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.

Cock Starz, Part 2

All quiet on the western front.

There wasn't a wayward car, stripper or over stimulated party girl in sight Sunday night.

Methinks the message may have FINALLY gotten through.

Just Planted

Despite the fact that I live two blocks away from the urban garden, I'm still getting the hang of turning on the water supply from the golf course, ducking flying balls and not watering the veg so late that it's dark by the time you put the hose away and lock up.

I love our little patch of heaven but I ain't trying to get caught in a secluded grove of trees off a non-fenced golf course that's in a Chicago public park.

That's a recipe for a really bad time.

In fact, when I was watering last Tuesday about a 1/2 hour before the sun went down I noticed that random men were popping up on the golf course---without golf clubs and on the path surrounding the garden.

Creepy.

Unfortunately my time to water is limited as early in the morning isn't an option while I still have a job.

And no, there's nothing new to report on that front. Once I have news, I'll let you know.

Why do you think I'm trying to grow my own tomatoes, bell peppers and collard greens?

Anyhoo...

The potential for something very bad to happen back there is a real possibility so I always carry my cell phone and look for other people either jogging or on the golf course. So I try to very much stay aware of my surroundings while indulging my urban gardening steez.

Keep good gardening vibes coming my way. Keep your fingers crossed that a bounty is only a few months away.

Enjoy the pictures below.

Batty Batty Batty

After having a rare Saturday night off, I woke yesterday morning intent on doing chores.

Number one on the list was to start with the front porch.

I had filled up paper bags with stuff from the day before and was transferring them to the back porch to finally go to the alley.

The first bag---no problem.

But when I picked up the second bag, a loud and aggressive hiss came from whatever was under it.

Startled, I did what any self respecting feminist would do.

I screamed like a little girl, turned tail and ran into the house.

Sad, but true.

Perplexed, I went about my chores until I screwed up the courage to see what exactly was hissing at me.

Courage being my middle name (*ha!*) I opened up the window that leads to the front porch, opened it and took the broom handle and once again lifted the overflowing trash bag.

What revealed was an uglier version of a mouse with rougher looking fur.

Ladies and Gentlemen I believe I had found a bat.

This time he didn’t hiss at me so I assumed that he was dying.

My burning question was why a bat had suddenly appeared incapacitated on my front porch?

Despite their blindness, bats have built in sonar so it’s not like their going to slam into wall, objects or people.

Furthermore, they tend to avoid people and sunlight.

I could only deduce that Mr. (or Ms.) Bat might be infected with rabies.

Now I was tempted to let Mr. Puss out to make short work of the beast but the ensuing vet bill if the bat was infected gave me pause.

All I need is for my crazy cat to become rabid. He already has a questionable disposition.

The only reason why he hasn’t cut me is because I have opposable thumbs and can open his food.

So a few more hours pass and my intent was to scoop up the dead bat and throw him over the side where I imagine some neighborhood scavengers would take care of him.

But when I went to check on his whereabouts, he had moved.

@%^&*#$?!

I hoped he had taken flight and left me alone.

When I went to reach for the trash bag and disturbed some of the other stuff on the porch, that hiss told me otherwise.

*Cue Woody screaming and running like a little girl (again)*

It was time to call 311 (The City of Chicago’s non-emergency help line) for animal control.

While I missed them the first time, they did come within the hour and were quite courteous and helpful.

The ladies (yes, ladies---I felt so ashamed) popped in and scooped up Mr. Bat within 5 minutes.

They agreed with me that the beast was acting strange and they wouldn’t be surprised if it had rabies.

Their next concern was Mr. Puss’ exposure to the bat; as they were prepared to take him in as well.

I told them he rarely went out on the porch and had not been out on the porch yesterday.

After taking some additional information, they gave me a slip and said if the beast tested positive someone would call me within 72 hours and follow up with me.

So while I ran like a girl and immediately thought of how a man should help me; to my credit I did contact the proper authorities who in turn handled the situation with promptness and professionalism.

And they didn’t laugh at me.

Even though I had some laughable behavior.

With all the waste you hear about concerning the City of Chicago, at least you know that your dollars are being wisely spent at Animal Control.

I can stare a wannabe gang banger down like nobody’s business but a bat can make me his (or her) bitch.

Woody, redefining irony everyday.

Club Honey

I received this text on Saturday from one of my neighbors:

"I think there is something going on at the Metro Club. Gave some ladies directions to 'Club Honeys' at 1445 East XXth Street."

