60

Yes, that's the year John F. Kennedy was elected President.

And as luck would have it, it’s also the ranking my humble offerings were given by the Chicago Media Workshop’s report titled “Journalism We Want and Need.”

I’m wanted and needed? I feel very valued right about now.

You can find my blurb on page 19.

Chanting “I’m number 60!” doesn’t have the same ring as “I’m number 1!”

But sometimes you can't put a price on being wanted AND needed.

Eye In The Sky

I noticed a new addition to the 63rd Street Metra commuting experience this morning: The platform is now equipped with security cameras.

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

As usual, I was running for the train when I saw a metal pipe-like structure attached to one of the wooden lamp posts. Imagine my surprise when at the end of the pipe I spied the unblinking eye of a camera.



Though I haven’t walked the platform to confirm it, there are probably cameras in plain sight of all four entrances to the station.

That suspicion was nearly confirmed as I looked across the way on the south bound platform and saw another camera pointing at its south entrance.

The scuttlebutt is that Metra in conjunction with Apostolic Church, had the cameras installed.

After all, the rapist still hasn’t been caught and the platform, stairwells and viaduct are extremely dark and isolated during the daytime much less at night.

While I welcome the cameras, I wonder if they’re monitored---If so, by whom? Dose this mean that they’re may be an emergency call box somewhere in our future?

If the scuttlebutt is true, it’s nice to see public and private entities working together to achieve a common goal.

Now I have to be careful if I have a “wardrobe malfunction” and go to correct the problem.

Unlike this crazy YouTube generation, there are just some things that just don’t need to be caught on camera

Dodge Ball

The bad news is that I’m still losing my job.

The countdown continues.

The good news is that I’ve renegotiated my mortgage (*again*) where I now pay $300 less a month.

Believe it or not, my mortgage is near what it was when I first moved in 2001.

While that frees up money, it would be nice if I continued to have a steady source of income.

Reducing instead of increasing debt would be welcome right about now.

My roller coaster life would kill a lesser person.

Oh. My. God.

First we had to see this:




Then we had this:




And as of Friday, finally this:






Nice, eh? But based on past behavior, will they water the lawn so the turf takes to it's new home?

Now will the building be condos or rentals? Affordable? subsidized? market rate? If the building goes condo, will parking be factored into the equation? Who will market the property?

More importantly, who's the developer?

This story is moving forward (with a nice lawn might I add) but still developing.

Inspiration

This person is one of the reasons why I keep on titling at windmills.

Ms. Viola

It’s rare that I meet a person and automatically feel their goodness.

Perhaps you could argue that people will rise or fall to your expectations; if you look for the worst in people, that’s what you’ll find.

Or you could argue that the world is full of assholes.

Whichever philosophy you espouse one thing is clear----good people tend to stick out in our modern society.

Such is the case of Ms. Viola.

Ms. Viola is the coordinator of the Angel Food Ministries program at St. Thomas Episcopal Church.

You know, the Black Episcopalians who are feeding me.

When I discovered Angel Food and went to make my first purchase, Ms. Viola welcomed me like a long lost relative.

Not only was she warm, but when I didn’t have enough money to get one of the additional boxes she arranged to get one for me.

I didn’t know this woman from Adam and she was asking me what I needed.

Naturally I couldn’t impose on this nice lady.

I told her that it was okay, that I’d get an additional box next month. She replied that “Donations happen all the time. Just tell me what you want.”

It’s been a long time since a stranger has been nice to me.

I’m a “wait for the other shoe to drop” type of broad.

The defenses are usually up. The wall is set.

I know it’s not fashionable to say that you look for the ugly side of people’s personalities but I’ve always been truthful with you gentle readers and more importantly myself.

Nonetheless, I started to tear up at such sheer kindness.

I just adore that woman.

And because I adore this woman (and am in desperate need additional parental figures), I have a favor to ask.

St. Thomas Episcopal Church has been serving the needs of its worshipers and the Bronzeville neighborhood for over 120 years.

Their original church burned down in 1962 but they managed to carry on their ministry at the parish house until the new church was built near the intersection of 38th and Wabash.

The parish house is a beautiful but neglected jewel in a re-emerging neighborhood.

In fact, it’s next to the Margaret Burroughs house----you know the founder of the Dusable Museum of African American history.

The remaining old homes in the neighborhood are quite breathtaking and in various states of repair.

Such is the case of the St. Thomas parish house.

From what I’ve been told, this beautiful old girl was victim of some unscrupulous contractors and handymen.

In fact, part of the beautiful banister was allegedly stolen by a bootleg contractor around 17 years ago.

He took the banister from the first floor to part of the second floor and replaced it with horrible wrought iron fencing.

Yes, you read correctly----wrought iron fencing in a 100 plus year old house.

Don’t get me started on the dropped ceilings (Ick!) and other monstrosities done by “reputable” contractors.

In short the good folks of St. Thomas and Ms. Viola need to find the funds to restore the parish house to its former glory.

And before you all start asking why can’t they pay for their own repairs, I have a simple answer----‘cause they don’t have the money.

As someone who lives in an older building, I personally know how tough it is to find the money to handle repairs much less make improvements.

