10 long months.
That’s how long I haven’t had corporate employment.
That’s how long I’ve been paying for my own health, life and dental insurance.
That’s how long I have been searching for a job.
And let me define job as being one that pays as much or more than I was making at my other gig. A job that doesn’t involve serving or servicing anyone, has built in sick days and vacation time.
It would be nice not to say, “Would you like that house salad to come out first?”
It’s beyond frustrating.
I’m tired of worrying about working multiple jobs, sweating making the mortgage every month.
Make no mistake the mortgage comes first; much to the detriment of everything else and my credit rating.
Almost 40 years old and having to rebuild my credit rating---great.
Shouldn’t I be alfresco dining in Paris right now? Not worrying about coordinating my three jobs so I have enough money to keep my utilities on.
Paying the utilities these days is a series of Faustian deals with Com Ed, Peoples & AT&T.
I’m tired of having my friends help either via employment or funds.
My two of my three part time jobs are with close friends. The other is in the office suite of a close friend.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything that everyone has done for me, but I’m of the mind set that no matter how much someone likes you, there comes a time you have to stand on your own two feet.
It seems like my attempts at standing have been met with a massive ass kicking.
Plus no one needs to know every last thing about your life---no matter how much you like them.
It blurs the lines of friendship and we all know how tricky that can be to negotiate.
The fact of the matter is that apparently my best job hunt efforts aren’t good enough.
I’m trying to figure out how to correct and redirect my efforts so I don’t have to choose between groceries and paying my condo assessments.
Not that those are up to date but a girl can dream can’t she?
And then to drive the unemployment point home, one of my part time jobs (yes I had four) shut down about two weeks ago.
My main part time gig at Pottery Barn on Michigan Avenue is no more.
Jesus take the wheel, I’m the great job killer.
I know I’ve done a few of these posts over the past ten months but it just seems like everything is going into a downward spiral despite my best efforts.
I seriously want my life back.
Like right now.
It really takes fortitude to get out bed these days.
But knowing that the alternative is homelessness has served as motivation enough but now even that isn’t the kick that it used to be.
Frankly the cat meowing for his breakfast is what gets me to move my ass in the morning.
And yes, I’m not feeling too confident these days but I tell myself that I have to refocus and redouble my efforts. I also try to let go of the things I can’t control and deal with the things I can control.
So to pull me out of my funk, I’ve committed myself to making my little nest as tidy as possible.
While my place is still not completely spit and polished, things were progressing nicely.
Until the grease fire that happened on Saturday.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sourbelly Trio
As of yesterday I've been unemployed for 10 months.
Needless to say I'm in a shitty mood but those particulars are for another post.
This little piece of my childhood is helping to lift my spirits today. I don't know what's scarier---the fact that the male characters always fall for Bugs Bunny in drag or that I remembered the actual name of the clip (Hillbilly Hare).
I do love my Looney Tunes.
Needless to say I'm in a shitty mood but those particulars are for another post.
This little piece of my childhood is helping to lift my spirits today. I don't know what's scarier---the fact that the male characters always fall for Bugs Bunny in drag or that I remembered the actual name of the clip (Hillbilly Hare).
I do love my Looney Tunes.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Frank---The Back Story
Yes, that is a picture of a squirrel with a chicken wing in his mouth.
And no it wasn’t photo shopped.
But I’m getting ahead of myself----let me introduce you all to Frank.
Frank is mainly seen in the Washington Park neighborhood but no one knows exactly where he (or she?) resides.
My friend who lives across the street from Washington Park encountered Frank about four years ago when he started digging up the container garden that I worked so hard to plant.
At the time I didn’t know that those cute furry woodland creatures commonly known as squirrels were garden destroying rats with a fluffy tail and good PR.
Both my friend and I were extremely pissed.
Frank tore out my hard work to bury one of his many prizes----a corn cob, half a snickers bar or perhaps some other delicacy he found amidst the urban landscape.
Motherfucker.
So over the years during the warmer months, a battle would ensue between us and him.
At first my friend would leave his three dogs on the back porch where the flower boxes were located.
Frank merely kept out of their reach while he proceeded to rip apart another flower box.
Then at the start of last planting season we heard that blood meal would keep squirrels away from your flower boxes. So naturally we grabbed a few bags.
It seemed to work, yet Frank still came around to tease the dogs.
