Listen to some clips. They don't always make sense, but that's part of the charm. Baseball itself is like that -- have you ever tried to explain it to someone who didn't know the rules? Life is like that.
We bought tickets but had to turn around a sell them, because of scheduling conflicts. But we will be buying more. And taking a friend or two from India with us, to see all that is best about America. It's going to be a great season.
And if you like that, you should take a look at the Cubs very own satirical newspaper, The Heckler. Passed out for free outside Wrigley Field before games, it has stories like Cubs on Prior injury: Bleacher renovation on schedule, and Tribune circulation jumps 100,000 after Lee signs new deal:
Fine print reveals $65 million contract to be paid in Tribune subscriptions.
Speaking of Derek Lee, he is now the most highly paid baseball player in the city of Chicago, having passed the most expensive guy on the World Series Champion White Sox, Paul Konerko. This is fine by Cubs fans. The White Sox are no longer as desperate as we are. And Derek Lee is everybody's hero.
"When Derrek works out, the machine gets stronger."
"Lee doesn't take steroids, he's a donor."
"Derrek Lee is the reason Waldo is hiding!"
"Derrek Lee once shot down a german fighter plane by pointing his finger and yelling bang!"
"Derrek Lee can divide by zero."
And... "Superman carries a DLee lunchbox!"
From the fans at the Cubs message board.
They sound so exited, and hopeful, don't they? They can't help it. They know they're doomed, but they can't help but hope..."Wait 'til next century. No millennium can hold the Cubs." ... "Chicago Cubs fans are ninety percent scar tissue."
The Cubs don't have to win games to win these loyal fans. They play at Wrigley Field, the most beautiful ballpark in baseball. No, seriously. Look at this shot. Makes you want to move to Chicago just to go to a game, doesn't it? And calling their games are the endlessly entertaining team of Pat Hughes and Ron Santo. Listen to some clips. They don't always make sense, but that's part of the charm. Baseball itself is like that -- have you ever tried to explain it to someone who didn't know the rules? Life is like that.
We bought tickets but had to turn around a sell them, because of scheduling conflicts. But we will be buying more. And taking a friend or two from India with us, to see all that is best about America. It's going to be a great season.
Friday, October 28, 2005
White Sox Win
UPDATE: I missed a link in reconstructing my post: The Baseball Almanac. Which not only tells you how long it's been since the Cubs won the World Series, but also that they were once called "The Chicago Orphans." (And the "Chicago Colts" -- which has slightly different conotations than the Houston "Colt .45s" -- and, of course, "The Chicago Whitestockings." Yes, the White Sox were also known as the White Stockings for a while, shortly after the Cubs gave up that name.)
I had a whole post written, mostly about how, Cubs fan that I am, I do not hate the White Sox. I am happy for their fans. But I'm happy in the way that I would be if a cousin of mine won the lottery, which is of course completely different from the way I'd be happy I'd be if I won the lottery.
In the text of this little essay, I tried to artfully incorporate some links to coverage of the story that I liked. But that post disappeared into the ether, and I don't have the patience to try to be artful again (not that I was so successful the first time). So I'll just list the links:
Ticker tape parade with pictures, from a Sox fan at Chicagoist.
More Chicagoist coverage with comprehensive linkage.
Ryne Sandburg, Hall of Famer and former Cub, says Cubs fans should not be bitter.
His fellow Yahoo Sports analyst Tom Verducci says the Astros' manager let his team down in more ways than one.
Blogger and University of Chicago alumnus John Scalzi says he's glad the Sox won, because Cubs fans are a bunch of Sushi-eating, latte drinking, Volvo drivingliberals yuppies, with a sense of entitlement and a fetish for losing. But there are some good responses in his comments.
Anyway, the Chicago Sun-Times says Soxs fans are demographically almost identical to Cubs fans. This is likely to upset fans of both teams...
I had a whole post written, mostly about how, Cubs fan that I am, I do not hate the White Sox. I am happy for their fans. But I'm happy in the way that I would be if a cousin of mine won the lottery, which is of course completely different from the way I'd be happy I'd be if I won the lottery.
In the text of this little essay, I tried to artfully incorporate some links to coverage of the story that I liked. But that post disappeared into the ether, and I don't have the patience to try to be artful again (not that I was so successful the first time). So I'll just list the links:
Ticker tape parade with pictures, from a Sox fan at Chicagoist.
More Chicagoist coverage with comprehensive linkage.
Ryne Sandburg, Hall of Famer and former Cub, says Cubs fans should not be bitter.
His fellow Yahoo Sports analyst Tom Verducci says the Astros' manager let his team down in more ways than one.
Blogger and University of Chicago alumnus John Scalzi says he's glad the Sox won, because Cubs fans are a bunch of Sushi-eating, latte drinking, Volvo driving
Anyway, the Chicago Sun-Times says Soxs fans are demographically almost identical to Cubs fans. This is likely to upset fans of both teams...
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Temporarily Back
Just got back from camping in Wisconsin, to test our equipment and abilities, before camping for half our trip in Europe. It rained. Better than 104 degrees in Chicago. Too tired to type much. Have a couple of posts I'll try to put up before what will probably be a month long hiatus.
Cubs are leading the Cardinals by one run in the 9th -- fasten your seatbelts! The series is tied.
Ken says eventually, instead of calling the game, the announcers will just read a list of sponsors. If Walgreens just donated a hundred dollars to JDRF's walkathon, a Cub was just walked. If Chevrolet made a donation, they got a home run. If All State did, then it was an "insurance run." And if Jiffy Lube promises you a quick oil change, it was a pitching change. But currently, no one sponsors strike-outs.
Two down...
Two strikes, no balls...
Walk -- And he steals second on a bang-bang play! (Bad call? I don't know, it's radio.)
Base hit -- play at the plate -- safe? Tie game.
Another hit, another full count, out at first. Extra innings. Too much drama for me. And now it could go for a while.
---
Bases full of Cubs, top of the tenth...
Barret strikes out, two down...
AND Chevrolet is going to make a big, big, big, BIG! donation to WGN's neediest kids fund -
- Neifi Perez grand slam!
Okay, enough with the live blogging. If we don't win now, I'm not going to want to talk about it. Look up the score yourselves.
Cubs are leading the Cardinals by one run in the 9th -- fasten your seatbelts! The series is tied.
Ken says eventually, instead of calling the game, the announcers will just read a list of sponsors. If Walgreens just donated a hundred dollars to JDRF's walkathon, a Cub was just walked. If Chevrolet made a donation, they got a home run. If All State did, then it was an "insurance run." And if Jiffy Lube promises you a quick oil change, it was a pitching change. But currently, no one sponsors strike-outs.
Two down...
Two strikes, no balls...
Walk -- And he steals second on a bang-bang play! (Bad call? I don't know, it's radio.)
Base hit -- play at the plate -- safe? Tie game.
Another hit, another full count, out at first. Extra innings. Too much drama for me. And now it could go for a while.
---
Bases full of Cubs, top of the tenth...
Barret strikes out, two down...
AND Chevrolet is going to make a big, big, big, BIG! donation to WGN's neediest kids fund -
- Neifi Perez grand slam!
Okay, enough with the live blogging. If we don't win now, I'm not going to want to talk about it. Look up the score yourselves.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Chicago
Chicago
Carl Sandburg
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders;
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your
painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have
seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women
and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my
city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be
alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall
bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted
against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Bulding, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his
ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked,
sweating, pround to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
.
Carl Sandburg
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders;
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your
painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have
seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women
and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my
city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be
alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall
bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted
against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Bulding, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his
ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked,
sweating, pround to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Chicago Skyline
Via Byzantium's Shores and via the Chicagoist I see Chicago's skyline has been named fourth greatest in the world, by some people who took it upon themselves to name these things. They judged purely on number of floors, and not aesthetic quality, obviously.
