...well, lady, that is. That's me.
The barbecue back in July was a great success, but there were surprising, long-lasting negative side effects thanks to my astounding ability not to notice important details in my environment.
About 70 people came by the barbecue, the kids had a water fight out front--an older woman got hit by accident and her daughter got mad, but I think we are all over it now--the grownups ate and chatted out back. Three little girls played Ring Around the Rosy. We sang happy birthday to everybody who had birthdays in July and August. The cake I got from Bom Bon was gone in about five minutes. (I got the cake from the 18th Street location.) Then we had a pinata.
The bad part was at some point I forgot I had been defrosting frozen hamburgers in the microwave. We ran out of burgers and I knew there were more but they weren't in the refrigerator or by the grill, and I kept getting distracted by other things and completely forgot about the stack in the microwave. And I kept forgetting about them through the next couple of days. Then I left for a week of vacation.
When I got home there was a bad smell. I couldn't figure out its source. After a few minutes of sniffing around, I called Dawn and asked her to come over and help me find the source of the smell. She thought it was coming out of the air duct behind the garbage can. We thought maybe a mouse had got in and died in there. I had been wanting to have my air ducts cleaned since I first moved in--I knew they were full of sawdust from construction and I have allergies--but I kept putting it off because of the expense. Well, this was it. Time to get air duct cleaning.
So the bad smell continued until the following Friday (now a little over a week ago), when the air duct guy arrived. Not only did he clean my air ducts, he figured out the source of the smell.
"Have you looked in your microwave?" he asked me.
I went over and looked inside. It was swarming with flies and maggots. "Oh, God," I said. "The hamburger."
The air duct guy very graciously helped me carry the microwave, unopened, out to the back yard. I got rubber gloves, Clorox and a toilet brush. Fortunately, the hamburgers were still in their plastic bad, so although gross, it wasn't that hard to take it out and put it in a garbage bag. However, the fauna inside were much more of a challenge. There were maggots and fly eggs everywhere. I finally took the garden hose to it just to knock them out.
That was the moment Dawn's mom showed up out back with one of her friends. "I don't think you want to do that," she said. I may well have shorted the thing out with all that water, but I couldn't really see an alternative.
Finally, after all the nasty critters were out of the main chamber, I came to a sad realization--there were some big flies trapped in the window of the microwave door and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to clean out in there. The air duct guy had been making gentle hints all along that perhaps it was time for this machine to join its brothers in the great microwave cooking ground in the sky, so to speak. However, since in my neighborhood the alley is not a true burial ground--everything gets reincarnated--I felt obligated to put signs on it in English and Spanish saying, "Clean well before using -- there are flies inside." I put it out on top of my dumpster and it was gone in less than two hours.
Alas, that wasn't the end of the story. I've still got too many damn flies in the house. Back on Tuesday I was having breakfast and almost a dozen decided to join me. Yuck. On Friday I got some Raid and sprayed the back of the kitchen. That seemed to help some. (I hate Raid and I hate breathing in the fumes, but this called for strong measures.)
But Friday night became a Hitchcockian nightmare in my bathroom. I went to take a bath and there were two flies in there and the Raid was downstairs. Armed with a copy of Chicago magazine, I took them on. One went down quickly (do you realize flies have red blood? Uggh....). The other was more stubborn (maybe that one hadn't set foot in the Raid-sprayed area), and actually flew into me once during the chase. I felt like I was in "The Birds." But eventually the second one got whacked, too.
Right now, in the living room window, there are two dead flies on the sill and one live one climbing around on the screen. There's is almost no food in my house and it may be a while yet before I start cooking again. When I got back from Ireland, I saw Angela and Shaun from up by the corner. Angela told me it was her birthday and I promised I'd make her some cookies. I've had to put her off twice now due to the fly infestation. "My kitchen is so nasty right now I can't cook anything," I told her a couple of days ago. "As soon as I get it cleaned up, I will make you some cookies."
At this rate, it'll be Labor Day. Sheesh.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Marshfield Tattler on the Air
If you haven't checked out Vocalo, the new public radio station making waves on the Internet, now's a good time to give it a listen.
Earlier this week, host/producer Dan Weissmann featured the entry "New Kids on the Block: Not Nice" on his show. Someone else read it and did a very good job.