It seemed that Frank had upped the ante. It wasn’t about the flowerboxes anymore.
If my friend didn’t keep up with his blood meal application Frank would merely come back and we’d find plants on the floor of the back porch the next day.
That flipping squirrel was (and is) a sadist.
So it was no surprise when I got an excited phone call one day about his outrageous behavior.
“Woody, you won’t believe what I just saw!”
“Good God, what happened now?”
“The dogs were going crazy on the back porch barking at Frank.”
“Alert the media.”
“He was carrying a hot chicken wing in his mouth.”
“Shut up you liar. I should hang up this phone right now. Since when do squirrels start eating chicken wings?”
“I don’t know but he has a chicken wing in his mouth right now----I have a picture to prove it.”
“Bullshit.”
“No really, I have a picture.”
“So let’s see it, homeboy. Send it to me.”
And so he did.
At this point, all I can do is shake my head.
And no it wasn’t photo shopped.
But I’m getting ahead of myself----let me introduce you all to Frank.
Frank is mainly seen in the Washington Park neighborhood but no one knows exactly where he (or she?) resides.
My friend who lives across the street from Washington Park encountered Frank about four years ago when he started digging up the container garden that I worked so hard to plant.
At the time I didn’t know that those cute furry woodland creatures commonly known as squirrels were garden destroying rats with a fluffy tail and good PR.
Both my friend and I were extremely pissed.
Frank tore out my hard work to bury one of his many prizes----a corn cob, half a snickers bar or perhaps some other delicacy he found amidst the urban landscape.
Motherfucker.
So over the years during the warmer months, a battle would ensue between us and him.
At first my friend would leave his three dogs on the back porch where the flower boxes were located.
Frank merely kept out of their reach while he proceeded to rip apart another flower box.
Then at the start of last planting season we heard that blood meal would keep squirrels away from your flower boxes. So naturally we grabbed a few bags.
It seemed to work, yet Frank still came around to tease the dogs.
It seemed that Frank had upped the ante. It wasn’t about the flowerboxes anymore.
If my friend didn’t keep up with his blood meal application Frank would merely come back and we’d find plants on the floor of the back porch the next day.
That flipping squirrel was (and is) a sadist.
So it was no surprise when I got an excited phone call one day about his outrageous behavior.
“Woody, you won’t believe what I just saw!”
“Good God, what happened now?”
“The dogs were going crazy on the back porch barking at Frank.”
“Alert the media.”
“He was carrying a hot chicken wing in his mouth.”
“Shut up you liar. I should hang up this phone right now. Since when do squirrels start eating chicken wings?”
“I don’t know but he has a chicken wing in his mouth right now----I have a picture to prove it.”
“Bullshit.”
“No really, I have a picture.”
“So let’s see it, homeboy. Send it to me.”
And so he did.
At this point, all I can do is shake my head.
Progress In Pictures
Pictures from my cell phone of Mt. Carmel's turf replacement project. Note the brand new sidewalk in the corner of picture #1 and in picture #2.
Hotness.
And yes, I finally figured out how to download my Blackberry so don't be surprised by the flood of pictures on the blog.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
True Progress
It's true. We now have a sidewalk.
On the north side of my street between Stony Island and Dorchester is a new continuous two block stretch of sidewalk.
Part one was done by the city last fall and part two was just completed yesterday as a part of Mt. Carmel's turf replacement project.
After years of looking at an unkempt and crumbling parkway and sidewalk, the school across the street has finally come through.
It looks absolutely wonderful.
Pictures are forthcoming.
On the north side of my street between Stony Island and Dorchester is a new continuous two block stretch of sidewalk.
Part one was done by the city last fall and part two was just completed yesterday as a part of Mt. Carmel's turf replacement project.
After years of looking at an unkempt and crumbling parkway and sidewalk, the school across the street has finally come through.
It looks absolutely wonderful.
Pictures are forthcoming.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Additions
I just added new links to the South Side/Woodlawn section of the blog.
Three of the new links; Darius Williams, The Sixth Ward and Really Boring have been kind enough in the past to mention yours truly in their blogs. But don't think that praise, recognition and vanity swayed my decision making process.
Once these site got on my radar I actually sat and read them. These cats have a great deal to say and I'm proud that fellow south siders continue to represent in the blogosphere.
Plus I just dig Hyde Park Urbanist.
