Yele Haiti

This always happens.

Almost every time I call or seek a trades person to give me an estimate on work, I don't receive a call back.

Everything is okey doke and genial on the phone, except when we get to the address part.

Then there's a pregnant pause, a very hurried confirmation, assurances that someone will call me back and a dial tone.

The estimate falls into a black hole.

As a matter of fact, I'm going through this very problem right now.

It's not that I have the money to embark on any home improvement projects right now but it would be nice to have an idea of what it might cost should the funds become available.

Unfortunately as a south sider, things just aren't that easy.

In light of Mr. O'Reilly's comments, he was simply saying what many other certainly already believe.

Why else would you not respond to an inquiry for new business in the middle of one of the worst recessions ever recorded?

Many incorrectly believe that the south side is a shit hole and beyond redemption.

Yet what Mr. O'Reilly and the rest of the south side's detractors fail to acknowledge is that the disinvestment and isolation are just now starting to thaw in our neighborhoods.

It's easy to point out everything wrong with the south side when you don't sit and take into consideration the decades of near political disenfranchisement, severe rationing of key public services, schools with defacto segregation and stark income inequality.

So yes, the south side has a long way to go before she's back to her former glory but the situation is not quite as dire as some would have you believe.

You know what though---I consider Mr. O'Reilly's statement to be more of a compliment than an insult.

Considering Chicago was founded by a Haitian, I am honored as a south sider to be held next to the can do spirit and ever lasting optimism of the Haitian people.

I know few people would could deal with the grinding poverty and lack of opportunities, loose over 100,000 of their fellow countrymen in a devastating natural disaster then summon the strength to sing at their darkest hour.

I am in awe of their resilience.

It makes bitching about getting a someone to show up to give you an estimate look meaningless in comparison.

Yele Haiti.

The Real Deal

Look who has another real estate based business venture.

Kool Aid

On occasion my neighbor Erin and I have serious discussions on what's wrong with this country.

While she sites Maroon 5 and Nickelback as prime causes, when I saw her yesterday I brought up a far more sinister force that is permeating our way of life.

Ladies and gentlemen, resist the Snuggie nation.

Billing itself as a blanket with sleeves, the American people have fallen for this ruse hook, line and sinker.

These abominations unto God are flying off the shelves like hotcakes.

At first I could ignore it like any other bad trend. Then recently I saw this horrific display in the front of the Walgreens at 67th and Stony Island.



Even Black people have taken a big gulp of the kool aid.

To quote Florida Evans, "Damn, damn, DAMN!"

When I asked the security guard if the evil Snuggies were selling briskly he said that they were. He even commented that he was considering getting one.

I guess the look on my face told him otherwise.

"So I shouldn't get one?" He asked.

"Ummm, no." I replied.

I then asked him what was wrong with the blankets that he already had at his house? He replied "But this is a blanket with sleeves. It's like I have a blanket on but it won't slip off when I walk around."

Damn player. How can you even begin to debate that slothful logic?

We're so lazy as a culture we can't even cover ourselves with a blanket. Now we have to take them everywhere?

I will say that if he expects any heat in the romance department, he best not be walking around in a Snuggie when his significant other is around.

'Cause if some man tried to rub up against me in a Snuggie I would inform him that until that thing is burned at the stake the candy store is closed.

Hell, the friction of all of that attempted rubbing might cause a spark which in turn would engulf the offending garment in flames.

Those things don't look too flame retardant.

Like all of the things I've instantly hated throughout the years----Pete Rose and Milli Vanilli just to name a few---I hope America wakes up before it's too late.

The Snuggie is the garment equivalent of having way too many cats.

You've been warned.

Beating A Dead Horse

It shouldn't be a shock to anyone that irresponsible absentee landlords own properties on the south side.

But celebrity irresponsible absentee landlords is somewhat of a news story.

To be accurate I should correctly state that Antoine Walker is not an absentee landlord but rather a celebrity investor or principal in two real estate investment companies.

Mr. Walker has had a rather tumultuous year.

It appears that his financial troubles have continued to reach into the Chicago real estate arena.