Ken's moving into the apartment that I too will eventually be occupying, soon, and we've decided we want Chicago art, so I've been looking at skyline pictures, lately. Check out some of the posters I want to buy.
(I actually asked the photographer about a poster-sized print of this picture of Wrigley field too, but it sounded expensive.)
.
Ken's moving into the apartment that I too will eventually be occupying, soon, and we've decided we want Chicago art, so I've been looking at skyline pictures, lately. Check out some of the posters I want to buy.
(I actually asked the photographer about a poster-sized print of this picture of Wrigley field too, but it sounded expensive.)
.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Parking and Property Rights
The hot topic on the blogs I read these days is the ethics of claiming parking spots you dug out of the snow.
Teresa Nielsen Hayden points out an Ebay auction (look quick) selling an authetic parking control system. And Tim Burke ruminates on the role of government in our daily lives.
Usually, he says, government doesn't recognize these spontaneous social contracts.
Chicago's Mayor Daley is an exception, however. See commentary by Tribune columnist and blogger Eric Zorn and the University of Chicago Law Department.
I myself just dug out my very first parking spot a few weeks ago. It was Ken's car, but I had missed my work out, and after all, I ride around in it all the time. I felt compelled to earn my place in the passenger seat. And after I was done (it took an hour, in the cold and blowing snow), I felt entitled to claim that place on the street, as well.
Teresa Nielsen Hayden points out an Ebay auction (look quick) selling an authetic parking control system. And Tim Burke ruminates on the role of government in our daily lives.
Usually, he says, government doesn't recognize these spontaneous social contracts.
Chicago's Mayor Daley is an exception, however. See commentary by Tribune columnist and blogger Eric Zorn and the University of Chicago Law Department.
I myself just dug out my very first parking spot a few weeks ago. It was Ken's car, but I had missed my work out, and after all, I ride around in it all the time. I felt compelled to earn my place in the passenger seat. And after I was done (it took an hour, in the cold and blowing snow), I felt entitled to claim that place on the street, as well.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Saturday, January 15, 2005
This is Grand
This is Grand is the name of a blog which features stories from Chicago's El, and is also what the recorded voice announces inaudibly over the tunnel noise, when the train is about to stop at Grand.
The blog had a photo contest, and the twelve winners are posted here. I share the Chicagoist's weakness for scenes that include people, and I don't think these photos are really lying... I think there is something sublime about mass transit.
As further evidence, I'm going to link to these gorgeous 1920s posters for Chicago rapid transit. I've actually linked to them before, but even I had trouble finding where.
One of them is my desktop wallpaper. Another one inspired me to visit the lighthouse just north of campus. Well worth the trip.
Seems like my blogging's been a lot less Chicago-centric lately. It's a shame. But what with the weather and all, it's so much easier to stay in and rent Buffy DVDs (although now that Blockbuster has decided to let everybody keep movies for a month before charging them for the disk, it's going to be harder to find them) than to go down town and explore the city.
We did go down before Christmas. We took the Christmas Train to see the window displays at Marshall Field's and the Daley Plaza Tree and Christkindlmarket (the tree was so much bigger than I expected from the pictures. Ornaments the size of beach balls looked the same size as normal ornaments, in comparison to it) and The Magnificent Mile Lights Festival. That was a great night.
But now that the holidays are over, most of the city is hibernating anyway. There aren't many events to draw me out of my own cave. I guess I'll just have to make do with photoblogs until spring comes again. Cubs tickets on sale soon...
The blog had a photo contest, and the twelve winners are posted here. I share the Chicagoist's weakness for scenes that include people, and I don't think these photos are really lying... I think there is something sublime about mass transit.
As further evidence, I'm going to link to these gorgeous 1920s posters for Chicago rapid transit. I've actually linked to them before, but even I had trouble finding where.
One of them is my desktop wallpaper. Another one inspired me to visit the lighthouse just north of campus. Well worth the trip.
Seems like my blogging's been a lot less Chicago-centric lately. It's a shame. But what with the weather and all, it's so much easier to stay in and rent Buffy DVDs (although now that Blockbuster has decided to let everybody keep movies for a month before charging them for the disk, it's going to be harder to find them) than to go down town and explore the city.
We did go down before Christmas. We took the Christmas Train to see the window displays at Marshall Field's and the Daley Plaza Tree and Christkindlmarket (the tree was so much bigger than I expected from the pictures. Ornaments the size of beach balls looked the same size as normal ornaments, in comparison to it) and The Magnificent Mile Lights Festival. That was a great night.
But now that the holidays are over, most of the city is hibernating anyway. There aren't many events to draw me out of my own cave. I guess I'll just have to make do with photoblogs until spring comes again. Cubs tickets on sale soon...
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
I Voted
And I would like to thank The Chicagoist, the Chicago Tribune, and the Daily Northwestern for doing the research for me, along with the Cook County Clerk's office for letting candidates put up statements. This is how I make my choices for offices like Recorder of Deeds and Water Reclamation District Comissioner. I really like being able to vote corrupt people out of "minor" offices, and incompetent judges off the bench. It's exciting, knowing that a vote for Republican Richard Cox (I'm always glad when I can vote for a Republican or two, just because I don't want anyone to take my vote for granted) is a vote to dismantle the Recorder of Deeds office altogether, eliminating some conspicuous abuses of public funds, not to mention one six figure salary -- Cox has promised to take only a dollar.
It occured to me, as listened to my students talk yesterday about how futile it was to vote in Illinois because it wasn't a "swing state," and how the electoral college sucked... that the "swing state" thing really has very little to do with the electoral college. If we got rid of it and used the popular vote alone, then there would be no uncertainty in any state, in most elections, and everyone would feel like their vote was futile. Turnout would drop even lower than it already is. The real problem is all the advance polling, which is the only reason people feel like Illinois' results are a forgone conclusion.
I also wanted to remind the students that there are other elections, besides the presidential and senatorial ones. I wasn't a part of their conversation and anyway I'm the TA, so I kept my mouth shut. But I think they need to feel a little more local responsibility. I think they have a duty to vote out the current Cook County Recorder of Deeds.
It occured to me, as listened to my students talk yesterday about how futile it was to vote in Illinois because it wasn't a "swing state," and how the electoral college sucked... that the "swing state" thing really has very little to do with the electoral college. If we got rid of it and used the popular vote alone, then there would be no uncertainty in any state, in most elections, and everyone would feel like their vote was futile. Turnout would drop even lower than it already is. The real problem is all the advance polling, which is the only reason people feel like Illinois' results are a forgone conclusion.
I also wanted to remind the students that there are other elections, besides the presidential and senatorial ones. I wasn't a part of their conversation and anyway I'm the TA, so I kept my mouth shut. But I think they need to feel a little more local responsibility. I think they have a duty to vote out the current Cook County Recorder of Deeds.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Next Year
Well, the season's over, but the Cubs had a winning record and were in playoff contention right up to the final weekend. And I've had a great time watching. Thanks, Dusty and everybody, for a fun summer.
The Reds game I saw on Wednesday was really our last hope. And we blew it -- but just barely. In the ninth inning we were up by two points, and the Reds already had two outs and two strikes on their batter. All LaTroy Hawkins had to do was throw it past him one more time... But instead he threw it over the plate and watched it sail back over his head, out of the park, for a two-run homerun. We stayed alive into a twelfth inning, but another two-run homer ended the game, and effectively, the Cubs' season.
And yet, it was still a great day to be at the ball park. The excitement was palpable. The weather was gorgeous. Wrigley Field is a stunning setting. The game was full of thrills, and of sentiment. The stands were full of the smell of beer and hot dogs, and of cotton candy and peanut shells and joy, at least the beginning. And we've got such a talented core team, and such a brilliant manager in Dusty Baker, that you just know next year we're going all the way.
That's right, I'm an archetypical Cubs fan now. We'll be buying some tickets in April, the season of hope.
These are pictures-of-pictures, and I apologize for the quality, but hopefully they give some sense of the excitement.