For those of you who read my humble offerings on the regular, may be the surprised that the fourth link is to Mt. Carmel High School.
For quite awhile they were simply known as "The School Across The Street."
But then the straw broke the camel's back and I cleared up any misconceptions about who really resided across the street.
I've had issues with Mt. Carmel's true commitment to our neighborhood in the past and very well may have some issues in the future.
For now it seems that they're doing right by the 'hood by stepping up and installing a new sidewalk from Blackstone to Dorchester and seeding the parkway.
So in the interest of moving on, Mt. Carmel has finally made the cut.
Being in Woodlawn for over 100 years, surviving the lean times and continuing to thrive has to count for something.
Three of the new links; Darius Williams, The Sixth Ward and Really Boring have been kind enough in the past to mention yours truly in their blogs. But don't think that praise, recognition and vanity swayed my decision making process.
Once these site got on my radar I actually sat and read them. These cats have a great deal to say and I'm proud that fellow south siders continue to represent in the blogosphere.
Plus I just dig Hyde Park Urbanist.
For those of you who read my humble offerings on the regular, may be the surprised that the fourth link is to Mt. Carmel High School.
For quite awhile they were simply known as "The School Across The Street."
But then the straw broke the camel's back and I cleared up any misconceptions about who really resided across the street.
I've had issues with Mt. Carmel's true commitment to our neighborhood in the past and very well may have some issues in the future.
For now it seems that they're doing right by the 'hood by stepping up and installing a new sidewalk from Blackstone to Dorchester and seeding the parkway.
So in the interest of moving on, Mt. Carmel has finally made the cut.
Being in Woodlawn for over 100 years, surviving the lean times and continuing to thrive has to count for something.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Dorchester Is Killin' It
Seriously, what's with the emergence of the hardcore gardeners on Dorchester between 63rd and 65th?
I know it's only two blocks but the explosion of color, the variance of plants, the mix of perennials and annuals create such as beautiful tapestry it's litteraly jaw dropping.
The now mature parkway garden in the 6400 block of Dorchester looks amazing with the addition of new perennials. Hopefully I'll be able to download my Blackberry pictures so you can enjoy the full beauty of this garden.
A few doors to the north, the newly built condos have some stunning lawn borders.
A lilly may just be a lilly but when you live in a neighborhood that has many vacant, trash strewn lots; that lilly represents progress.
Hope, even.
But the ones who are absoulutely killin' it on the gardening tip is the Apostolic Church of God.
Yeah, the one that the Obamas are probably attending as I write this post.
Note: Do not go near the corner of 63rd and Dorchester. The traffic will be nightmarish.
I schlepped past Apostolic yesterday and was stopped in my tracks by the vibrancy of their parking meridians.
Personally, I love the use of common household annuals----petunias, impatients. begonias, geramniums----in uncommon (and large bold) pairings.
Once again, if I ever figure out how to download these friggin pictures from my Blackberry I'll show you the visual feast.
Small steps make a big impact for a stronger neighborhood.
I know it's only two blocks but the explosion of color, the variance of plants, the mix of perennials and annuals create such as beautiful tapestry it's litteraly jaw dropping.
The now mature parkway garden in the 6400 block of Dorchester looks amazing with the addition of new perennials. Hopefully I'll be able to download my Blackberry pictures so you can enjoy the full beauty of this garden.
A few doors to the north, the newly built condos have some stunning lawn borders.
A lilly may just be a lilly but when you live in a neighborhood that has many vacant, trash strewn lots; that lilly represents progress.
Hope, even.
But the ones who are absoulutely killin' it on the gardening tip is the Apostolic Church of God.
Yeah, the one that the Obamas are probably attending as I write this post.
Note: Do not go near the corner of 63rd and Dorchester. The traffic will be nightmarish.
I schlepped past Apostolic yesterday and was stopped in my tracks by the vibrancy of their parking meridians.
Personally, I love the use of common household annuals----petunias, impatients. begonias, geramniums----in uncommon (and large bold) pairings.
Once again, if I ever figure out how to download these friggin pictures from my Blackberry I'll show you the visual feast.
Small steps make a big impact for a stronger neighborhood.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
It's Not Just Me
A few weeks ago one of my neighbors texted me near the end of my waitressing shift.
Since it was late, I was rather taken aback that I received a message that didn’t involve a dire emergency.