Earlier this week, host/producer Dan Weissmann featured the entry "New Kids on the Block: Not Nice" on his show. Someone else read it and did a very good job.
Monday, August 20, 2007
CAPS Meeting and After
Tonight's CAPS meeting was OK. No big revelations. The police said they had arrested "the old guy" at the problem house down the block. If they meant Yup-yup, he wasn't in very long--I didn't even notice. A lady came and said a week ago some older boys had tried to coerce one of her sons into taking drugs to school to sell. This turned into a long and involved conversation in Spanish, the essential point being she should call 911 right away in that kind of situation.
Afterwards, as I was going home Shaun and his big brother caught up to me. "When are you bringing us cookies?" Shaun asked.
"Later this week," I said. "My kitchen has been so nasty I couldn't cook anything. When I finish cleaning it up, I will bake cookies."
"Can we help you clean up?" he asked.
"No, honey," I said. "It's too nasty." (Stay tuned for the next post about what happened.)
They came down the block with me to go visit James. He didn't come out, but his aunt did. I asked if she wanted to sign a nominating petition for Esther Golar and she agreed. Then she offered to take it into her house and get her family's signatures. There are quite a few registered voters in there. That was a nice break. I thanked her profusely.
When she came back out, she double-checked to make sure Esther wasn't the lady who called herself our precinct captain under the former alderman.
"No, that's not her," I said, with a look to say, "You think I would circulate petitions for that woman?"
"Why aren't you are precinct captain?" James' aunt asked me.
"It's a lot of work," I said. "I'm not sure I want to take it on."
"People listen to you," she said.
"Well, one thing I have been talking about is starting a block club," I told her. I've been talking about that with Ms. Ribs ever since we got a new alderman. Before Labor Day, I will go to the new church at the end of our block and ask them if we can use their space to hold meetings. We'll take it from there.
James' aunt liked this idea. She was the one who raised the issue of the nasty new people on the block. "We need to get rid of them," she said. "My brother is 45 years old. He doesn't gangbang. We been here 30 years. How are these people gonna come threaten him when he's standing on the sidewalk?"
While the auntie was inside getting petition signatures, I caught up with Dawn, whom I hadn't seen for a week. She heard about the Latinos Progresando event coming up with Dick Durbin -- August 28-- and she wants to go. He will be talking about the DREAM Act. Since Elvira Arellano's arrest, Dawn is energized and wants to see whether other people are more energized or more afraid to speak out. She has a meeting at school tomorrow and is going to see who else wants to go on the 28th. She gave me a flyer about the event. What a budding organizer!
On top of all this, our new friends who just arrived from Pilsen were out on their roller skates. Alma, Irma and Maritza got in a line and grabbed my shirt, and I dragged all of them on their skates by running up and down the block. It was great exercise for working off all the Connie's pizza I ate at the CAPS meeting. Their mom came out and gave them popsicles. She asked if I wanted one but I was too full from the pizza.
Later I took some tomatoes from the garden over to their house. I rang the second floor--I think I got their uncle. Hopefully a dozen is enough for everybody to get a taste. Welcome to the block.
Oh, an interesting aside about schools--Shaun and his siblings can't start at Chavez until after Labor Day, even though Chavez started already, because their old school is on the regular calendar and no one is there to send their records over. Shouldn't there be some way to deal with that?
Afterwards, as I was going home Shaun and his big brother caught up to me. "When are you bringing us cookies?" Shaun asked.
"Later this week," I said. "My kitchen has been so nasty I couldn't cook anything. When I finish cleaning it up, I will bake cookies."
"Can we help you clean up?" he asked.
"No, honey," I said. "It's too nasty." (Stay tuned for the next post about what happened.)
They came down the block with me to go visit James. He didn't come out, but his aunt did. I asked if she wanted to sign a nominating petition for Esther Golar and she agreed. Then she offered to take it into her house and get her family's signatures. There are quite a few registered voters in there. That was a nice break. I thanked her profusely.
When she came back out, she double-checked to make sure Esther wasn't the lady who called herself our precinct captain under the former alderman.
"No, that's not her," I said, with a look to say, "You think I would circulate petitions for that woman?"
"Why aren't you are precinct captain?" James' aunt asked me.