Fans enjoy their Ron Santo autographed baseball, one of five hundred given away randomly. Santo, the former Cub third baseman who now calls games with Pat Hughs for WGN radio, has become even more of a local hero since a movie was made about him (directed by his son) and his struggles with diabetes, which cost him both legs. He sang "take me out to the ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch, waving to the crowd from the broadcast booth.
Moises Alou's distinctive knock-knee'd batting stance.
Sammy Sosa's almost-grand-slam -- three runners go, the pitcher watches it sail, Sammy hops, and fists pump. But it was foul by a foot.
Southpaw Glendon Rusch (the figure walking away at left) with the bases loaded against him, after pitching a top quality game, and a top quality season as the Cubs sixth starter... And getting this game's only Cub home run.
View from the stands,with the lake at one edge, and the apartment buildings across the street topped with roof-top bleachers.
Harry Caray, the former voice of the Cubs, looms over the crowd at the corner of Addison and Sheffield. Wrigleyville on gameday, after a loss: forty thousand disappointed people.
The Reds game I saw on Wednesday was really our last hope. And we blew it -- but just barely. In the ninth inning we were up by two points, and the Reds already had two outs and two strikes on their batter. All LaTroy Hawkins had to do was throw it past him one more time... But instead he threw it over the plate and watched it sail back over his head, out of the park, for a two-run homerun. We stayed alive into a twelfth inning, but another two-run homer ended the game, and effectively, the Cubs' season.
And yet, it was still a great day to be at the ball park. The excitement was palpable. The weather was gorgeous. Wrigley Field is a stunning setting. The game was full of thrills, and of sentiment. The stands were full of the smell of beer and hot dogs, and of cotton candy and peanut shells and joy, at least the beginning. And we've got such a talented core team, and such a brilliant manager in Dusty Baker, that you just know next year we're going all the way.
That's right, I'm an archetypical Cubs fan now. We'll be buying some tickets in April, the season of hope.
These are pictures-of-pictures, and I apologize for the quality, but hopefully they give some sense of the excitement.
Fans enjoy their Ron Santo autographed baseball, one of five hundred given away randomly. Santo, the former Cub third baseman who now calls games with Pat Hughs for WGN radio, has become even more of a local hero since a movie was made about him (directed by his son) and his struggles with diabetes, which cost him both legs. He sang "take me out to the ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch, waving to the crowd from the broadcast booth.
Moises Alou's distinctive knock-knee'd batting stance.
Sammy Sosa's almost-grand-slam -- three runners go, the pitcher watches it sail, Sammy hops, and fists pump. But it was foul by a foot.
Southpaw Glendon Rusch (the figure walking away at left) with the bases loaded against him, after pitching a top quality game, and a top quality season as the Cubs sixth starter... And getting this game's only Cub home run.
View from the stands,with the lake at one edge, and the apartment buildings across the street topped with roof-top bleachers.
Harry Caray, the former voice of the Cubs, looms over the crowd at the corner of Addison and Sheffield. Wrigleyville on gameday, after a loss: forty thousand disappointed people.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Fire at Fullerton
I had another post planned for today, a sciency one. But that one will have to wait. Last night was just too interesting not to record. What I was trying to do was meet Andy (I hope you doesn't mind being mentioned, Andy) downtown for the outdoor movie in Grant Park. It was "Roman Holiday." Here is what happened on the way.
I'm waiting to cross the street by my El stop, and someone says to me, "They were on their way to deliver the bridge, but they ran out of gas."
I say, "They what what?"
He points. "The truck ran into the bridge there. So I said, you know, they tried to deliver the bridge..." Sure enough, a semi is wedged under not-quite-elevated-enough El tracks. The cab went under, but the top of the trailer is crumpled backwards, and a cop has closed down the lane. I laugh even though I know I shouldn't, and go up. Just in time to miss my train, but never mind, there'll be another in a minute.
I discover an insect in my shirt. We'll elide that bit.
I make conversation with a couple of women, who did not see me trying to get the bug out of my blouse. (The one who did went to the other end of the platform.) They're trying to figure out whether they need to change trains later. The answer is "yes."
We get on the train. It passes over the stuck truck. A few stops later, they change trains -- I stay put. Except neither train goes anywhere. For a long time. We get a couple of apologetic announcements from the conductor. And then: "This train is gonna be out of service." We all transfer to the other line. I say hi to the women from the platform, and borrow a phone from one of them, make a call about the change of plans, receive a call (she was surprised!) and then the plans change again. This train will be turning back half way, the PA system says unintelligibly. There will be a shuttle bus. The passengers are all talking to one another now, trying to figure out what he said, what they'll have to do. I wonder if that train I missed made it through.
We all get off a few stops later. It is now pouring, so I have my doubts about the movie. But I wait for the bus with everyone else, under the shelter of the tracks. I'm kind of enjoying myself, actually. This train load of people is really starting to bond, now. Everyone's speculating. An old black lady is furious.
Most people seem to think someone has fallen or thrown themselves on the tracks again. They have no patience for anyone whose suicide interrupts their commute. Someone says, "Fire on the Brown Line." The bus comes, destination unmarked, the driver as clueless as we are.
It's the most crowded bus I've ever been on. I get a seat, but most people have to stand in the aisle. The old black lady tells off a young man. He triest to defend himself, but she won't let him get a word in. He stands. She sits. Still scolding.
Off we go. Three high school girls in halter tops are getting a lecture from a dorky white man abot the importance of going to college. They are laughing at him. I'm on his side. I make the cover of my Electromagnetics book more visible. I think they've just finished some kind of summer program, and he must have been one of the instructors. Later he gets off and I think they're trying to read the street name, out the window next to me, so I tell them. But no, they're trying to see a purse in a shop window. Now I feel dorky. I hide the E&M book a little.
There's a leak in the roof above me. As the rain starts coming down for real, the older man (Korean?) next to me and the younger guy sitting behind me both try to block it somehow, but it's futile. All I can do is laugh helplessly. I think I'm going to get a lot wetter tonight. The older man asks me where I'm getting off, tells me he doesn't know how this works and will take his cue from me. That's even funnier.
We don't have much choice in the end. Everyone gets off at the same place, and gets on the Red Line. We're dispersed, though. On this train, I see a familiar face -- I think. I smile. I went on a date with him in October. But he looks blank. Maybe it's not him?
A few minutes later he says my name (slight mispronunciation, which I don't correct.) I answer to it. He apologizes for not getting back to me. I really don't mind. More interestingly, he saw the fire on the brown line. It was at Fullerton, he says. The flames were "pretty high."
He thinks I should walk instead of trying to get the train back to my stop. Since the train back to my stop never comes, I end up taking his advice. It is not raining anymore, but I have to wade some puddles in my sandals.
I can't find Andy at the stop we agreed to, but then I can't get up onto the platform without paying again either. There's some looking for pay phones and begging for mercy from the CTA person so that I can check the platform, but I can't find him. I hadn't had great hopes anyway. He'd been planning to come in on the Brown Line.
It is 9:00 when I get to the park -- an hour an forty-six minutes later than originally planned. The movie was scheduled to start at 8:20, but there seems to have been a rain delay. Audry Hepburn is still asleep in Gregory Peck's bed. I borrow a cell phone from a nice guy at the chair rental place and this time Andy answers. He's in cab, on his way home. But after all that, no way I'm not going watch rest of the movie. I sit on a plastic bag and pull out a piece of graph paper, and while I watch I write down most of the details I've described above. Afterward the people who run the projector are talking about how small the audience was. They assume it was because of the rain, but I tell them about the fire at Fullerton. They ask me what I was writing, and I tell them that too, including the URL for "this little website I've got."
I try to catch a bus home, and the driver tells me to take the El. "Yeah, that line's running. I just took it, didn't I?" He's right.
I can't see any fire damage at Fullerton, although I do see workmen standing around on the tracks. The truck is gone at my stop, too. The ride home is uninteresting, except for a girl sitting next to me, sketching the people on the train.