I pulled up the message, it read:
“Carlton was on Ch 7 hiding face coming out of court! Funny!”
I peed on myself a little ‘cause I got excited.
Hiding? Coming out of court? WTF is going on?
Despite my aching feet and crabby disposition, I rushed home in enough time to catch the rebroadcast of the Channel 7 news.
And just as I locked the door and turned on the TV what story should appear but the big splashy corruption investigation probe named Operation Crooked Code.
This time I about popped a boner.
As I watched the news report, a few of the indicted individuals were named but a complete list wasn’t made available.
That was a head scratcher.
I didn’t want to shout the joyous news from the rooftops until I saw my developer’s name in a federal indictment.
In short I needed to make sure that the T’s were crossed and the I’s were dotted.
The more I looked, I just couldn’t find any evidence that Carlton had been rounded up in the sting.
No peeing. No boner.
I’m glad I listened to my inner voice.
It turned out that the person who was covering his face coming out of the Dirksen Federal building was not Mr. Knight.
When I broke the news to my neighbor she was deeply disappointed.
And when I say deeply disappointed I mean buzz kill disappointed.
As much as I’ve chronicled Mr. Knight’s dealings with our association, I’m simply the smoke---the rest of my neighbors are the fire.
There's more than one owner who would like to see him get his comeuppance.
I’m just the one who happens to write about it.
While he wasn’t indicted, the city did file two new civil lawsuits against him. I also have to find out what’s going on with the Dixie Highway foolishness in Harvey.
Unfortunately my 12 part time jobs mean I don’t have the same amount of time to go sleuthing like I used to but I’ll eek out some time next week to go to the Clerk of the Circuit Court’s office.
Because as you should know by now, the saga is never ending.
Developing...
Since it was late, I was rather taken aback that I received a message that didn’t involve a dire emergency.
I pulled up the message, it read:
“Carlton was on Ch 7 hiding face coming out of court! Funny!”
I peed on myself a little ‘cause I got excited.
Hiding? Coming out of court? WTF is going on?
Despite my aching feet and crabby disposition, I rushed home in enough time to catch the rebroadcast of the Channel 7 news.
And just as I locked the door and turned on the TV what story should appear but the big splashy corruption investigation probe named Operation Crooked Code.
This time I about popped a boner.
As I watched the news report, a few of the indicted individuals were named but a complete list wasn’t made available.
That was a head scratcher.
I didn’t want to shout the joyous news from the rooftops until I saw my developer’s name in a federal indictment.
In short I needed to make sure that the T’s were crossed and the I’s were dotted.
The more I looked, I just couldn’t find any evidence that Carlton had been rounded up in the sting.
No peeing. No boner.
I’m glad I listened to my inner voice.
It turned out that the person who was covering his face coming out of the Dirksen Federal building was not Mr. Knight.
When I broke the news to my neighbor she was deeply disappointed.
And when I say deeply disappointed I mean buzz kill disappointed.
As much as I’ve chronicled Mr. Knight’s dealings with our association, I’m simply the smoke---the rest of my neighbors are the fire.
There's more than one owner who would like to see him get his comeuppance.
I’m just the one who happens to write about it.
While he wasn’t indicted, the city did file two new civil lawsuits against him. I also have to find out what’s going on with the Dixie Highway foolishness in Harvey.
Unfortunately my 12 part time jobs mean I don’t have the same amount of time to go sleuthing like I used to but I’ll eek out some time next week to go to the Clerk of the Circuit Court’s office.
Because as you should know by now, the saga is never ending.
Developing...
Monday, June 09, 2008
In Case You Were Wondering
A few updates:
The cat's ass dandruff is clearing up nicely. Apparently I can't feed him cheap cat food, he has to get the good stuff. God, he's such a high maintenance divo.
The basil is flourishing since I took it inside. Now I think the birds are attacking the impatients in my flower boxes.
Yowsa.
I know I've been promising to learn how to download pictures from my Blackberry Curve but it still hasen't happened. But now that Mt. Carmel is stepping up to the plate, I have to record this photographically for all to see.
Sidewalks, cats and basil oh my!
The cat's ass dandruff is clearing up nicely. Apparently I can't feed him cheap cat food, he has to get the good stuff. God, he's such a high maintenance divo.
The basil is flourishing since I took it inside. Now I think the birds are attacking the impatients in my flower boxes.
