For those of you not as fortunate to live in the city let me in on what you’re missing this weekend:
Loolapalooza
Kayne, Common, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Matisyahu AND the heat wave has broken. Why wouldn’t you want to be here?
Tall Ships Chicago
It was super awesome to watch them come into Navy Pier yesterday. I walked around saying “Aaargh” all night. I also had an overwhelming impulse to buy a parrot.
North Halsted Market Days
Gay, Gay, Gay, Gay, Gay. But there’s (literally) something for everyone at one of the largest summer street fairs in the city. Since the neighborhood is rapidly gentrifying young families with children are now more than ever in the mix. Market Days usually means I need to start shopping for winter hats (don’t ask)
Retro on Roscoe
Street fair extraordinaire in the Roscoe Village neighborhood. You know how we live for our street fairs here in the city.
Did I mention that the heat wave broke and now being outside is much nicer?
Showing posts with label Leisure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leisure. Show all posts
Friday, August 04, 2006
The Barbeque
Once a summer, we as an association pick a date and have a barbeque in our back courtyard.
It’s a great opportunity to sit down with the neighbors and chat.
Everyone is usually going in so many different directions that we rarely see each other.
The barbeque was discussed at our June meeting and boy were the plans grandiose.
Flyers were supposed to go up to notify everyone in our association in plenty of time. Plans were made to invite other condo associations in the neighborhood.
For whatever reason none of that happened.
So as usual, no one knew if the barbeque was still on or if it had been postponed. Different people were giving different answers.
Actually that’s not entirely true.
Our association lawyer received an e-mail letting him know that he was invited to the festivities.
The rest of us got no notification whatsoever.
Okay, fine---that’s par for the course with my condo association.
That wasn’t the kicker---the kicker was what one of the board members had to say to me.
Board Member: “You said that you’d take us out for dinner if we ever got money out of the (real estate) management companies.”
Me: “I did?”
Board Member: “Yes you did.”
This person went on to talk about how much money has come in from the real estate management/mortgage company owners of the foreclosed upon units.
Insinuating that I basically quit the board for no good reason and I had no idea what I was talking about.
I just looked at this individual like they had a third eye in the middle of their head.
I let them prattle on but managed to insert a one question:
Me: “So you’re telling me that the real estate management/mortgage company paid all of the back assessments owed for the unit(s)? Even the portion they were responsible for?”
Board Member: “No.”
Me: “Oh, I just wanted to be clear on what you’re telling me.”
Selective memory is a bitch in this heat so I’m sure this person failed to remember this little ditty I sent upon my resignation.
I never said that as an association that we weren’t going to collect any money, I said that it was unethical to attempt to stick someone with a bill that’s not rightfully theirs.
Moreover the execution of association financial business was astoundingly slow.
But don’t get me started down that road.
Instead referencing the facts and mucking up this person’s reality, I tied up the conversation in a nice neat bow by saying:
“Well I think it’s just great that we’re on firmer financial footing. Money coming in can never be a bad thing.”
Now wasn’t that so good of me? I didn’t even break a sweat.
I turned to the person next to me and engaged them in conversation. All the while sipping on the champagne I brought with me for just such an emergency.
It’s a great opportunity to sit down with the neighbors and chat.
Everyone is usually going in so many different directions that we rarely see each other.
The barbeque was discussed at our June meeting and boy were the plans grandiose.
Flyers were supposed to go up to notify everyone in our association in plenty of time. Plans were made to invite other condo associations in the neighborhood.
For whatever reason none of that happened.
So as usual, no one knew if the barbeque was still on or if it had been postponed. Different people were giving different answers.
Actually that’s not entirely true.
Our association lawyer received an e-mail letting him know that he was invited to the festivities.
The rest of us got no notification whatsoever.
Okay, fine---that’s par for the course with my condo association.
That wasn’t the kicker---the kicker was what one of the board members had to say to me.
Board Member: “You said that you’d take us out for dinner if we ever got money out of the (real estate) management companies.”