I'm waiting to cross the street by my El stop, and someone says to me, "They were on their way to deliver the bridge, but they ran out of gas."
I say, "They what what?"
He points. "The truck ran into the bridge there. So I said, you know, they tried to deliver the bridge..." Sure enough, a semi is wedged under not-quite-elevated-enough El tracks. The cab went under, but the top of the trailer is crumpled backwards, and a cop has closed down the lane. I laugh even though I know I shouldn't, and go up. Just in time to miss my train, but never mind, there'll be another in a minute.
I discover an insect in my shirt. We'll elide that bit.
I make conversation with a couple of women, who did not see me trying to get the bug out of my blouse. (The one who did went to the other end of the platform.) They're trying to figure out whether they need to change trains later. The answer is "yes."
We get on the train. It passes over the stuck truck. A few stops later, they change trains -- I stay put. Except neither train goes anywhere. For a long time. We get a couple of apologetic announcements from the conductor. And then: "This train is gonna be out of service." We all transfer to the other line. I say hi to the women from the platform, and borrow a phone from one of them, make a call about the change of plans, receive a call (she was surprised!) and then the plans change again. This train will be turning back half way, the PA system says unintelligibly. There will be a shuttle bus. The passengers are all talking to one another now, trying to figure out what he said, what they'll have to do. I wonder if that train I missed made it through.
We all get off a few stops later. It is now pouring, so I have my doubts about the movie. But I wait for the bus with everyone else, under the shelter of the tracks. I'm kind of enjoying myself, actually. This train load of people is really starting to bond, now. Everyone's speculating. An old black lady is furious.
Most people seem to think someone has fallen or thrown themselves on the tracks again. They have no patience for anyone whose suicide interrupts their commute. Someone says, "Fire on the Brown Line." The bus comes, destination unmarked, the driver as clueless as we are.
It's the most crowded bus I've ever been on. I get a seat, but most people have to stand in the aisle. The old black lady tells off a young man. He triest to defend himself, but she won't let him get a word in. He stands. She sits. Still scolding.
Off we go. Three high school girls in halter tops are getting a lecture from a dorky white man abot the importance of going to college. They are laughing at him. I'm on his side. I make the cover of my Electromagnetics book more visible. I think they've just finished some kind of summer program, and he must have been one of the instructors. Later he gets off and I think they're trying to read the street name, out the window next to me, so I tell them. But no, they're trying to see a purse in a shop window. Now I feel dorky. I hide the E&M book a little.
There's a leak in the roof above me. As the rain starts coming down for real, the older man (Korean?) next to me and the younger guy sitting behind me both try to block it somehow, but it's futile. All I can do is laugh helplessly. I think I'm going to get a lot wetter tonight. The older man asks me where I'm getting off, tells me he doesn't know how this works and will take his cue from me. That's even funnier.
We don't have much choice in the end. Everyone gets off at the same place, and gets on the Red Line. We're dispersed, though. On this train, I see a familiar face -- I think. I smile. I went on a date with him in October. But he looks blank. Maybe it's not him?
A few minutes later he says my name (slight mispronunciation, which I don't correct.) I answer to it. He apologizes for not getting back to me. I really don't mind. More interestingly, he saw the fire on the brown line. It was at Fullerton, he says. The flames were "pretty high."
He thinks I should walk instead of trying to get the train back to my stop. Since the train back to my stop never comes, I end up taking his advice. It is not raining anymore, but I have to wade some puddles in my sandals.
I can't find Andy at the stop we agreed to, but then I can't get up onto the platform without paying again either. There's some looking for pay phones and begging for mercy from the CTA person so that I can check the platform, but I can't find him. I hadn't had great hopes anyway. He'd been planning to come in on the Brown Line.
It is 9:00 when I get to the park -- an hour an forty-six minutes later than originally planned. The movie was scheduled to start at 8:20, but there seems to have been a rain delay. Audry Hepburn is still asleep in Gregory Peck's bed. I borrow a cell phone from a nice guy at the chair rental place and this time Andy answers. He's in cab, on his way home. But after all that, no way I'm not going watch rest of the movie. I sit on a plastic bag and pull out a piece of graph paper, and while I watch I write down most of the details I've described above. Afterward the people who run the projector are talking about how small the audience was. They assume it was because of the rain, but I tell them about the fire at Fullerton. They ask me what I was writing, and I tell them that too, including the URL for "this little website I've got."
I try to catch a bus home, and the driver tells me to take the El. "Yeah, that line's running. I just took it, didn't I?" He's right.
I can't see any fire damage at Fullerton, although I do see workmen standing around on the tracks. The truck is gone at my stop, too. The ride home is uninteresting, except for a girl sitting next to me, sketching the people on the train.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Lake Michigan
Every day at dusk I run a few miles along the lake. Now that I've been here almost a year, I've seen four seasons' worth of sunsets. And it's true: each one is different. You'd think by now I would have internalized that cliché, but no. The changes keep taking me by surprise. Some part of me still thinks that after a couple hundred evenings on this same stretch of beach, I ought to know it. I haven't grown used to seeing things I've never seen before.
I never bring a camera, but every single day I have reason to wish I had. Fleeting effects of light, tableaus of beach goers. Before I come back, they'll be gone. But because I'm running, I move past before the scene changes, and so I perceive a series of snapshots, or possibly paintings.
First -- the residential street where I live, brick and trees and decorative windows. I can tell when I'm getting near the lake because the houses grow more expensive. Usually around eight there's a cop standing at this end of the street. I don't know what he's doing there, but sometimes I wave.
Then I can see the water, across a little stretch of public park. If I have started my run early, and it has been a particularly fair day, the lake will be two completely saturated hues of irridescent blue-green. I like to think the word "ultramarine" was invented to describe the deeper shade, which belongs to the deeper water, out toward the horizon. The nearer distance has a little more gold in it, because the sand shows through. Both colors are flecked with reflections, sunlight scintillating off the surface. But if it is cloudy, the water will only be a metallic green and gold. Or if it is twilight, then it will be any of a thousand shades of pale purple. All of this is the more remarkable since it is so startlingly transparent, clearer than my windows, when examined close up.
The sky is always tastefully color-coordinated, of course. You can see a lot of sky when there is nothing but water between you and the edge of the world. In the evenings the sun picks out the tops of the clouds in white, and the backdrop glows translucently, greenish gray or lavender. Then the clouds burn down to embers, and the light is orange.
After the sun goes down, the sky is still orange. Or really, sodium yellow, 584 and 589 nanometers. That's the color of Chicago's streetlights, which prevent night from ever quite falling. There's always a blush behind the skyline of the city.
I know it washes out stars, but it's such a perfect velvety setting for the buildings themselves, which seem to be made out of light, crystalline, otherworldly, when all you can see are their shining windows... Or the brightly lit spires (radio antennae) rising from the top, in the case of the Hancock building and the Sears tower. They are meant to be beacons, after all.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let us say it is still daylight, as I get to the end of my street and catch my first glimpse of the water and the sky and the city. The views I am describing come later, further along. At first I just satisfy the suspense -- what color is the water? -- and then turn my back on it, and keep running. Through a series of small parks bordered on one side by sandy beach. Usually there are children here. Sometimes family reunions, grilling out. Occasionally a wedding party, posing on the rocks. Or a less formal couple, leaning against one another and looking at the view. Kids and parents playing catch or flying a kite. I love how trite these scenes are, sort of multi-cultural Norman Rockwells. It's good for a person to see a little innocent pleasure every day, helps ward off cynicism.
There are always other runners. I run a little faster if a fellow jogger is nearby. There will be volleyball players on the beach, probably, and bicyclists, and inline skaters. And some people who have come to just sit outside and read, especially around the fountains.
I leave the park, pass the sailing club's boathouse. At this time of day, the boats will be heading in. All white sails, dyed by the setting sun to match the clouds.