Yowsa.
I know I've been promising to learn how to download pictures from my Blackberry Curve but it still hasen't happened. But now that Mt. Carmel is stepping up to the plate, I have to record this photographically for all to see.
Sidewalks, cats and basil oh my!
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Saturday, June 07, 2008
West Side Opinion
Aparently someone else in Woodlawn has an opinon about one of their institutional neighbors.
For all of the issues we've had with Mt. Carmel, at least their presence discourages violent activity.
That's a good thing.
For all of the issues we've had with Mt. Carmel, at least their presence discourages violent activity.
That's a good thing.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Wait A Minute
As I was schlepping down the street this morning, I noticed that the crappy sidewalk running from Blackstone to Dorchester had been broken up as a part of Mt. Carmel's turf installation.
What the hell?
It would stand to reason that if the crappy, uneven sidewalk is no more that it will soon be replaced with a brand spanking new smooth and even sidewalk.
Right? It does stand to reason----correct?
Is it possible that our little hood will have a passable sidewalk for walkers, runners, seniors, dog walkers, stroller pushers and our neighbors in wheelchairs on the north side of the street?
That is so money.
Now the older wheelchair bound man who shamelessly flirts with all of the women in neighborhood will be able to give a more spirited continuous chase for two blocks.
Damn.
I'll keep an eye on the progress and post what happens.
Now if Mt. Carmel could only spring for some Turf Builder our shit might just be the hotness.
What the hell?
It would stand to reason that if the crappy, uneven sidewalk is no more that it will soon be replaced with a brand spanking new smooth and even sidewalk.
Right? It does stand to reason----correct?
Is it possible that our little hood will have a passable sidewalk for walkers, runners, seniors, dog walkers, stroller pushers and our neighbors in wheelchairs on the north side of the street?
That is so money.
Now the older wheelchair bound man who shamelessly flirts with all of the women in neighborhood will be able to give a more spirited continuous chase for two blocks.
Damn.
I'll keep an eye on the progress and post what happens.
Now if Mt. Carmel could only spring for some Turf Builder our shit might just be the hotness.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
The Block Is Hot
The fallout from the subprime crisis has been all over the news since last summer.
Faithful readers will remember how I wrote about my own personal drama in this forum with my own adjustable rate mortgage.
It would have been easier for me to get into a size ten pair of skinny jeans than to refi nance my mortgage last year.
I know that things are still bad.
I predict that the market won’t straighten out until late ’09 or early 2010.
Despite those grim predictions, I get a feeling that things are looking up for the old hoody hoo.
Realtor’s trying to get rid of excess inventory in this market shouldn’t come as a surprise.
But it seems like there’s a breath of fresh air in recent listings. And when I say breath of fresh air I mean new condo construction.
Not only are there newly built inventory on 65th place, Dorchester and Kimbark but methinks there may be a real estate turn around lurking amidst this downturn.
Obviously it’s not over until the units sells but as a nearly seven year resident of Woodlawn, the price points of the current condo inventory thrill me to pieces.
The new condos behind me are listing from the high 200’s.
For someone who bought her humble little cold water flat for considerably less, when the market does turn around ,those of us who saw Woodlawn’s potential and bought in early will reap the benefits.
And when I say reap I mean raking in the scads of cash when I finally choose to sell.
While I’m not a fan of our city’s Olympic efforts and I don’t think we’ll get the games---if we did, the real estate market for the south east side is going to blow off the map.
But for now it’s all just speculation.
I feel it coming though---change is afoot.
Faithful readers will remember how I wrote about my own personal drama in this forum with my own adjustable rate mortgage.
It would have been easier for me to get into a size ten pair of skinny jeans than to refi nance my mortgage last year.
I know that things are still bad.
I predict that the market won’t straighten out until late ’09 or early 2010.
Despite those grim predictions, I get a feeling that things are looking up for the old hoody hoo.
Realtor’s trying to get rid of excess inventory in this market shouldn’t come as a surprise.
But it seems like there’s a breath of fresh air in recent listings. And when I say breath of fresh air I mean new condo construction.
Not only are there newly built inventory on 65th place, Dorchester and Kimbark but methinks there may be a real estate turn around lurking amidst this downturn.
Obviously it’s not over until the units sells but as a nearly seven year resident of Woodlawn, the price points of the current condo inventory thrill me to pieces.