According to the Chicago Tribune Mr. Walker is "the target of more than a dozen lawsuits alleging poor management of numerous properties, unpaid debts and damages caused by shoddy repair work. In one case last month, the city won $950,000 in court-ordered fines against Walker Ventures."

The article further states that most of the legal issues stem from the alledged day to day mismanagement of the properties.

One of the self described "managing members" of the companies is also accused of "fraudulently collecting $10,000 in federally subsidized rent payments, though those actions are not connected to Walker Ventures or AW Realty."

Unfortnately this is nothing new to those of us who live here.

What stands out to me are two glaring issues.

It saddens me to see Black people victimizing other Black people yet again. But it easiest to make money off of those who are less likely to manipulate the system in their favor.

While race may play a roll in this, it's probably more of a class thing.

Who cares or pays attention to poor Black people?

Secondly, when are CHAC & HUD going to stop serving as piggy banks for anyone who signs up for the program?

It seems that once you pass your initial and annual inspections you have little reason other than money to keep up with the maintenance.

But yet the payments still continue.

Because until CHAC and HUD tighten up their policies, especially concerning condominium developments, the cash cow will continue.

And nothing will change.

But the south side will continue to get more of the same.

Droopy

The south side is awash in people carrying really bad knock off Coach purses.

The "Logo C" has been Coach's staple for almost ten years.

But it's everywhere---I'm sure you've seen it but may not have realized (or cared) about a logo on a purse.

Nonetheless, you know a purse is really popular when you see the bootleg guys on Chicago Avenue with the knock off almost immediately.

So I've seen the "Logo C" pretty much on everything.

Or so I thought.

As I was sitting on the bus with a gaggle of high school kids, I was counting the minutes until I could exit at my stop.

I believe one of Dante's levels of hell is a packed bus with high school kids.

That's when I saw it---the ultimate ghetto fab.

Young people wearing saggy pants showing their underwear is nothing new.

A young person wearing saggy pants shows his bootleg Coach "Logo C" briefs IS something new.

Jesus keep me near the cross.

Not only did I NOT need to see that but so much was going through my mind:

Who sags AND wear printed designer underwear? Is he just that label conscious or is he a gay thug?

Why would anyone want to show their underwear to the public if they're not LaPerla?

I guess I'm truly an adult.

Just Wondering

Jobs---Check.

A store full of fresh fruits and vegetables---Check.

Partnering in key community inititives---Check.

Tax Revenue---Check.

So why can't this Walmart get built?

Turn About

I really love where I live.

That feeling only heightens in the summer time.

Now you’ve heard me piss and moan about trash, my neighbors---both in and out of the association and crime.

And make no mistake all are important factors in the livability of a neighborhood.

But despite all of that, I thank my lucky stars that I actually live within a stone’s throw from the site of the 1893 Columbian Exposition.

The impact of the fair cannot only be read on the pages of The Devil In White City, but also in Jackson Park and it’s lagoons parked off of Lake Michigan.

And as one can expect, that park is teeming with wildlife.

At any given moment I can witness a hustler in the middle of Stony Island selling laundry bags and socks while traffic completely stops to let a family of geese cross.

The urban/suburban juxtaposition boggles the mind.

The fact that you can have an occasional drive by shooting and see a raccoon larger than a dog going through your trash can make for an interesting neighborhood balancing act.

Frankly I think the animals that live by our side are so used to us that they consider us the attraction.

They very well may think that they are living in an open air human habitat in a very large zoo.

Now that I’m the farmer in the ‘hood I get to see just how our wild four legged friends interact with urban gardens and golf balls.

Jackson Park Urban Garden, 2

Clean and green volunteers making signs.





Garden view of the golf course.

Jackson Park Urban Garden

Yes, we're just that close to the Jackson Park golf course.


The start of a new fence.


A young helper digging post holes.


My little "half acre."


The compost pile.

Inspiration

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

Shooting? What Shooting?

This foolishness has now crossed over into just plain stupidity.

At least the police were able to apprehend the suspects (finally).

I wonder if they happened to be in the right place at the right time and were able to give chase or if someone from the neighborhood gave a piece of vital information?

...And it ain't even warm yet.

The Farmer In The 'Hood

Guess who applied for a vegetable garden plot in the Jackson Park Urban Farm?