Now I cross a little bridge onto a (man made) grassy penninsula. In the little sandy cliff across from the bridge, some species of bird has made a honeycomb of bird-house sized holes. They don't seem to be living there any more, but in the spring, you could watch them bustling in and out.
We also have ducks, and gulls of course, which remind me of the sailboats, when they're in flight. Sometimes they just bob on the lake in flocks. Once they settled on the soccer field, and I was unable to resist running through them, scattering them in three dimensions. They settled again on the field behind me.
Back in June, I was attacked on three separate occasions by birds I couldn't even see. They came at me from above and pecked at my head, and were gone before I figured out what was in my hair. I hope they were protecting a nest, rather than trying to build one. Then yesterday I noticed some other species -- starlings? -- swarming the way gnats swarm, above the trees. (Oh yes, we have gnats too. So many that sometimes they end up in my eyes and my mouth. You can't see them from a distance, but you can see other joggers react. Suddenly their faces contort and their arms wave for what appears to be no reason at all, as though they were having spasms. I was puzzled and amused the first time, until I ran into the same swarm... Then I was not puzzled, and found it a little less amusing...)
I'm becoming more familiar with lots of local wildlife, in fact. We also have fish, of course, big ones visible just under the surface, which people catch from the very tip of the penninsula. They stand on the haphazardly arranged concrete blocks which border the whole thing. These are graffiti'd with declarations of undying devotion, bad poetry, names and nicknames and dates, so you have something to read while waiting for a bite.
And among these artificial boulders a little further up lives a family of raccoons. I've seen them so many times now that I can tell the little ones have grown. They're just coming out for the night when I get there. Rabbits like the dusk too, of course. That's when they feed, I remember from Watership Down, "silflay." There are almost as many of them as squirrels.
When Andrew was here we saw, a little further from the lake, a baby possum. At first I wasn't sure it was really so young. I've never really seen on that close up before. Not ten feet away, watching us, from a tree. But later we saw a full-sized one, and then a whole family of them, so I know that one was really a possum pup, and not just unusually adorable. Huge eyes. I'm not usually out late enough for possums. (We also saw a pure black squirrel, which impressed Andrew enormously.)
He came with me on a run and naturally it poured. I run in the rain, if at all possible. Sometimes the puddles cover the tops of my shoes and my socks get wet. Everything sticks to me. I'm careful not to wear white. Any men foolhardy enough to be out in weathter like that will simply take off their shirts. I'm sure one of them, once, was running more slowly than he had to so as not to leave me too far behind... When I caught him, I said, "Nice weather, huh?" He laughed, sort of self-mocking, and I ran past.
Of course, stormy days involve the risk of lightning, but the reward is worth it: when the sun falls beneath the cloud layer you're almost guarenteed a rainbow. My understanding of the physics is that you're most likely to see rainbows when the sun in on the horizon anyway, which may account for the inordinate number that I've seen this year. The sun sets in the west, so the rainbow appears to the east, over the lake, one end passing behind the Chicago skyline.
All of this is so valuable to me that I keep running well into autumn. Forty degrees, I'm fine. It's only when my hands begin to chap and my nose turns numb and I can't see because of the hair blowing in my face and the paths ice over that I finally admit defeat for the winter and switch to reading books on the stairclimber.
I was more grateful for spring, this past year, than I can ever recall having felt before. I planned myself a longer route, all the way to the end of the path by the lake.
I never bring a camera, but every single day I have reason to wish I had. Fleeting effects of light, tableaus of beach goers. Before I come back, they'll be gone. But because I'm running, I move past before the scene changes, and so I perceive a series of snapshots, or possibly paintings.
First -- the residential street where I live, brick and trees and decorative windows. I can tell when I'm getting near the lake because the houses grow more expensive. Usually around eight there's a cop standing at this end of the street. I don't know what he's doing there, but sometimes I wave.
Then I can see the water, across a little stretch of public park. If I have started my run early, and it has been a particularly fair day, the lake will be two completely saturated hues of irridescent blue-green. I like to think the word "ultramarine" was invented to describe the deeper shade, which belongs to the deeper water, out toward the horizon. The nearer distance has a little more gold in it, because the sand shows through. Both colors are flecked with reflections, sunlight scintillating off the surface. But if it is cloudy, the water will only be a metallic green and gold. Or if it is twilight, then it will be any of a thousand shades of pale purple. All of this is the more remarkable since it is so startlingly transparent, clearer than my windows, when examined close up.
The sky is always tastefully color-coordinated, of course. You can see a lot of sky when there is nothing but water between you and the edge of the world. In the evenings the sun picks out the tops of the clouds in white, and the backdrop glows translucently, greenish gray or lavender. Then the clouds burn down to embers, and the light is orange.
After the sun goes down, the sky is still orange. Or really, sodium yellow, 584 and 589 nanometers. That's the color of Chicago's streetlights, which prevent night from ever quite falling. There's always a blush behind the skyline of the city.
I know it washes out stars, but it's such a perfect velvety setting for the buildings themselves, which seem to be made out of light, crystalline, otherworldly, when all you can see are their shining windows... Or the brightly lit spires (radio antennae) rising from the top, in the case of the Hancock building and the Sears tower. They are meant to be beacons, after all.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let us say it is still daylight, as I get to the end of my street and catch my first glimpse of the water and the sky and the city. The views I am describing come later, further along. At first I just satisfy the suspense -- what color is the water? -- and then turn my back on it, and keep running. Through a series of small parks bordered on one side by sandy beach. Usually there are children here. Sometimes family reunions, grilling out. Occasionally a wedding party, posing on the rocks. Or a less formal couple, leaning against one another and looking at the view. Kids and parents playing catch or flying a kite. I love how trite these scenes are, sort of multi-cultural Norman Rockwells. It's good for a person to see a little innocent pleasure every day, helps ward off cynicism.
There are always other runners. I run a little faster if a fellow jogger is nearby. There will be volleyball players on the beach, probably, and bicyclists, and inline skaters. And some people who have come to just sit outside and read, especially around the fountains.
I leave the park, pass the sailing club's boathouse. At this time of day, the boats will be heading in. All white sails, dyed by the setting sun to match the clouds.
Now I cross a little bridge onto a (man made) grassy penninsula. In the little sandy cliff across from the bridge, some species of bird has made a honeycomb of bird-house sized holes. They don't seem to be living there any more, but in the spring, you could watch them bustling in and out.
We also have ducks, and gulls of course, which remind me of the sailboats, when they're in flight. Sometimes they just bob on the lake in flocks. Once they settled on the soccer field, and I was unable to resist running through them, scattering them in three dimensions. They settled again on the field behind me.
Back in June, I was attacked on three separate occasions by birds I couldn't even see. They came at me from above and pecked at my head, and were gone before I figured out what was in my hair. I hope they were protecting a nest, rather than trying to build one. Then yesterday I noticed some other species -- starlings? -- swarming the way gnats swarm, above the trees. (Oh yes, we have gnats too. So many that sometimes they end up in my eyes and my mouth. You can't see them from a distance, but you can see other joggers react. Suddenly their faces contort and their arms wave for what appears to be no reason at all, as though they were having spasms. I was puzzled and amused the first time, until I ran into the same swarm... Then I was not puzzled, and found it a little less amusing...)
I'm becoming more familiar with lots of local wildlife, in fact. We also have fish, of course, big ones visible just under the surface, which people catch from the very tip of the penninsula. They stand on the haphazardly arranged concrete blocks which border the whole thing. These are graffiti'd with declarations of undying devotion, bad poetry, names and nicknames and dates, so you have something to read while waiting for a bite.
And among these artificial boulders a little further up lives a family of raccoons. I've seen them so many times now that I can tell the little ones have grown. They're just coming out for the night when I get there. Rabbits like the dusk too, of course. That's when they feed, I remember from Watership Down, "silflay." There are almost as many of them as squirrels.