"It's a lot of work," I said. "I'm not sure I want to take it on."
"People listen to you," she said.
"Well, one thing I have been talking about is starting a block club," I told her. I've been talking about that with Ms. Ribs ever since we got a new alderman. Before Labor Day, I will go to the new church at the end of our block and ask them if we can use their space to hold meetings. We'll take it from there.
James' aunt liked this idea. She was the one who raised the issue of the nasty new people on the block. "We need to get rid of them," she said. "My brother is 45 years old. He doesn't gangbang. We been here 30 years. How are these people gonna come threaten him when he's standing on the sidewalk?"
While the auntie was inside getting petition signatures, I caught up with Dawn, whom I hadn't seen for a week. She heard about the Latinos Progresando event coming up with Dick Durbin -- August 28-- and she wants to go. He will be talking about the DREAM Act. Since Elvira Arellano's arrest, Dawn is energized and wants to see whether other people are more energized or more afraid to speak out. She has a meeting at school tomorrow and is going to see who else wants to go on the 28th. She gave me a flyer about the event. What a budding organizer!
On top of all this, our new friends who just arrived from Pilsen were out on their roller skates. Alma, Irma and Maritza got in a line and grabbed my shirt, and I dragged all of them on their skates by running up and down the block. It was great exercise for working off all the Connie's pizza I ate at the CAPS meeting. Their mom came out and gave them popsicles. She asked if I wanted one but I was too full from the pizza.
Later I took some tomatoes from the garden over to their house. I rang the second floor--I think I got their uncle. Hopefully a dozen is enough for everybody to get a taste. Welcome to the block.
Oh, an interesting aside about schools--Shaun and his siblings can't start at Chavez until after Labor Day, even though Chavez started already, because their old school is on the regular calendar and no one is there to send their records over. Shouldn't there be some way to deal with that?
Friday, August 17, 2007
Dawn's Birthday Bike Ride
On Monday Dawn and I rode to 31st Street Beach. I'd been wanting to do that for months. It was her birthday. I still need to get her a bike helmet. (Should this be in The Dangerous Book for Girls? Will all my biking friends kill me for letting her ride around with me helmet-free?). There's no nearby place to buy one that I know of, and I want her with me when I buy it to get the right size. Finding time and a store has been difficult. Maybe we should just go to Swap-O-Rama together this weekend.
Dawn borrowed her dad's bike, and the back tire needed air, so we stopped at the gas station on 45th on the way out to the beach. At first the machine wouldn't work, but the air started flowing on the second try.
We took Ashland (mostly on the sidewalk) to 35th, then 35th to Halsted, then the bike lane to 31st, then 31st to the beach. For much of 31st I had Dawn take the sidewalk while I rode in the street.
We got to the beach a little before sunset. The water has finally warmed up. Dawn had sweat pants on, so she hiked them up a little and went in. She got wet. I went in, but not as far. As it was getting dark, we walked over to the pier and went all the way out, enjoying the view of the skyline and saying hello to the people fishing.
Dawn wanted to know about the breakwater rocks and the light at the end of the pier. It has a big cage around it--I guess so someone can stand there while changing the light bulb.
She also told me a story from her camping trip this summer. I think it was while they were doing the rafting part of the trip that she and another camper got stuck in quicksand and had to figure out how to get out. It was a little scary, she said--she was in nearly up to her hip and her first escape attempts were pushing her down, not up. But one of the trip leaders was nearby, offering advice, and Dawn got it--the trick she used was to kneel (that got her higher up), then walk in a sort of sideways manner, sort of like climbing steps with your feet askew, to get out.
Once she and the other camper were free, they started pushing each other to try to force the other person back in the mud. "It was funny then," she told me, "but before, it was scary."
We had to hurry home because she was getting up at 4:30 the next morning to go to work. She's doing temp work between the end of summer school and the beginning of the new year. (Joey's already back in school because Chavez is on the year-round calendar, so they started August 6.)
Dawn borrowed her dad's bike, and the back tire needed air, so we stopped at the gas station on 45th on the way out to the beach. At first the machine wouldn't work, but the air started flowing on the second try.
We took Ashland (mostly on the sidewalk) to 35th, then 35th to Halsted, then the bike lane to 31st, then 31st to the beach. For much of 31st I had Dawn take the sidewalk while I rode in the street.