It's like a modern day Green Acres---I don't have to say goodbye to city life in order to scratch my country mouse itch.

If I get it, be prepared for rants against all forms of small animals---squirrels, possums, raccoons, rats---you name an animal and I'm sure I will have sworn a blood vengeance against it by the end of the summer.

Now to find a floppy straw hat.

Flying Under The Radar

Clearly I have not been paying attention to the goings on in the neighborhood.

It might have been because I was (am?) putting my life back together after 11 months of unemployment (Note: Not as easy as one would think).

Or it might have been the brutality of this slow moving winter and my knee injury.

Or it might have been because my head may have been firmly ensconced up my ass.

Either way, I had no clue that there was (is) a gang turf war in our little patch of heaven.

At least I didn’t know until it erupted on Monday night resulting in the shooting death of a 15 year old.

While the violence was a shock, I was fully prepared for the negative comments that usually accompany the subsequent Tribune and Sun-Times stories about the incident.

Luckily, the Tribune disabled the comments section by the time I had read the article.

Perhaps they already knew the caliber of commenter and simply disabled the ability to comment from the beginning.

No matter how you feel, someone’s child is dead.

While the consequences that led up to that fact are important, at the very least you should err on the side of respect.

Yes, I understand that some people cause their own problems.

But a majority of comments on articles about urban crime are mean and tip toe right up the line of being racist.

So it was with this in mind that I steeled myself after reading the Tribune’s article.

But it was all for naught.

I will say this to you who feel that “some people,” specifically black people, don’t care about the communities where they reside.

Let me preface my statements by affirming that while I may speak for myself, I also happen to know a huge swath of other black folks who feel as I do.

Yes, we care about where we live even though some may not think so.

Yes, we call the police.

In my experience the places that are usually the worst on the block are owned by either people who live in the suburbs or well meaning social service agencies.

Ironic, huh?

So the suburban neighbor that you so enthusiastically great each day may be the single largest contributing cause to crime in any given neighborhood.

Go cluck your tongue and pass your judgments on them.

Because lax tenant screening + credit requirements + non-resident management = a recipe for disaster.

But what do they care?

They keep on getting money that supports their comfortable lifestyles in their practically crime free neighborhoods.

And these well meaning social service agencies are no better.

I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth so I very much understand people needing help.

So I know that a lack of financial resources does make you or your family bad people.

Yet because of the fact you or your family may not have the time or the resources to mount a time consuming, draining protest about issues in your neighborhood doesn’t mean you don’t care.

In fact, that’s what I think some dubious people look for.

They look for the people who are the hardest pressed and will squawk the least.

‘Cause it’s a hell of a thing holding down multiple jobs and/or raising children and/or staying on the straight and narrow AND trying to get people to do right by your neighborhood.

Trying to get long time institutions to respect where you live.

Trying to get landlords to treat your neighborhood with the same consideration that they treat their neighborhoods.

Trying to uncover the maze of LLC’s who illegally convert rentals to condos and leave them when they run out of money.

Trying to get the police to pay real attention to those no good thugs on the corner.

It’s exhausting.

If you let it, it can drain your essence.

Trying to fix something that has been broken for a long time takes patience and resourcefulness.

Rome wasn’t built in a day.

That’s a pretty tall bill for working class people who may not be well versed in how the city that works really works.

For those of you who can’t see beyond race, look up how UIC got built and get back to me.

So when I see these cowards hide behind a comment section and spout off about “why those people in that neighborhood don’t do anything” I know they have no idea what they’re talking about.

Because I know that I care about where I live---my neighbors do too.

Some things just fly under the radar.

Number 29

Jesus.

And So It Begins

I was greeted by the sight of police tape as I was taking out the trash this evening.

This was not gonna be good.

Apparently the beefin' between young men who live south of us and the young men who stand on the corner of my street and Stony Island reached a violent conclusion a little after 4:00 PM today.

A young man was shot twice in the field behind my home.

I don't know the status of his condition. I can only hope that he survives.

A few neighbors said that he was a part of the Stony clique that hangs out down the street.

They also said that he was 15.

So the young men to the south of us are armed and I'll bet you that the young men from down the street are probably arming themselves now.