When Andrew was here we saw, a little further from the lake, a baby possum. At first I wasn't sure it was really so young. I've never really seen on that close up before. Not ten feet away, watching us, from a tree. But later we saw a full-sized one, and then a whole family of them, so I know that one was really a possum pup, and not just unusually adorable. Huge eyes. I'm not usually out late enough for possums. (We also saw a pure black squirrel, which impressed Andrew enormously.)
He came with me on a run and naturally it poured. I run in the rain, if at all possible. Sometimes the puddles cover the tops of my shoes and my socks get wet. Everything sticks to me. I'm careful not to wear white. Any men foolhardy enough to be out in weathter like that will simply take off their shirts. I'm sure one of them, once, was running more slowly than he had to so as not to leave me too far behind... When I caught him, I said, "Nice weather, huh?" He laughed, sort of self-mocking, and I ran past.
Of course, stormy days involve the risk of lightning, but the reward is worth it: when the sun falls beneath the cloud layer you're almost guarenteed a rainbow. My understanding of the physics is that you're most likely to see rainbows when the sun in on the horizon anyway, which may account for the inordinate number that I've seen this year. The sun sets in the west, so the rainbow appears to the east, over the lake, one end passing behind the Chicago skyline.
All of this is so valuable to me that I keep running well into autumn. Forty degrees, I'm fine. It's only when my hands begin to chap and my nose turns numb and I can't see because of the hair blowing in my face and the paths ice over that I finally admit defeat for the winter and switch to reading books on the stairclimber.
I was more grateful for spring, this past year, than I can ever recall having felt before. I planned myself a longer route, all the way to the end of the path by the lake.
Saturday, August 07, 2004
Congratulations, Greg.
Greg Maddux won his 300th game today.
In the interviews I'm hearing now, he sounds more like Eeyore than ever. Paraphrased: "Why did you leave after five innings?" "I wasn't pitching very good." "When did you start thinking about three hundred wins?" "When I got to two-ninety-nine. I didn't want to get ahead of myself." "You didn't do any curtain calls?" "Well, it was their park. It didn't seem right."
We love you Greg. Thanks for coming back to the Cubs, so Chicago can share this with you.
In the interviews I'm hearing now, he sounds more like Eeyore than ever. Paraphrased: "Why did you leave after five innings?" "I wasn't pitching very good." "When did you start thinking about three hundred wins?" "When I got to two-ninety-nine. I didn't want to get ahead of myself." "You didn't do any curtain calls?" "Well, it was their park. It didn't seem right."
We love you Greg. Thanks for coming back to the Cubs, so Chicago can share this with you.
Saturday, July 31, 2004
I've become an Illinois Politics Blog
Readers from other parts of the world may not know that from 1955-1976, Richard J. Daley was Mayor of Chicago, and that since 1999, his son, Richard M. Daley, has filled that office. The name "Daley" is all over the city, on almost every public building. This dynasty is part of what makes Chicago politics so interesting to me (along with the famous "machine" and the rumors of mob ties and the rivalries between different neighborhoods.) These readers also might not know that Chicago has two baseball teams, the Cubs and the White Sox. Cubs are North Side, Sox are South Side. They don't compete directly, as they belong to different leagues, but nevertheless Sox fans will say their favorite team is "The Sox and whoever's beating the Cubs" and Cubs fans will wear "Sox suck" shirts.
Mayor Daley is a Sox fan. In Chicago, this means a lot more than the fact that he's a Democrat. (Everyone's a Democrat!) So with that context, you can appreciate the humor of this item from last year, via Andy:
In an effort to get a leg up on his four opponents in the hotly contested race for 44th Ward, attorney Dean Maragos is distributing 15,000 refrigerator magnets with the Cubs' 2003 schedule. The magnets bear the Daley and Maragos campaign logos, with the slogan, "The Best Team for the 44th Ward."
Mayor Daley is a Sox fan. In Chicago, this means a lot more than the fact that he's a Democrat. (Everyone's a Democrat!) So with that context, you can appreciate the humor of this item from last year, via Andy:
In an effort to get a leg up on his four opponents in the hotly contested race for 44th Ward, attorney Dean Maragos is distributing 15,000 refrigerator magnets with the Cubs' 2003 schedule. The magnets bear the Daley and Maragos campaign logos, with the slogan, "The Best Team for the 44th Ward."
The giveaway implies two things that are not true because Daley is a die-hard Sox fan who wouldn't be caught dead at Wrigley Field, and he is not endorsing Maragos. He's supporting Tom Tunney, whom he recently appointed ward alderman.
... "We view the use of the mayor's logo as an endorsement," said Daley's deputy campaign manager Julian Green.
...He added, "No one should be worried about the mayor's allegiance. Clearly, the mayor is a Sox fan."
Incidentally, Tunney won.
I also think it's funny that according to my friend Tomasz, who went to the Cubs game yesterday (Cubs 10 Phillies 7, hooray!) there were lots of people wearing hard hats. Just as Andy suggested. (That links to a Sun Times article because the Chicago Tribune owns the Cubs...) No women wearing beards, though, they only do that when Matt Clement pitches -- as he did today.
And finally, I should update you all: Jack Ryan finally dropped out of the race on Thursday. I realized I never mentioned one of the more surreal aspects of the case, which non-Chicago readers may not have known: the woman he divorced was Jeri Ryan, who played Seven-of-Nine on Star Trek, Voyager.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Why I like Barack Obama
(NB -- I've added a bit to the bottom of this one.)
(Update -- I'm just going to keep tweaking this post when I think of something else to say... I've added some links this time.)
I just posted an abbreviated version of this in the comments at Byzantium's Shores and decided it ought to be a whole post. In spite of what I just said about not posting so frequently.
Obama's Convention Keynote Adress solidified my support. Here's why:
My favorite thing about him is that he doesn't pander. I have yet to hear him make any impossible promises, which habit has been a problem for several of the other convention speakers. Health care is a hard problem, and even if you could get enough Republican support to actually pass any of these universal insurance plans, it would take years to actually get it working as well as the Canadian or UK systems, about which Canadian and British people complain constantly (though they prefer their own to the US system.) Job creation isn't that easy, and cloned-embryo stem cells, moral issues aside, won't provide the miracle cure that Ron Reagan described.
As far as I can tell, Obama doesn't make claims like that. Nor do his speeches consist of restatements of the party line on the high profile issues. At the debate I saw, when the others piled on an abortion question to make it clear that they had absolutely no doubts on the subject, he saved his time to talk about death penalty reform, which he was involved in, in the Illinois Senate. You may remember that Illinois placed a moratorium on the death penalty pending investigation. As a civil rights lawyer, Obama was well-suited to participate in that process. He is not categorically anti-death-penalty, and I am, but I respect that he didn't pander to me either. Similarly, though he has consistently opposed going into Iraq, he repeatedly tells pacificist Democrats that he sometimes supports wars. I'm surprised this sort of thing hasn't cost him more votes. But apparently it wins them -- after all, it worked on me.
My second favorite thing about him is that he doesn't demonize his opponents. This is my main problem with Howard Dean. He thinks Republicans are brain-eating aliens. Whereas Obama says:
We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.
Now that's what I call a uniter, not a divider. Mentioning "worship" is another example of not pandering to your base, by the way. His references to religion put off one strongly left-wing friend of mine before the primaries. He seems much more sincere about it than most Democrats. (I really wish atheistic politicians were allowed to simply call themselves atheists. Its Obama's honesty that I like, not his actual beliefs. But atheists aren't allowed to be honest -- because other people like the beliefs.)
My third favorite thing about him is that he talks about moral duties when other Democrats only talk about rights. This is sort of the same thing as not pandering, in the sense that people want to hear about rights rather than duties, most of the time.
When he said "Alongside our famous individualism, there’s another ingredient in the American saga. A belief that we’re all connected as one people. If there is a child on the south side of Chicago who can’t read, that matters to me, even if it’s not my child." I really expected him to start quoting John Donne. "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."