The new condos behind me are listing from the high 200’s.
For someone who bought her humble little cold water flat for considerably less, when the market does turn around ,those of us who saw Woodlawn’s potential and bought in early will reap the benefits.
And when I say reap I mean raking in the scads of cash when I finally choose to sell.
While I’m not a fan of our city’s Olympic efforts and I don’t think we’ll get the games---if we did, the real estate market for the south east side is going to blow off the map.
But for now it’s all just speculation.
I feel it coming though---change is afoot.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Nature My Ass
Who knew that the local wildlife loved fresh Basil so much?
Those motherfucking birds have practically picked clean my container of Basil I had out on the back deck.
And before I caught a clue, they started working on my Rosemary.
I took the two flower boxes that contained the Basil, Rosemary and Chives inside yesterday to sit on my windowsill.
So I have to worry about urban ills AND scavenger birds?
That's just bullshit.
Those motherfucking birds have practically picked clean my container of Basil I had out on the back deck.
And before I caught a clue, they started working on my Rosemary.
I took the two flower boxes that contained the Basil, Rosemary and Chives inside yesterday to sit on my windowsill.
So I have to worry about urban ills AND scavenger birds?
That's just bullshit.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Well Damn
The grass across the street on the new parkway is growing in nicely.
Nonetheless weeds are everywhere amongst the new blades. And when I say weeds, I mean that there are just as many (or more) weeds than grass.
Don't get me started on the seeds that the trees are dropping.
Mt. Carmel's landscape crew cuts the parkway every week so it doesn't look like we live in a third world country.
With the presence of the weeds it doesn't exactly look like we live in a leafy suburb either.
But I find it somewhat ironic that Mt. Carmel is replacing the sod on their football practice field with permanent turf and those of us who live on the "other" side of the fence can't even get a bag of Scot's turf builder put down to prevent the weeds.
The parkways in front of the school on 64th Street are absolutely beautiful. They look like a lush living green carpet. Not a weed in sight.
'Cause being a good neighbor means that you're proactive.
Not treating your neighbors like they're an afterthought.
Nonetheless weeds are everywhere amongst the new blades. And when I say weeds, I mean that there are just as many (or more) weeds than grass.
Don't get me started on the seeds that the trees are dropping.
Mt. Carmel's landscape crew cuts the parkway every week so it doesn't look like we live in a third world country.
With the presence of the weeds it doesn't exactly look like we live in a leafy suburb either.
But I find it somewhat ironic that Mt. Carmel is replacing the sod on their football practice field with permanent turf and those of us who live on the "other" side of the fence can't even get a bag of Scot's turf builder put down to prevent the weeds.
The parkways in front of the school on 64th Street are absolutely beautiful. They look like a lush living green carpet. Not a weed in sight.
'Cause being a good neighbor means that you're proactive.
Not treating your neighbors like they're an afterthought.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Act Fast
The 7:15, 8:00 and 11:30 show times for the Sex and the City movie at the Loews 600 North theatres have already sold out.
Can you believe it? The flipping movie is still 7 days away.
If you have any interest is seeing this film on opening day, I strongly suggest that you go to Fandango and hop on the bandwagon.
I'm already planning my outfit.
Can you believe it? The flipping movie is still 7 days away.
If you have any interest is seeing this film on opening day, I strongly suggest that you go to Fandango and hop on the bandwagon.
I'm already planning my outfit.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Right vs. Wrong
Apparently the presence of racism in America is news to some people.
The Opinion Page and this news story in yesterday’s Chicago Tribune seem to underscore this theory.
No shit Sherlock.
It seems that America’s dirty little secret is showing with the continued emergence of Senator Obama’s Presidential campaign.
Meghan Daum’s brilliantly insightful opinion piece cast the privilege of whiteness in a new light.
Apparently being White isn’t what it used to be. And the “wrong” type of White people aren’t too happy about this fact.
Yet among this renewed dialogue on race in our country a few things struck me as I watch this political and social drama unfold.
We all know Chicago isn’t exactly the Mecca of racial tolerance---there’s a reason it’s called the Mississippi of the north.
Frankly, the de facto segregation in this city is difficult to miss.
Nowhere is this segregation in plain view than where people choose to make their home.
And while I’m not trying to piss in the wind about this fact, I find it amusing that it’s the subtle behaviors, utterances and actions that let me know that this country has a long way to go before we reach a true racial understanding.