Me: “I did?”
Board Member: “Yes you did.”
This person went on to talk about how much money has come in from the real estate management/mortgage company owners of the foreclosed upon units.
Insinuating that I basically quit the board for no good reason and I had no idea what I was talking about.
I just looked at this individual like they had a third eye in the middle of their head.
I let them prattle on but managed to insert a one question:
Me: “So you’re telling me that the real estate management/mortgage company paid all of the back assessments owed for the unit(s)? Even the portion they were responsible for?”
Board Member: “No.”
Me: “Oh, I just wanted to be clear on what you’re telling me.”
Selective memory is a bitch in this heat so I’m sure this person failed to remember this little ditty I sent upon my resignation.
I never said that as an association that we weren’t going to collect any money, I said that it was unethical to attempt to stick someone with a bill that’s not rightfully theirs.
Moreover the execution of association financial business was astoundingly slow.
But don’t get me started down that road.
Instead referencing the facts and mucking up this person’s reality, I tied up the conversation in a nice neat bow by saying:
“Well I think it’s just great that we’re on firmer financial footing. Money coming in can never be a bad thing.”
Now wasn’t that so good of me? I didn’t even break a sweat.
I turned to the person next to me and engaged them in conversation. All the while sipping on the champagne I brought with me for just such an emergency.
Friday, July 21, 2006
It's a Hootenanny!
The association cookout is supposedly tomorrow. This ought to be a good one. Details to follow.
Monday, July 10, 2006
97% Meets 3%
An open invitation to ChiKat.
It's time for you and the husband to come over and have Bloody Mary's and Vodka Lemonades on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I believe it's time for us to meet.
We can talk gardening, crazy neighborhood characters and Woodlawn.
You can throw me an e-mail. Let's make it happen.
Woody
It's time for you and the husband to come over and have Bloody Mary's and Vodka Lemonades on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I believe it's time for us to meet.
We can talk gardening, crazy neighborhood characters and Woodlawn.
You can throw me an e-mail. Let's make it happen.
Woody
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Spot On
I’ll be damned if I didn’t see several cricket games going in Washington Park a few Sundays ago.
Talk about jaw on the floor.
Snappily dressed people of color---at first glance I thought everybody was black---in crisp white uniforms will grab your attention. I later discovered that the urban cricket players were mostly expatriates from Her Majesty’s Commonwealth; mainly Indians, Pakistanis, West Indians and Africans.
I couldn’t even begin to make this one up.
Cricket on the south side of Chicago? Next thing you know the Jenkins’ Boys will be mixing up Gin and Tonics between games.
As if that weren’t enough, I found that the croquet and lawn bowling peeps have their own little set---complete with a clubhouse mind you---in the shadow of the Museum of Science and Industry.
Between the bird watchers in the Osaka gardens and the Anglo sports enthusiasts, the hood is looking less and less ghetto fabulous the longer I live here.
Perhaps that's it---Woodlawn is uping the ante for ghetto fabulousness.
Jesus, I feel like I’m in the blacksploitation version of a Merchant-Ivory film.
Talk about jaw on the floor.
Snappily dressed people of color---at first glance I thought everybody was black---in crisp white uniforms will grab your attention. I later discovered that the urban cricket players were mostly expatriates from Her Majesty’s Commonwealth; mainly Indians, Pakistanis, West Indians and Africans.
I couldn’t even begin to make this one up.
Cricket on the south side of Chicago? Next thing you know the Jenkins’ Boys will be mixing up Gin and Tonics between games.
As if that weren’t enough, I found that the croquet and lawn bowling peeps have their own little set---complete with a clubhouse mind you---in the shadow of the Museum of Science and Industry.
Between the bird watchers in the Osaka gardens and the Anglo sports enthusiasts, the hood is looking less and less ghetto fabulous the longer I live here.
Perhaps that's it---Woodlawn is uping the ante for ghetto fabulousness.
Jesus, I feel like I’m in the blacksploitation version of a Merchant-Ivory film.
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