And I liked "The people I meet — in small towns and big cities, in diners and office parks — they don’t expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead — and they want to." for the same reason.
My fourth favorite thing about him is that he knows and cares about the rest of the world, outside of the US. His father is from Kenya. He spent part of his childhood in Indonesia (and more of it in Hawaii.) He's got perspective. I trust him to care about people who live in other countries, and people who are new to this country.
My fifth favorite thing about him is that lives in Illinois, and his mom's from Kansas, and I believe he knows the sort of people that I know. It's not so much that I like midwesterners, as that I don't want people who don't like midwesterners representing me.
My sixth favorite thing about him is his charisma. Although I feel guilty, liking him for such a shallow reason.
My seventh favorite thing is that he speaks clear, correct, articulate English, without sounding pretentious.
My eighth favorite thing about him is his résumé. Editor of the Harvard Law review, civil rights lawyer in Chicago, and a solid state senate record.
I also like that he'll add some desperately needed racial diversity to the Senate, but I think it's unfair that he's going to be expected to represent an entire race, as well as my state. It's unfair to him in the same way this is unfair.
UPDATE:
After watching Edwards' speech last night, which struck me as empty all limp generalities and rhetorical tricks, I had a good-humored argument today over whether Obama's was any better. After all, he didn't exactly lay out an agenda either, except in the same general "poverty bad; veterans good" sense. I asked myself what it is, exactly, that I want from these speeches. After all, they can't really wonk out on national television. Anyone who wants to read a budget proposal can probably find that material themselves. So what do I expect them to do on television? What did Obama do that Edwards didn't?
I've decided what I want is for politicians to get up there and explain to the people why they can't have everything they want. I'd like them to explain the political realities to people who live in insular communities, and don't understand what their tax breaks/public works project/social services would mean in terms of sacrifices that other communities would have to make. Some civics lessons, a tutorial on deficit spending, and sincere efforts to make competing interests understand one another's points of view. I want my politicians to get up in front of everyone and say, "It's more complicated than you think!"
This comes back to "don't pander." Edwards just told people what they wanted to hear. Obama generally doesn't. As I said, I think his emphasis on responsibility in the DNC speech is a part of what made it so good.
But there are better examples. For instance, he got in a little trouble the other day for acknowledging that there's not much difference between John Kerry and George Bush on Iraq, for instance -- that's true. There's not much choice now but to appeal for help and keep trying to rebuild. There's presumably a large difference between what Kerry would have done in March of 2003 and what Bush did, but we can't undo it now. It's true, but none of the other Democrats will say it.
Some more quotes I like:
On foreign policy: "To begin with, we must confront the immediate challenge involved in returning sovereignty to the Iraqi people. Although I loudly and vigorously opposed the war in Iraq, I understand that it was an American commitment, not a Republican one. --- Closer to home, the United States has a powerful interest in sustaining democratic reforms in Latin America. We must restore the United States’ reputation as a defender of democracy in this region. [Who talks about this?] --- And, in every region, we must remember that our armed forces cannot impose democracies." And this whole speech. "I am not opposed to all wars. I’m opposed to dumb wars."
On crime: "In America, we teach that when a criminal has done their time– they’re free to return to society. But that is not the reality. Ex-offenders are subject to any number of hurdles, particularly with respect to employment and housing. Though some of these provisions are offered as protection from violent criminals, they too often restrict non-violent ex-offenders as well." [on the passage of a crime package he sponsored, which also mandated videotaped interrogations and record keeping for the purpose of detecting racial profiling.]
On the economy (soundclip): "All of us at some level believe in free trade. --- But what we do expect that our government is going to make sure that people are at the forefront of this government's thinking when it comes to world trade." [proposing replace tax advantages for moving jobs with tax cuts for those who keep them in the US -- "You don't have to be protectionist to say that that's got to change."]
On politics:"A century and a half ago, two Senate candidates from Illinois set an admirable standard for campaigning with a series of debates that captivated the attention of the entire nation. --- To do these issues justice, we owe the people of Illinois more than glib TV ads and rehearsed sound-bites. " [proposing Lincoln-Douglas style debates with Jack Ryan]
Obama is outrageously popular, all of the sudden, so maybe nuance will catch on.
(Update -- I'm just going to keep tweaking this post when I think of something else to say... I've added some links this time.)
I just posted an abbreviated version of this in the comments at Byzantium's Shores and decided it ought to be a whole post. In spite of what I just said about not posting so frequently.
Obama's Convention Keynote Adress solidified my support. Here's why:
My favorite thing about him is that he doesn't pander. I have yet to hear him make any impossible promises, which habit has been a problem for several of the other convention speakers. Health care is a hard problem, and even if you could get enough Republican support to actually pass any of these universal insurance plans, it would take years to actually get it working as well as the Canadian or UK systems, about which Canadian and British people complain constantly (though they prefer their own to the US system.) Job creation isn't that easy, and cloned-embryo stem cells, moral issues aside, won't provide the miracle cure that Ron Reagan described.
As far as I can tell, Obama doesn't make claims like that. Nor do his speeches consist of restatements of the party line on the high profile issues. At the debate I saw, when the others piled on an abortion question to make it clear that they had absolutely no doubts on the subject, he saved his time to talk about death penalty reform, which he was involved in, in the Illinois Senate. You may remember that Illinois placed a moratorium on the death penalty pending investigation. As a civil rights lawyer, Obama was well-suited to participate in that process. He is not categorically anti-death-penalty, and I am, but I respect that he didn't pander to me either. Similarly, though he has consistently opposed going into Iraq, he repeatedly tells pacificist Democrats that he sometimes supports wars. I'm surprised this sort of thing hasn't cost him more votes. But apparently it wins them -- after all, it worked on me.
My second favorite thing about him is that he doesn't demonize his opponents. This is my main problem with Howard Dean. He thinks Republicans are brain-eating aliens. Whereas Obama says:
We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.
Now that's what I call a uniter, not a divider. Mentioning "worship" is another example of not pandering to your base, by the way. His references to religion put off one strongly left-wing friend of mine before the primaries. He seems much more sincere about it than most Democrats. (I really wish atheistic politicians were allowed to simply call themselves atheists. Its Obama's honesty that I like, not his actual beliefs. But atheists aren't allowed to be honest -- because other people like the beliefs.)
My third favorite thing about him is that he talks about moral duties when other Democrats only talk about rights. This is sort of the same thing as not pandering, in the sense that people want to hear about rights rather than duties, most of the time.
When he said "Alongside our famous individualism, there’s another ingredient in the American saga. A belief that we’re all connected as one people. If there is a child on the south side of Chicago who can’t read, that matters to me, even if it’s not my child." I really expected him to start quoting John Donne. "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."
And I liked "The people I meet — in small towns and big cities, in diners and office parks — they don’t expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead — and they want to." for the same reason.
My fourth favorite thing about him is that he knows and cares about the rest of the world, outside of the US. His father is from Kenya. He spent part of his childhood in Indonesia (and more of it in Hawaii.) He's got perspective. I trust him to care about people who live in other countries, and people who are new to this country.
My fifth favorite thing about him is that lives in Illinois, and his mom's from Kansas, and I believe he knows the sort of people that I know. It's not so much that I like midwesterners, as that I don't want people who don't like midwesterners representing me.
My sixth favorite thing about him is his charisma. Although I feel guilty, liking him for such a shallow reason.
My seventh favorite thing is that he speaks clear, correct, articulate English, without sounding pretentious.
My eighth favorite thing about him is his résumé. Editor of the Harvard Law review, civil rights lawyer in Chicago, and a solid state senate record.
I also like that he'll add some desperately needed racial diversity to the Senate, but I think it's unfair that he's going to be expected to represent an entire race, as well as my state. It's unfair to him in the same way this is unfair.