The end result is that all of the rest of us will be caught in the middle of a pitched battle.

One with no winners.

God, it's gonna be a long fucking summer.

Fractured Fairy Tale

There once was a lady who lived with her son on the south side of Chicago.

Unfortunately and unbeknownst to them, they lived in an apartment that had lead paint.

The exposure to the poison left the little boy with elevated lead levels in his blood.

So the lady left the building and moved to another place.

I can only assume to raise her child in the safest environment she could find and afford.

Unfortunately for her, the next place at 6959 South Paxton was no better than the first.

Or so the lawsuit allegeds (2008-L-005961).

Quadria Thomas and her son Danais Thomas are not only going after Merrill Square Cooperative and Quality Management Services---the first location; but also Carlton Knight and fellow defendants Walter Thomas and Theresa Thomas owners and/or property managers of the Paxton address.

Mr. Knight, Mr. & Ms. Thomas were the owners of the building where Ms. Thomas and her son “lawfully lived in and/or frequently visited an apartment in the said premises.”

I wish them luck.

I don’t think the esteemed lawyers of Conway & Conway know who they’re dealing with.

Even if they can prove that:

“…The said lead based paint to peel, flake, powder and otherwise deteriorate to the point where it could be and was ingested by the minor plaintiff;”
And…

“Caused other materials containing lead to be and remain on said premises and the apartment occupied by the plaintiffs, thereby creating a dangerous condition;”

And…

“Failed to warn the plaintiff’s parents and/or grandparents of the danger posed by the presence of lead on the said premises and/or apartment, though they knew that minor children were living on the premises.”

I’m mystified on how they’re going to get any type of financial relief.

I strongly suspect that legal shenanigans and delays will frustrate the plaintiffs and their lawyers.

And since a delayed payday is never on a lawyer’s agenda (or at least any lawyer I know), it’s within the realm of possibility that the plaintiffs may be dropped by their legal representative(s).

Leaving them up the creek without a paddle.

But when you think about it, would you really blame the lawyers?

You have a case constantly delayed with little if any chance of finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow what would you do?

But I hope against hope that’s not gonna happen.

Because if anyone needs to fight out a lawsuit, it needs to be on behalf of a little boy who’s very sick and was injured through no fault of his own.

I’m hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

Church Lady Mafia

They may go by a different name in your neck of the woods but I know you've seen them.

In my world, the nice ladies who ride my Metra line are generally quite, considerate and keep to themselves.

They tend to read the Bible or similar inspirational tracts that they received in church.

All in all a very picturesque scene.

Until you sit in a seat that was meant for their friend.

For those of us who know how it works---those of us who ride a commuter train 5 days a week, it is essential that you know your role.

It's essential that you know who reads, who sleeps, who puts their makeup on and who likes to "spread out."

If you take the train seat of one of the SSCLM, that's your ass.

SSCLM is short for the south side church lady mafia.

No harsh words are spoken, no voices are raised.

One look is all it takes.

For the most part you should already know your role.

If you're a regular, you have a tad more standing. Slight infractions might be overlooked.

But if you're repeat offender----It will get ugly real fast.

Real, real fast.

Truth Tellin'

It’s time for some truth telling.

I’ve been noticing some things while walking around the ‘hood and it’s time to call it like I see it.

Traditionally, we all know Black neighborhoods in Chicago have been largely ignored by local government.

This shouldn’t be news.

Yet the thing that chaps my hide is how some people just don’t respect their own neighborhood. How they’ll just throw trash just any which-a-way.

Frankly speaking it just pisses me off.

You practically have to pull teeth around these parts to get people (or institutions) to do right.

I’m sorry, strike that----my alderman is a rock star.

Leslie Hairston is a huge reason why our little stretch of paradise looks as good as it does. And truth be told I’d wager Alderman Cochran has chimed in a time of two to make the magic happen.

I don’t know for sure but I’m just saying…

Nonetheless, no measure of governmental involvement can lift people out of a “ghetto mentality.”

Hell, yeah I said it.

Because that’s only way I can explain why someone who actually lives on my street would turn the parkway into their own personal trash can.

I don’t get why it’s so difficult for some people to pick up after themselves.