We got to the beach a little before sunset. The water has finally warmed up. Dawn had sweat pants on, so she hiked them up a little and went in. She got wet. I went in, but not as far. As it was getting dark, we walked over to the pier and went all the way out, enjoying the view of the skyline and saying hello to the people fishing.
Dawn wanted to know about the breakwater rocks and the light at the end of the pier. It has a big cage around it--I guess so someone can stand there while changing the light bulb.
She also told me a story from her camping trip this summer. I think it was while they were doing the rafting part of the trip that she and another camper got stuck in quicksand and had to figure out how to get out. It was a little scary, she said--she was in nearly up to her hip and her first escape attempts were pushing her down, not up. But one of the trip leaders was nearby, offering advice, and Dawn got it--the trick she used was to kneel (that got her higher up), then walk in a sort of sideways manner, sort of like climbing steps with your feet askew, to get out.
Once she and the other camper were free, they started pushing each other to try to force the other person back in the mud. "It was funny then," she told me, "but before, it was scary."
We had to hurry home because she was getting up at 4:30 the next morning to go to work. She's doing temp work between the end of summer school and the beginning of the new year. (Joey's already back in school because Chavez is on the year-round calendar, so they started August 6.)
Where there's smoke...
there may or may not be fire, but something's up.
Fire seems to be a theme this week. I got home late on Wednesday night. It was dark and steaming hot. You could almost see the humidity in the air. But there was more than steamy heat hanging in the air on this block of Marshfield Avenue. Down in the middle of the block, smoke was pouring out of the house that's been trouble since June.
Yup-yup spotted me as I got off my bike in the yard. "Miss Maritza!" he called.
"What IS that down there?" I inquired.
"That's not smoke," he assured me. "That's just steam."
Sure it is. I'll believe that when your eyes are not wide and red and you're not twitching.
After Yup-yup departed, I started walking down the block to see what was going on. Julian and a friend of his were biking up the block, so I walked back to my house before getting a real sense of anything.
As I was getting the mail out of the mailbox, Julian came alongside my front steps and said quietly, "That smoke stinks. Do you think they are making drugs in there?"
"I don't know, but they might be," I said in a low voice. "I'll go in the house and call 911."
They sent three fire trucks and a police car. I don't know if they arrested anyone or what happened. But it was gratifying to have a quick response to a call, for once.
Fire seems to be a theme this week. I got home late on Wednesday night. It was dark and steaming hot. You could almost see the humidity in the air. But there was more than steamy heat hanging in the air on this block of Marshfield Avenue. Down in the middle of the block, smoke was pouring out of the house that's been trouble since June.
Yup-yup spotted me as I got off my bike in the yard. "Miss Maritza!" he called.
"What IS that down there?" I inquired.
"That's not smoke," he assured me. "That's just steam."
Sure it is. I'll believe that when your eyes are not wide and red and you're not twitching.
After Yup-yup departed, I started walking down the block to see what was going on. Julian and a friend of his were biking up the block, so I walked back to my house before getting a real sense of anything.
As I was getting the mail out of the mailbox, Julian came alongside my front steps and said quietly, "That smoke stinks. Do you think they are making drugs in there?"
"I don't know, but they might be," I said in a low voice. "I'll go in the house and call 911."
They sent three fire trucks and a police car. I don't know if they arrested anyone or what happened. But it was gratifying to have a quick response to a call, for once.
The Dangerous Book for Boys
...is not a book we really need here on Marshfield Avenue. There's plenty of danger to go around. And I'm not talking about gangbanging today. Just the usual boy fascination with stuff like bicycles and fire.
Last night Joey and three of his buddies were out in his backyard trying to fix somebody's flat tire. "Do you have some matches?" his big friend Eric asked me.
"What for?"
"It dries the glue," he explained. It seemed like they put on glue, lit up the tire like you would flaming cheese, then put on the patch. I didn't really get this, but as long as I was watching I was OK with them having a tire flambe out back.
"OK," I said, went in the kitchen and came back with a pack of matches. I handed it to Eric through the fence and watched them while I was picking tomatoes.
"Not so close to my finger!" Eric warned one of the smaller guys, who was about to light up the tire. "My finger has glue on it," he explained for my benefit.