A prime example is when you live on the south side and choose to have a party; it’s interesting how some people will never ever accept your invitation.
And when I say some people I mean White people.
One of my neighbors and I were discussing this phenomenon while on our way to the Woodlawn Farmer’s Market last Saturday.
Its one thing to think that the whole of the south side is a cesspool but it’s quite another to think that someone you share a friendship or a workspace with thinks that you live in a cesspool.
So in the past, when some people would come to my home and remark about “livability” of my little part of Woodlawn I would reply to them “Where did you think I would live?”
“Livability” equals nice. Or at the very least not as ghetto as one would think.
My neighbor and I both decided that if you don’t want our free food and liquor, screw you.
Not that I’m in a financial position to have a party.
But make no mistake, when I get a job and knock down my credit card debt, I’m gonna have a blowout.
I also noticed an editorial cartoon in the April 3rd-9th edition of The Onion.
In the page 11 cartoon you see two panels----one that’s captioned “America When We Don’t Talk About Race” that shows a rural looking White family (I can’t only assume that from the overalls on the father), a beer mug holding Irishman, a Black man with the word “funky” spinning a basketball on his finger, a guitar playing Hispanic man and a Asian woman standing outside of a laundry.
I don’t have to point out the basic offensiveness of that panel do I?
Truthfully I don’t have a problem with that---I can’t go tilting at every windmill.
But the chafe comes in the next panel titled “America When We Do (Talk About Race)”
Chaos has erupted.
The rural father is in a Klan hood, the Hispanic man and Asian woman are fighting and the Irishman has a broken bottle in his hand.
Yet the image that strikes me as offensive is the one where the Black man has the rural mother by the throat---knife in hand ready for the attack.
Jesus take the wheel.
I’ve been doing this Black thing for a few years and like I’ve previously stated in order to preserve my sanity I can’t go tilting at every windmill.
The trick to being Black in America is brush the slights and insults off your shoulders. If you internalize too much you’ll be on a subway train shooting White people and blaming it on “Black rage.”
You also need a way to release the bullshit that’s heaped upon you seemingly everyday so you don’t blow.
I’m lucky---I have a blog that’s mine and mine alone so I can call it like I see it.
But my point, kind reader is that I always knew that White people took a dim view of us.
And when I say dim view I mean that in a “we’ll tolerate your existence until you step out of your place” type of way.
But at least I know where I stand with the “wrong” type of White people.
I won’t hear how they support diversity yet can’t seem to take a social trip south of Madison Street.
I won’t hear about how they don’t see color or think that racist attitudes are disgusting yet would illustrate a cartoon showing what seems to be the worst of White America’s fears.
Shockingly, to the “right” people race still matters.
The Opinion Page and this news story in yesterday’s Chicago Tribune seem to underscore this theory.
No shit Sherlock.
It seems that America’s dirty little secret is showing with the continued emergence of Senator Obama’s Presidential campaign.
Meghan Daum’s brilliantly insightful opinion piece cast the privilege of whiteness in a new light.
Apparently being White isn’t what it used to be. And the “wrong” type of White people aren’t too happy about this fact.
Yet among this renewed dialogue on race in our country a few things struck me as I watch this political and social drama unfold.
We all know Chicago isn’t exactly the Mecca of racial tolerance---there’s a reason it’s called the Mississippi of the north.
Frankly, the de facto segregation in this city is difficult to miss.
Nowhere is this segregation in plain view than where people choose to make their home.
And while I’m not trying to piss in the wind about this fact, I find it amusing that it’s the subtle behaviors, utterances and actions that let me know that this country has a long way to go before we reach a true racial understanding.
A prime example is when you live on the south side and choose to have a party; it’s interesting how some people will never ever accept your invitation.
And when I say some people I mean White people.
One of my neighbors and I were discussing this phenomenon while on our way to the Woodlawn Farmer’s Market last Saturday.
Its one thing to think that the whole of the south side is a cesspool but it’s quite another to think that someone you share a friendship or a workspace with thinks that you live in a cesspool.
So in the past, when some people would come to my home and remark about “livability” of my little part of Woodlawn I would reply to them “Where did you think I would live?”
“Livability” equals nice. Or at the very least not as ghetto as one would think.
My neighbor and I both decided that if you don’t want our free food and liquor, screw you.