UPDATE:
After watching Edwards' speech last night, which struck me as empty all limp generalities and rhetorical tricks, I had a good-humored argument today over whether Obama's was any better. After all, he didn't exactly lay out an agenda either, except in the same general "poverty bad; veterans good" sense. I asked myself what it is, exactly, that I want from these speeches. After all, they can't really wonk out on national television. Anyone who wants to read a budget proposal can probably find that material themselves. So what do I expect them to do on television? What did Obama do that Edwards didn't?
I've decided what I want is for politicians to get up there and explain to the people why they can't have everything they want. I'd like them to explain the political realities to people who live in insular communities, and don't understand what their tax breaks/public works project/social services would mean in terms of sacrifices that other communities would have to make. Some civics lessons, a tutorial on deficit spending, and sincere efforts to make competing interests understand one another's points of view. I want my politicians to get up in front of everyone and say, "It's more complicated than you think!"
This comes back to "don't pander." Edwards just told people what they wanted to hear. Obama generally doesn't. As I said, I think his emphasis on responsibility in the DNC speech is a part of what made it so good.
But there are better examples. For instance, he got in a little trouble the other day for acknowledging that there's not much difference between John Kerry and George Bush on Iraq, for instance -- that's true. There's not much choice now but to appeal for help and keep trying to rebuild. There's presumably a large difference between what Kerry would have done in March of 2003 and what Bush did, but we can't undo it now. It's true, but none of the other Democrats will say it.
Some more quotes I like:
On foreign policy: "To begin with, we must confront the immediate challenge involved in returning sovereignty to the Iraqi people. Although I loudly and vigorously opposed the war in Iraq, I understand that it was an American commitment, not a Republican one. --- Closer to home, the United States has a powerful interest in sustaining democratic reforms in Latin America. We must restore the United States’ reputation as a defender of democracy in this region. [Who talks about this?] --- And, in every region, we must remember that our armed forces cannot impose democracies." And this whole speech. "I am not opposed to all wars. I’m opposed to dumb wars."
On crime: "In America, we teach that when a criminal has done their time– they’re free to return to society. But that is not the reality. Ex-offenders are subject to any number of hurdles, particularly with respect to employment and housing. Though some of these provisions are offered as protection from violent criminals, they too often restrict non-violent ex-offenders as well." [on the passage of a crime package he sponsored, which also mandated videotaped interrogations and record keeping for the purpose of detecting racial profiling.]
On the economy (soundclip): "All of us at some level believe in free trade. --- But what we do expect that our government is going to make sure that people are at the forefront of this government's thinking when it comes to world trade." [proposing replace tax advantages for moving jobs with tax cuts for those who keep them in the US -- "You don't have to be protectionist to say that that's got to change."]
On politics:"A century and a half ago, two Senate candidates from Illinois set an admirable standard for campaigning with a series of debates that captivated the attention of the entire nation. --- To do these issues justice, we owe the people of Illinois more than glib TV ads and rehearsed sound-bites. " [proposing Lincoln-Douglas style debates with Jack Ryan]
Obama is outrageously popular, all of the sudden, so maybe nuance will catch on.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
More Chicago Blogging
A couple of pictures...
From the Hancock building...
and from the El.
I took a lot more, but I mostly took them on film. I want a record that will last at least a generation or so, something I could show my kids, someday. I superstitiously believe film photos are more real, more solid. I even took some of it on that black-and-white film that you develop with color chemicals -- so probably they won't last longer than ordinary color prints, but they look like heirlooms already.
I got other pictures from the top of the John Hancock building, third-tallest in Chicago and 16th-tallest in the world, with the city and the lake and the world at its feet. Pictures of the gleaming, science-fictional Millennium Park, where we watched puppet shows and gospel choirs and Wait Wait, joining half of Chicago in celebrating the big opening day. Pictures from the top of the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier, an homage to Ferris's original Chicago Wheel, designed for the 1893 World's Fair. I can imagine that opening day as well.
Pictures of Wrigleyville just prior to a Cubs game, like a Cubby-blue Mardi Gras. Pictures of the river, and the rails, and architectural follies from the 19th century and the 21st, pressed buttress-to-balcony. All the aging futurism, the naked steel and grimy brick and rickety wooden infrastructure that are Chicago's form and function. Pictures of the South Side, as seen from the El, kids playing ball in empty lots, and old men grumbling and smoking on porches.
Pictures of the Museum of Science and Industry, with its Apollo 8 capsule and "fairy castle" consisting of a silent-film actress's collection of doll-house sized ancient artifacts, and its model train set versions of Chicago and Seattle, and its expensive genetics and VR exhibits and Navy flight simulators, and the corroded hands-on chemistry demonstrations that stopped working long ago.
And pictures of Fermilab, a piece of praire with orange and blue warehouses, with 50s prefab houses painted bright colors and mashed together to make offices, next to the relocated farmhouses from all over the site. The whole thing is found-object art and sculptural concrete buildings, scattered incongruously across a piece of grassland where buffalo still graze. And in the tunnels underneath the giant round ridges, brightly painted housings for superconducting magnets, fed by Flash-Gordon machines and controlled from a room walled with computer monitors in yellow frames, displaying oscilloscope traces and rows of numbers. My favorite part was the 12 foot diameter bubble chamber which had recently been retired and dug out of its hole, to serve as a lawn ornament. A giant steel sphere with mysterious instruments bolted to it here and there, and catwalks on top. No doubt the neighbors will think it's a UFO.
What a weekend I've had. But I can't possibly put up all of the pictures, and even if I could, they wouldn't do Chicago justice. She's even more beautiful in person.
From the Hancock building...
and from the El.
I took a lot more, but I mostly took them on film. I want a record that will last at least a generation or so, something I could show my kids, someday. I superstitiously believe film photos are more real, more solid. I even took some of it on that black-and-white film that you develop with color chemicals -- so probably they won't last longer than ordinary color prints, but they look like heirlooms already.
I got other pictures from the top of the John Hancock building, third-tallest in Chicago and 16th-tallest in the world, with the city and the lake and the world at its feet. Pictures of the gleaming, science-fictional Millennium Park, where we watched puppet shows and gospel choirs and Wait Wait, joining half of Chicago in celebrating the big opening day. Pictures from the top of the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier, an homage to Ferris's original Chicago Wheel, designed for the 1893 World's Fair. I can imagine that opening day as well.
Pictures of Wrigleyville just prior to a Cubs game, like a Cubby-blue Mardi Gras. Pictures of the river, and the rails, and architectural follies from the 19th century and the 21st, pressed buttress-to-balcony. All the aging futurism, the naked steel and grimy brick and rickety wooden infrastructure that are Chicago's form and function. Pictures of the South Side, as seen from the El, kids playing ball in empty lots, and old men grumbling and smoking on porches.
Pictures of the Museum of Science and Industry, with its Apollo 8 capsule and "fairy castle" consisting of a silent-film actress's collection of doll-house sized ancient artifacts, and its model train set versions of Chicago and Seattle, and its expensive genetics and VR exhibits and Navy flight simulators, and the corroded hands-on chemistry demonstrations that stopped working long ago.
And pictures of Fermilab, a piece of praire with orange and blue warehouses, with 50s prefab houses painted bright colors and mashed together to make offices, next to the relocated farmhouses from all over the site. The whole thing is found-object art and sculptural concrete buildings, scattered incongruously across a piece of grassland where buffalo still graze. And in the tunnels underneath the giant round ridges, brightly painted housings for superconducting magnets, fed by Flash-Gordon machines and controlled from a room walled with computer monitors in yellow frames, displaying oscilloscope traces and rows of numbers. My favorite part was the 12 foot diameter bubble chamber which had recently been retired and dug out of its hole, to serve as a lawn ornament. A giant steel sphere with mysterious instruments bolted to it here and there, and catwalks on top. No doubt the neighbors will think it's a UFO.
What a weekend I've had. But I can't possibly put up all of the pictures, and even if I could, they wouldn't do Chicago justice. She's even more beautiful in person.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)