Yet when I came home the street wasn't mobbed with cars.

Odd.

The reason made itself apparent when I was walking to the train yesterday morning:



Is this lasting progress?

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.

Here Comes The Judge, Part 2

I just don’t get the Honorable William Pileggi.

He seems like the real deal.

He’s cosigned on common sense initiatives and has even received an award from Neighborhood Housing Services.

From what I’ve been able to find on the web and glean from my lawyer friends, Judge Pileggi is okey doke.

He seems like a jurist who will put some bite and muscle into the maze of building codes in our fair city.

This makes his rulings concerning the property at 1512-1514 E. Marquette and Mr. Knight all the more troubling.

Court records indicate that on numerous occasions Judge Pileggi has given Mr. Knight more than enough time to comply with the City’s order.

My question is why was he granted so many chances?

If I can find the numerous actions filed against Carlton Knight in Cook County court system, surely he can as well.

One would think that those records alone would serve as a litmus test of Mr. Knight’s actions & behaviors.

Clearly I’m in the minority on this one.

As a result case number 2007-M1-402799 has been dragging out since October 4th of 2007.

But as I was recently mulling over the judges’ actions, I took a gander across the way and saw something miraculous.

A brand new porch.

Maybe it’s because I rarely look out of my back window or raise the shade. Perhaps with the sun rising earlier and setting later, it gave me an extended opportunity to gaze across the way.

Whatever the reason, that looks like new porch construction to me.

If the porch is new, I would be the first to tell you that I have no clue why Mr. Knight would all of a sudden comply with the city’s order.

I could offer up any number of theories but it would be a waste of both blog space and your time.

The bottom line is that the porch was built.

Now whether it’s up to code is the city’s call.

Inspiration

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

Development Update?

The old fence has been removed from the front of the building and looking through the window, any passerby on the street can see a visible ceiling fan box.

This begs a couple of questions:

Is the building going condo or not?

Whatever it's fate, when will the construction be completed?

When, for the love of God, is the landscaping portion of the rennovation gonna happen? Overgrown grass and weeds are NOT attractive.

And last but not least...

They must have great security to leave a pricey looking ceiling fan box visible in the window. Normally that serves as a red flag to theives who prey on construction sites.

Developing...

Here Comes The Judge

You may be a little shocked to discover this but there is more than one questionable real estate developer in the city of Chicago.

I know---who'd thunk it, right?

And because the great city of Chicago is so vast, it’s been my experience that if you want something done you’re gonna have to get off your can and let the appropriate people know.

Appropriate people = government officials = the City of Chicago & the State of Illinois.

But as most of you know, that’s easier said than done.

Nonetheless, if you’re like me, you’ll tilt at windmills until you finally find the correct parties.

You know---the people who will listen to you AND do something about your plight.

That’s the route my concerns about Mr. Knight’s real estate development took to the Corporation Counsel’s Department.

That the nice way of saying the city’s law department.

It took a long time to find someone who would listen.

And when I found someone who would listen they’d get transferred to a different division or promoted.

Then I’d have to start over again with a new person.

Then the dance would begin again.

I would have to explain my issue with our development. Why it’s pointless to sue Mr. Knight despite overwhelming evidence that the “renovations” weren’t up to code.

But eventually, someone from the city did listen---and care.

They took up the banner in light of some egregious and flagrant revelations about Mr. Knight’s development practices. While it might be too late for our association (unless we find his money), perhaps someone else can be spared the same drama.

Successfully navigating the infrastructure that is the City of Chicago is a full time job in and of itself.

Getting someone to care and act is something I truthfully didn’t anticipate happening.

But it did.

So if the city feels that they have merit to drag Mr. Knight into court, why does one judge in particular feel the need to keep on giving him break after break?

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.

You Want To Know Why They're So Much Better Than You?

A small aside to athletic opponents of Mt. Carmel High School.

You want to know why they're always so good in so many sports? It's because they're up practicing when everyone else is in bed.

When I have to work early and leave the house before 6:00 AM, I notice that the lights in the new field house are on and there are people inside engaging in physical activity.

Or at least that's what I think is going on.

All while I can barely keep my eyes open schlepping to the train.

That my friends, is some crazy stuff.

That my friends, is dedication.

So the next time your team is getting ground in the dust by the Caravan, you'll know the reason why.

The Disappeared

I knew the minute I patted myself of the back about making progress, something catastrophic would happen.