Not that I’m in a financial position to have a party.
But make no mistake, when I get a job and knock down my credit card debt, I’m gonna have a blowout.
I also noticed an editorial cartoon in the April 3rd-9th edition of The Onion.
In the page 11 cartoon you see two panels----one that’s captioned “America When We Don’t Talk About Race” that shows a rural looking White family (I can’t only assume that from the overalls on the father), a beer mug holding Irishman, a Black man with the word “funky” spinning a basketball on his finger, a guitar playing Hispanic man and a Asian woman standing outside of a laundry.
I don’t have to point out the basic offensiveness of that panel do I?
Truthfully I don’t have a problem with that---I can’t go tilting at every windmill.
But the chafe comes in the next panel titled “America When We Do (Talk About Race)”
Chaos has erupted.
The rural father is in a Klan hood, the Hispanic man and Asian woman are fighting and the Irishman has a broken bottle in his hand.
Yet the image that strikes me as offensive is the one where the Black man has the rural mother by the throat---knife in hand ready for the attack.
Jesus take the wheel.
I’ve been doing this Black thing for a few years and like I’ve previously stated in order to preserve my sanity I can’t go tilting at every windmill.
The trick to being Black in America is brush the slights and insults off your shoulders. If you internalize too much you’ll be on a subway train shooting White people and blaming it on “Black rage.”
You also need a way to release the bullshit that’s heaped upon you seemingly everyday so you don’t blow.
I’m lucky---I have a blog that’s mine and mine alone so I can call it like I see it.
But my point, kind reader is that I always knew that White people took a dim view of us.
And when I say dim view I mean that in a “we’ll tolerate your existence until you step out of your place” type of way.
But at least I know where I stand with the “wrong” type of White people.
I won’t hear how they support diversity yet can’t seem to take a social trip south of Madison Street.
I won’t hear about how they don’t see color or think that racist attitudes are disgusting yet would illustrate a cartoon showing what seems to be the worst of White America’s fears.
Shockingly, to the “right” people race still matters.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Pet Mother
I am clearly a poor excuse for a pet mother.
My cat has ass dandruff.
Those nasty flakes stand out against his smoky gray fur and are causing me considerable angst.
When I googled Mr. Puss’ symptoms it seems that either he’s allergic to something, he’s too fat to reach around and clean himself or I kept my home too warm during the colder months.
So I either didn’t pay proper attention to Mr. Puss, I over fed him or I fried him.
God, I suck.
When money was even tighter a few months ago, I actually bought him crappy, mass produced, low end cat food. Seemingly the flakes appeared overnight.
As I write this post and look at his dandruff, I’m sure the act of giving him a bath isn’t too far off.
Oh joy. Oh rapture.
It’s not enough that I’m practically jingling a cup full of change on the street corner in order to keep a roof over my head, now I’ve got to solve the ass dandruff issue.
Jesus take the wheel.
My cat has ass dandruff.
Those nasty flakes stand out against his smoky gray fur and are causing me considerable angst.
When I googled Mr. Puss’ symptoms it seems that either he’s allergic to something, he’s too fat to reach around and clean himself or I kept my home too warm during the colder months.
So I either didn’t pay proper attention to Mr. Puss, I over fed him or I fried him.
God, I suck.
When money was even tighter a few months ago, I actually bought him crappy, mass produced, low end cat food. Seemingly the flakes appeared overnight.
As I write this post and look at his dandruff, I’m sure the act of giving him a bath isn’t too far off.
Oh joy. Oh rapture.
It’s not enough that I’m practically jingling a cup full of change on the street corner in order to keep a roof over my head, now I’ve got to solve the ass dandruff issue.
Jesus take the wheel.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Don't Forget
Woodlawn's first ever Farmer's Market happens on Saturday the 17th starting at 9:00 AM til 2:00 PM at the Experimental Station located at 61st & Blackstone.
Break out your grocery carts and cloth bags, real food (not Flaming Hot Cheetos) have come back to the 'hood.
You'll recognize me by the loads of fresh flowers I'll be carrying.
Fresh flowers---who knew?
Woodlawn stand up!
Break out your grocery carts and cloth bags, real food (not Flaming Hot Cheetos) have come back to the 'hood.
You'll recognize me by the loads of fresh flowers I'll be carrying.
Fresh flowers---who knew?
Woodlawn stand up!
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