Sunday, June 6, 2010

Getting To Know You – Immersing Ourselves In The Neighborhood

My boyfriend Mat and I met, as many new love-stories go, on the Internet in a text-based RPG. He was an elf-eating Orc and I was a half-bird half-human druidic priestess and we fell in love. Then we met in real life and fell even more in love, and I decided to leave New York City for Chicago to be with him.

We have been here even since, starting in a cramped two bedroom garden apartment near Ashland and Augusta with three friends. Then, we moved to the top floor of a now defunct three-flat on Ashland and North with even more roommates and couch surfers. The dwelling was home to three floors full of college-aged folk and became notorious for late-night parties, mysterious fires and loud jam sessions.

In 2008 the building changed hands and the new owners, a developing firm with plans to change the structure to a high-end condo, had everyone evicted . This was perhaps an untimely decision, as the real estate market was crashing harder than a kid on a sugar rush, and the building is still gutted and vacant.

After moving from the three flat, we decided it was time to settle down per-say, and find a place for just the two of us – no more dudes, no more floor-quaking jam sessions (though this was before we purchased Rock Band and were angering our neighbors once again). We found a sub-letted condo on the corner of Paulina and Wabansia in a beautiful old red brick building that I found out was once a glove-factory, right next to the old Felt & Tarrant Comptometer building, now known as the PAC lofts. It was during this time that we decided we wanted to stay in this area for the rest of our lives and began looking for a home around Wicker Park or Bucktown.

It is now two years later, and I am sitting in our home near St. Paul and Hoyne, a place I hope to be for a very long time. Both Mat and I feel the need to immerse ourselves in this neighborhood, get to know everything about the people, the buildings, the trees. When we walk down the streets we will smile and look you in the eye and say “hello” even if you have your sun-glassed eyes locked on your phone, or head buried behind a coffee cup.

Last week, we started what will be a weekly historic walk using Elaine A. Coorens wonderful book, “Wicker Park: From 1673 Thru 1929 and Walking Tour Guide.” On today's walk, we began on Leavitt, where an older gentleman, perhaps in his late 70s, took notice of us surveying the intricate wooden detail on the house at 1630 N. Leavitt. “Did you know the el used to run right through here?” he said, pointing at a large fenced-in yard across the street. We did know, thanks to Coorens informative book, which we held up for him to see as we nodded. He said, “Oh, Elaine's book!” and told us that he had gone to see hear read the book and went on a historical walk with her. We chatted a bit more about some of the houses on the street before parting ways, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside about such a chance encounter with a Wicker Park old-timer.

We continued south and stopped to look at the fine Dutch Colonial cornice at 1542 N. Leavitt, where a gentleman and his canine companion smiled at us from the stoop. “Going on a historical walk?” he said, grinning. “I've been here for over 50 years! I moved here when I was 8, and my brother was 6! We came right off the boat from England and went right to Wicked Park.” We laughed at his joke and he looked at the book in our hands. “Is that the book by Elaine Coorens? Wow!” He told us that back the day, Elaine was a photographer for the Simmons furniture company and would take pictures of furniture for ads. His first job ever was working for her as an assistant, carrying equipment. At that moment his brother came out of the house and also greeted us kindly. They both recalled stories of growing up at that very location and seeing so many things change.

They had nicknamed empty lots, some of which they say sat for 30 years, for the names of the people who demolished the original structures. One such spot was “Sharp Park,” located on the southwest corner of Leavitt and North, named after the Sharp brothers who had torn down a tenement and left a lot full of rubble that became something of an urban-playground for the two brothers. Now there is a giant condo.

We walked east on Pierce, a street lined with giant mansion-like homes with yards two city lots wide, going slowly, taking in the fine details and aromatic front gardens. Briskly walking down the street was the same elderly gentleman we had met earlier in the day. “Hello again!” he said, and informed us that we was on his way to the store. Again we chatted, even longer this time, and he pointed us to a towering sycamore tree in the yard of 2138 W. Pierce. It was quite majestic and he told us that it reminded him of Handel's Largo from Xerxes, which he said is usually used as funeral music but he didn't like that. “It should be played on Earth Day, in my opinion. It is about Xerxes enjoying the shade of a magnificent sycamore tree, and that is what this is.” The three of us stood, listening to the wind and smiling and we stared up into the swaying canopy of leaves above the old houses. We parted ways again, though I hope we see him on our next walk.

We took Hoyne south, and before rain ended our excursions early, we met another friendly fellow who yelled at us from behind some bushes. “Do you like those blue flowers? I grew them myself! I'm 89 years old!” He reminded me a little of Molly Shannon's proud 50 year old SNL character. He popped up and approached us and explained he was a gardener and, just like the other neighbors we had met earlier, he unleashed a lifetime's worth of Wicker Park knowledge, free of charge. How fortuitous it was to have met all these wonderful people today!