This time was no exception.

Wednesday was a bloody and brutal day at the place where I work.

95% percent of my department as well as 9 other people from our location were laid off in a precise and efficient manner.

That’s if you’re looking at it from a corporate perspective.

If you choose to take the human view of things, you may have a different opinion.

Instead of retelling Wednesday’s bloodletting, I’ll tell you how my previous employer went about the process in the summer of 2007.

My whole group was notified 60 days out that our department was being eliminated and that we had that time to post internally.

Everyone and their mother knew that unless you had the in” with peeps from another department, you weren’t going anywhere.

But at least we had 60 days to wrap our head around what was going to happen, make financial arrangements, dust of the resume, clean out our desk and say our goodbyes to our work friends.

In short we had closure.

Now I know with people and things being what they are these days, you have to look out for #1.

No entity embodies this philosophy better than corporate America.

You don’t know if someone is going to screw with your internal systems or if they’re going to walk in with a gun and shoot the place up.

The world is a scary place.

That being said, it’s difficult enough to try to figure out your next move when you have 60 days notice. Imagine being called from your desk one minute and the next you’re being handed your severance package---if you’re lucky.

That might just screw with your head.

The flip side of the coin is that you’re good enough to secure employment and trusted enough to be granted access to a secure office in a secure building; it’s ironic in a manner of a half an hour you have someone looking over your shoulder watching you clean out your desk.

That’s some cold shit.

But you’re probably wondering, what does this mean for Woody?

That, my friends, has yet to be determined.

Progress

The back property taxes have been paid and my special assessment is now a distant memory.

Getting rid of debt is painfully slow but things are getting better.

A toast to progress.

Cock Starz

Exotic revues abound in Woodlawn but common sense seems to be in short supply.

It makes one ponder if the social service organization that owns the building knows about this foolishness?

Barter System

The paint job in my condo looks like a bag of ass.

Then of course it started looking like a bag of ass about the first anniversary of my move in date.

As I'm sure you can imagaine, a lot of high quality finishes went into our conversion. The paint job was no exception.

(Tounge placed firmly in cheek)

And while I like the colors I choose, I long for something new and exciting.

Becuase if you have a smudge on your wall it might be nice to wash it off without taking a large portion of the paint with it in the process.

So I want to paint my place but there are two glaring issues.

1. I'm not the best painter. I tried to paint my kitchen years ago and the efforts didn't exactly turn out House Beautiful worthy.

2. Money ain't exactly flowing around here so paying someone isn't in the game plan.

So I have a proposition---let's barter.

If you need a containter garden put down and can paint---high quality, I might add---then I think we might be able to help each other.

You'll advise me on materials, I'll advise you on materials.

You'll shop with me, I'll shop with you.

You'll paint and help me learn the skill, I'll plant and you'll get the hang of it in no time.

And when I say "help me learn the skill" and "you'll get the hang of it in no time" what I really mean is I'll plant and you'll paint and neither of will really want to learn the opposite skill.

'Cause if you really wanted to plant and I really wanted to paint, we would of learned how to do it by now, right?

But it's nice to aspire.

So if you're game, I'm game.

I'm not a master gardener but I have had some luck putting down well received container gardens for myself and others.

Because in today's economic reality, knowledge and know how may very well be better than money.

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.

Passive Aggressive

I recently had a long overdue conversation with a lovely neighbor who also happens to be a new mother.

Not only are her real life I-just-had-a-baby stories eye opening, but they are Hilarious.

Laugh out loud, breaking into coughing fits HI-LAR-IOUS.

So because she has a new baby, a husband, and various animals around the house, I figure I'm not going to add to the burden by fulfiling my requirment as the "wacky neighbor down the street."

Dropping in unanounced when you're trying to put down a fussy baby may not lead to further social invitations.

Luckily a few days ago I had the priviledge to speak to the little mother and catch up on life and all things Woodlawn.

As we chatted she happened to mention that conflict resolution among her family tends to skew toward passive agressive tactics.

I paused on the other end of the phone and said "Passive agressive? And you live around black people? How's that working out?"

"Not so much." She replied.

As a rule, I explained, black folk don't really respond to passive agressive. You pretty much have to let us know what you want---hinting around isn't gonna make the magic happen.

A cultural exchange, neighborhood gossip and new baby stories all in the same conversation.

Enough Already

A sight recently seen at the 55th & Lake Park Walgreens in Hyde Park.