Then of course these are probably the same people who think its okay not to know where their children are at any given time.

We all know how successful that philosophy worked out around here.

My point is that when something goes wrong in the ‘hood the wailing and gnashing of teeth begin.

Community activists come out of the wood work and “demand” governmental accountability.

Well I have a news flash for you.

Why don’t those activists as well those members of the community hold each other accountable?
Why don’t we speak out as voraciously against shitty landlords who don’t perform adequate tenant background checks and rent to anyone with enough money (or government subsidy) that can afford their rent?

Why don’t we take the fight to them in their comfortable neighborhood as they make money off of ours?

And here’s the tough one.

Why don’t we try to convince the nice lady who lives down the street that her no account grandchildren who live with her do more harm than good to the neighborhood.

You know what I’m talking about.

Despite the fact no one wants to publically admit it, there’s always a home (or homes) on the block that harbors those asshole, layabouts who leech off of a family member and single handedly contribute to rise of crime.

Who bring their bootleg ghetto ass friends along with them and their collection of bad habits.

And when I say bad habits I mean felonious behavior.

I’m not advocating being unnecessarily nosy in people’s affairs but when the situation warrants questioning the status quo, you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable to do so.

After all closed mouths don’t get feed and bullets seemingly never hit their itended targets.

Turning a blind eye to the blatant foolishness that’s going on may one day come back to bite you in ass.

I know it’s not easy.

Nobody wants to be labeled as the self righteous Gladys Kravitz of the block.

But in this “Stop Snitching” atmosphere, perhaps it’s time to go back to some good old fashion community standards.

No I’m no going all conservative on you.

Then of course I don’t think our conservative friends have cornered the market on values and standards.

And no I could give a shit what two (or more) consenting adults choose to do in privacy of their home.

As long it doesn’t attract a negative illegal element.

As you see it’s a slippery slope.

My negative element could be your set of best friends.

The qualifier here is illegal. That’s the whole shooting match---if you’ll forgive the pun.

Ladies and gentlemen we’ve got to do better.

We must either individually or collectively hold those who seek to continue to marginalize our neighborhood accountable for their actions.

We have to want better neighbors who mind their children, throw their trash in the proper receptacles and live law abiding lives.

It’s not enough to hold an anti violence march.

We have to do better.

So the next time you’re up in arms at a CAPS meeting or find yourself thinking that the police aren’t doing enough to keep your neighborhood safe you need to reflect on what you’ve done to improve or eliminate a problems that surround you.

At the very least, you should at least be truthful with yourself.

To The Market I Go

These are the sights I see when I go to the Woodlawn Farmer's market on Saturdays.


Once I hit Dorchester I pass by Apostolic Church. The flowers in the parking medians are just the living end.



As I keep on heading north on Dorchester, around 62nd Street, I was struck by how nice the lawn looked at this house.

So I keep on walking north until I hit 61st Street and the sign welcoming me to the Woodlawn Farmer's Market.

Yeah we don't have alot of booths---yet. Hope springs eternal for next year though.

Crepes in Woodlawn? Who knew?

Tomato Mountain Farms organic Habanero Salsa. If you like hot, I strongly suggest you pick up a jar. It's fire.

Bleeding Heart Bakery. I love them. Their Goat Cheese and Basil croissants are the shit. I wish they would come to the market every week.

Hopefully our little market will be teeming with vendors in '09. Woodlawn needs more fruits, vegetables and flowers too.

So Much For The Peace and Quiet

These motherfuckers have lost their everlovin' minds.

The question in my mind is if you know that your presence on the corner might draw gunfire, why do you stand there?

When I went out to purchase detergent from the corner store (Dan Allan in the WGN piece is the owner) on Monday night, I reminded myself to get there before 8:50 as the store closes at 9:00.

Why?

'Cause I didn't want to be there during the last ten minutes of the business day---that's when stick up guys tend to rob places.

Of course I also passed the horde of teenagers and young people that congregate on and near the corner where the shooting occured.

I will start putting in calls during my lunch hour today to find out who's who and what's what.

If we don't get a handle on all of this violence, the only thing Chicago's gonna get is kicked in our overfed Midwestern asses, not the Olympics.

Motherfuckers.