We wish to emulate the kind neighbors we have met on our walks, who can tell us the histories of old houses, empty lots and of growing up in the area. Hopefully, in 50 years we can be that guy. We may be starting our lives in Wicker Park a little late in its history, but we're here to stay. We're going to see things change but hope some things will stay the same. If you see us, stop and say “hi.” Get to know your neighbors and learn about what has made this one of Chicago's greatest neighborhoods.





Sunday, January 25, 2009

Upstairs from Lisa Simpson

It's Sunday afternoon and my man and I just got back from the liquor store. For me, a bottle of Lindeman's Framboise which, despite it's relatively low alcohol content, resembles what a punch in the mouth would feel like, if given by a large rambunctious raspberry. Also on my list was a 4-pack of Guinness drafts, a bottle of Southern Tier's Gemini, a handle of Captain Morgan and a case of A&W Cream Soda.


Once we put the new drinkables away and settled down into our spots, we noticed a new sound in our apartment...that of a saxophone bellowing some moody blues from beneath the floorboards. Two hours of muffled scales I listened to, while baking some macaroni and cheese.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

things to come

"Where have YOU been?" is what you may be thinking, or what you may not be thinking, because nobody reads this blog....this blog that is but a speck of dust in a large multi-dimensioned blogiverse.

I have been listening to audiobooks, learning how to knit, playing Rock Band 2, and most recently, eating a baked potato topped with sour cream that right now resembles a half eaten slice of tres leches cake.

It is the last day of 2008 and good riddance indeed! Peace out to a year of school work and very little play, audi 5000 goes my day to day anxieties, now replaced by day to day comfort. fuzzy robes and bunny slippers is what my life is now. like the world is made of that really nice toilet paper.

In the future, this spot will be occupied by short stories, vignettes, anecdotes and whatchamicallits. Look forward to it!

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Dude, where's my car?

Someone stole our padiddled, stinky feet smelling, no radio having 1995 Honda Civic last night. From right in front of the building. Wow.

On a tree-lined street full of Lexuses (lexi?) and Beamers, they took our rust-rotted, stick-shifting, stall-prone ride. With a padiddle! Jokes on them!

But also on us.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Pass the Rickrolls please

I can't believe I just got rickrolled by the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I love Paste magazine. Their year-end round-up of the best the indie world has to offer mirrored the piles and piles of media accumulated in my living room to a tee. Their pick for album of the year was She&Him's delicate and instantly adorable self titled release. Big-eyed indie starlit Zooey Deschanel pairs up with guitar virtuoso M. Ward, combining their years of southern California radio-listening, excellent song writing abilities and unique voices to make 2008's best album. No robot voices, no collabos with big name producers, DJs or singers, no dramz -- just good ol' listening songs, for people who like to listen to music. I went to see them at Park West last July and was blown away by their stage presence...it was old timey and no-frills, and I sat on a stool against the wall and clapped my hands with others and felt like I was at a Carpenters show. Thats what its all about.



And then they did it again, Paste picked the best TV show ever for their fav of 08. Battlestar Galactica. And I've gone on about that series enough.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Battlestar Galactica Full Series Torrent Download

the key to getting hits on your blog is false advertising in blog titles. this is a test.

Friday, November 14, 2008

back at 1619 i hardly ever dreamt. which was a contrast from richmond hill's lucid era. i read books on astral projection. i did visualizations that were meant to bring on that body vibration, that mind-tone, that thing that would snap the elastic that ties you to the ethereal. it worked once. i looked at my hands. and then i moved and chicago gave me nothing but the infrequent visions of hollis, distorted, hazy and unjolting. but now, 1709 is like a dreamer's paradise, no search for the hands required..just fall asleep and let the past haunt your soul. not any past you have ever known, but instead a history of things that are real and very useful when watching jeopardy. i dont even need my hand-drawn star of asteroth beneath my pillow, the sciences are with me.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Girl at bar has clearly had enough of the double-Marty McFly serenade.

Another party, another Marty McFly.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Not Mitch Mitchell!

something i learned today, from lady on the train

In order for Captains to be effective, they must have either a hook hand, peg leg, distinguishable beard color, or be made of spiced rum.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Do You Believe In Gosh, the posthumous CD release of Mitch Hedberg's most recent work is hilarious, yet very very sad. Recorded at the Ontario Improv in 2005, by one James Franco (I dunno if this is actor James Franco, or some other one), it is the deepest and most honest of Hedberg's observations on how silly life is. He muses that Dr. Scholl wasted time getting his Phd because people would buy foot cushions from a Mr. Scholl. He imagines that the inside of a bottle of cleaning fluid is fucking clean.

S.A.D

I suffer from S.A.D. Ya know, winter blues. The colder and cloudier it gets, the worse off my anxiety is. I should probably get one of those special lights, but then the hypochondriac in me would worry about cancer from artificial rays.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Only one more month of school left to go. I'm already excited about some mid-winter leisure reading. Chapter after boring chapter of textbooks has me eyeing Amazon in a dangerous way. I plan on continuing my collection of fake knowledge and satirical non-fiction but I also have a new reading list of Chicago themed books.