Keeping the lights and water on is usually a task within itself much less trying to do accurate (and expensive) historical restoration.

I know one of you has to know something about securing grants for restoration.

I know someone out there can help.

Just tell me how.

He Already Had Me With His Cinnamon Rolls

It's not like I wasn't a Tom Tunney fan already.

Prior to being the alderman of the 44th ward, he was the very public face of the Ann Sather's restaurant on Belmont.

Many a time I'd stop off after work too tired to cook, too hungry to wait and too poor to buy groceries. Methinks Mr. Tunney recognized all three and would slip a sister a complimentary bread plate to go along with my vegetable soup.

'Cause you know bread ain't free when you only order a cup of soup.

He was kind enough to chat as well. To make me feel welcome despite the fact I was spending less than five dollars (with tip).

As you can see I've never forgotten the gesture.

So it should come as no surprise that as the Alderman Tunney is leading the way to forge a set of behaviors and practices for developer/neighborhood relations.

Behold another aldermanic rock star.

Set, Match...

It took almost two years but it is finally over.

The third party judgment against the association has been vacated by the city. We are now officially not holding the bag for Carlton Knight’s responsibilities.

Well at least for this one.

Like Babe Ruth Mr. Money Bags came through and delivered on his called shot---the issue was indeed cleared up before Christmas. Specifically December 21st.

Because Mr. Money Bags is all that and a bag of chips, a handwritten thank you note was promptly put in the post.

‘Cause I’m a classy broad like that.

Reflection

Yesterday I neglected to give a shout out to some very ordinary people who have (and had) done extra ordinary things, in some very uncomfortable places with some very unfriendly people.

Memorial Day just isn't the start of the summer and an excuse for me to work like one of Pharaoh’s slaves in the kitchen.

It's a time to truly reflect and thank those of you who have served and are serving so the rest of us have little to worry about except our bootleg developers.

I'm quite sure there are people on the face of this planet who wished they had my problems. Hell, I'd be willing to bet that some women can't even own property much less complain about it's condition.

This Brie eating and Chardonnay swilling southsider salutes you.

A Piece Of The Puzzle

It occurred to me that I’m leaving an important part of the porch story.

Let me give you kids some perspective.

Now this may not be true for everyone who lives on the south side of Chicago but I’ve found it to be true based on my four scant years down here.

It’s easier to find a senior class virgin in a Chicago public high school than to get fairly priced, quality contractors to bid on any type of construction projects on the south side of Chicago.

I only wish I was exaggerating about this.

You can speak with people about estimates and the like but the moment you give them your address either they don’t show up or all of a sudden their schedule “is full.” The unfortunate side effect of these actions are that if you live on the south side and don’t have access to people that know others in the building trades---you’re left at the mercy of “contractors” who generally advertise on telephone poles.

In short you’re screwed.

I’m not saying that contractors who advertise on telephone poles (sometimes with hand printed signs) are any less qualified than contractors who you find from friends or in the phone book, but it’s been my experience that it’s difficult to check references, licensing and possible litigation with the telephone guys.

That goes ditto for those jokers who pester you in the parking lot and the store at Home Depot.

“Excuse me Miss, do you need a reliable contractor, carpenter or painter? If so, I’m your man.”

So why exactly would I let a man into my house that I don’t know to do work that he may or may not be qualified to do? Can you spell dumbass?

A friend that works for the local phone company tells me that he knows several trades people who won’t even take estimates or bids in the city, much less the south side, because they’ve had bad experiences getting tools or vehicles stolen. He also cited several incidences of workpeople being assaulted.

In short we got quite the bad rep down here in our little slice of the world.

To underscore this fact, I tried to have a contractor give me an estimate to replace my tub and shower backsplash with this super groovy glass mosaic tile sometime this spring. After two appointments, no one from the company showed up. They didn’t even bother to call or anything.

Now that would only be par for the course around here but this lead came from a client/contractor matching service that I’ve belonged to for several years. All of my information, including my address, was already a part of my profile. If they simply didn’t want to come to the city or the south side all they had to do was not to respond to my call for contractors.

Pretty simple concept---jackasses.

While the Porch People have been great so far in terms of responsiveness and price, I will continue keeping my fingers crossed until the last nail has been hammered.

Nonetheless man about town, marathon runner, devoted husband and real estate professional James Lackland goes on the list of “peeps with props” who’s advice was instrumental to me in this whole porch process.

Giving Thanks

When I look back on this past year it’s difficult to believe that as an association we’ve been able to achieve so much in so short a time.

If you’ve been reading this blog you already know the stories. In a nutshell, we’ve turned this ship around and charted a course for (hopefully) smoother waters.

Our achievements are also a testament to the collective power of the group.

Seeing that this is the end of the year and the usual amount of pat on the back retrospectives abound, I only feel it fitting to give some shout outs to all of my neighbors who either served on the association board or who volunteered for maintenance duty.

I also want to give props to my neighbors who sat in monthly meeting after monthly meeting and took an active interest in the management of their home.

Much love to everyone who graciously donated extra time and/or supplies to the multitude of important but minor projects.

We really are rock stars.

Who in Pete’s name would of thought that we would made it (part way) through the fire?