Yesterday at Borders I got the new John Hodgman compendium of complete world knowledge, More Information Than You Require, a follow up to the hobo cult starting The Areas of My Expertise. On the busride home from Borders I began t he book, starting with the very informative but tiny type printed cover. Both the front and back cover, oozing with TMI. Fellow passengers gave me the same odd stares that I received when I read the first book on the bus. They must be wondering why I am staring at the cover of a book for so long instead of opening it. If only they could see the brilliance that is detailed in tiny print! I'm only on page three of the table of contents and already I am inundated with whosits and whatsits and lists and things of that nature.

During the same Borders trip I also got a book called Chicago: City On The Move. It's a gorgeous coffee table book chock full of black and white photos of the CTA's early days, street cars, trolleys, men digging blue clay by hand beneath the city. Now that I've taken B&W photography and learned how to develop film, I have much more appreciation for the tunnel dig pics of the '20s and '30s. But besides all the eye-candy, this book was also peppered with excerpts from books and newspaper articles that had to do with Chicago transportation. Already, one excerpt struck me as profound and puts into beautiful words an experience I've felt many many times.

"For hours each day Donald Ray rode them: the Howard, past Addison and Wrigley Field, then Belmont, then Fullerton, then the most exciting, the most dazzling part of the line: the descent into the underground tube just past the Armitage station. It was like a mouth consuming them all, changing light into shadow and darkness, the sound from a hum into an echoing thunder of vibration and noise. Once beneath the street, he would study the houses as they slowly drifted into the landscape; he was suddenly in the lead of a long, curling missile propelling itself through a hole under the earth, and only he was in control."

--- City Dogs by William Brashler

I have to get that book.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Yay!

My pictures and blog were featured on one of my favorite sites, Uptown Update! My work can be seen here and here.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Today In Dika History


Waiting for the train.




This cute ladybug sat next to me on the Red Line.


Uptown's newest lake. The Wilson Yard's unintended watering hole gets larger with each rain. Maybe by December we'll have an ice skating rink.

PC Vs. Mac

In the war of PC Vs. Mac, I feel like I'm the winner.

The "I'm a PC" ads did in fact, warm my heart a little, but that is just because people -- tons of people -- do use Microsoft computers even though they know they are "uncool" and "not necessarily dependable." Other words like "vulnerable to attack" and "clunky" also come to mind, but either way I'm going to use a PC and I dont see this changing anytime soon.

BUT I do find those Mac ads cute. Not so much Justin Long's whatever attitude, but more for the ever-wise John Hodgman's wit. And tweed is nice.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

battle state Vs. battle state

Bernard Hopkins ripped Pavlik's head off according to everyone who saw the fight like I did. Phili B. Hop laid some smack down on Ohioan Pavlik, and either way, it was a very good fight. A handle of Captian Morgan was useful tonight, like a flashlight in the midst of a blackout.

Today, in Dika History




Thursday, October 16, 2008

not cool

Today was unexpectedly not cool. I went to Media class to find a few students sitting in deep discussion, something about Mrs. Turner not coming in yesterday and today. As more students arrive and still no sign of Mrs. Turner or any English Dept. rep, half of the class leaves to the English dept. office on the sixth floor. 15 minutes later they return with this tall, hard-faced blond woman. She lets us know in a heavy Eastern European accent that Mrs. Turner was in the hospital, undergoing surgery for an organ transplant -- she does not know which organ -- and that it was likely she would not return for the rest of semester.

Without letting this thought sink in to any of us, who sat there dumbfounded, shocked, slack-jawed, she leaps into her history in "academia" and her background as a general know-it-all from Lithuania. She discloses that she is a English Comp professor. She then makes a class who has known each other for 9 weeks re-introduce themselves instead of bothering to look at our syllabus or textbook. In some odd way to get to know us, she launched into a political rant; calling Mccain a zombie, a disgrace, stating that she hopes we all voted Democrat, called Sarah Palin a few names...and even though I agree with her on many of those things, I found it very inappropriate. She didnt even know us, or our views. Her attack on McCain sent one girl, who we know to be born of wealth and a life-long Gold Coaster with parents with a long history of military service, running out of the room with tears in her eyes. She came to class expecting us to catch up on Chapter 4: The Internet, but instead had her beliefs picked apart by an English teacher we only just met today.

The teacher's next assult on us was her disregard for our lesson plan. She scowled at the essay list Mrs. Turner wrote for us, and told us that our act of discussing media together as a class was no longer called for. According to the new teacher, "feelings come second to research and I am not concerned with how you feel about media." This is a mistake. I learned more about media in this class than I ever expected and that was from the experiences of my other classmates and Mrs. Turner..talking about which newspapers we read and why, which shows we watch and why, what magazines mean to us and why and all along tieing it in with our reading.

The new teacher wants us to change what was planned as reflective essays to hardcore research papers. We all already took English 102. We took this class to learn about Mass Communications and Media, not about how to write a bibliography. We need a Media teacher, not someone who tells us she will make up her own projects that have nothing to do with the work we have done so far. This is not what we signed up for.

I miss Mrs. Turner.