They were holding the tire over the back porch steps. "Maybe you don't want to do that on top of wood," I suggested. "How about you do that on the concrete?" They moved over to the walkway.
Then it was somebody else's turn to hold the tire. Eric is kind of bossy. "Don't be scared to hold the tire," he urged. "You're scared."
"No, I'm not," muttered the little guy. He was. I didn't blame him, either. That glue sent up some pretty big flames.
Somehow they managed to fix the tire. Nobody burned any fingers, and the back porch also survived unscathed. After the flames subsided, I went in the house for a minute. When I returned to my backyard, I could hear them up front, talking about getting the tire back on the bike.
I joined them up front. "Could I have the matches back, please?"
"Oh, yeah," they said, remembering. Eric produced the pack. There were three left. Amusing.
At some point while all this was going on, Joey pulled me aside for a chat through the fence. "I'm doing real good in school so far," he informed me solemnly. "Much better than last year."
"That's good," I told him. "Maybe I'll come see your teacher next week."
"OK," he said.
His birthday is coming up. I asked him if he'd like to go to the Museum of Science and Industry to see CSI: The Experience. He said yes. Dawn wants to go, too. This could be their joint birthday present--they both have birthdays this month.
By the way, even though The Dangerous Book for Boys is perhaps unnecessary here, the trailer for it on You Tube is pretty cute. This is the trailer for Dangerous Book for Boys Part Deux. You can see some of the chapters. Maybe the chapter on building a go-cart would be fun to have on hand. I'm not sure bows and arrows are a great idea around here, but they're better than guns. And the rules for soccer are completely unnecessary.
The other thing about the trailer is it is all about father-son bonding. There's nothing about boys playing with other boys. This is one thing I love about this neighborhood--kids play with their friends and hang out while their dads work on cars or house projects. Both things are good--I wish Our Entire Culture could find better ways of balancing both kid-on-kid play and fun with parents.
Last night Joey and three of his buddies were out in his backyard trying to fix somebody's flat tire. "Do you have some matches?" his big friend Eric asked me.
"What for?"
"It dries the glue," he explained. It seemed like they put on glue, lit up the tire like you would flaming cheese, then put on the patch. I didn't really get this, but as long as I was watching I was OK with them having a tire flambe out back.
"OK," I said, went in the kitchen and came back with a pack of matches. I handed it to Eric through the fence and watched them while I was picking tomatoes.
"Not so close to my finger!" Eric warned one of the smaller guys, who was about to light up the tire. "My finger has glue on it," he explained for my benefit.
They were holding the tire over the back porch steps. "Maybe you don't want to do that on top of wood," I suggested. "How about you do that on the concrete?" They moved over to the walkway.
Then it was somebody else's turn to hold the tire. Eric is kind of bossy. "Don't be scared to hold the tire," he urged. "You're scared."
"No, I'm not," muttered the little guy. He was. I didn't blame him, either. That glue sent up some pretty big flames.
Somehow they managed to fix the tire. Nobody burned any fingers, and the back porch also survived unscathed. After the flames subsided, I went in the house for a minute. When I returned to my backyard, I could hear them up front, talking about getting the tire back on the bike.
I joined them up front. "Could I have the matches back, please?"
"Oh, yeah," they said, remembering. Eric produced the pack. There were three left. Amusing.
At some point while all this was going on, Joey pulled me aside for a chat through the fence. "I'm doing real good in school so far," he informed me solemnly. "Much better than last year."
"That's good," I told him. "Maybe I'll come see your teacher next week."
"OK," he said.
His birthday is coming up. I asked him if he'd like to go to the Museum of Science and Industry to see CSI: The Experience. He said yes. Dawn wants to go, too. This could be their joint birthday present--they both have birthdays this month.
By the way, even though The Dangerous Book for Boys is perhaps unnecessary here, the trailer for it on You Tube is pretty cute. This is the trailer for Dangerous Book for Boys Part Deux. You can see some of the chapters. Maybe the chapter on building a go-cart would be fun to have on hand. I'm not sure bows and arrows are a great idea around here, but they're better than guns. And the rules for soccer are completely unnecessary.
The other thing about the trailer is it is all about father-son bonding. There's nothing about boys playing with other boys. This is one thing I love about this neighborhood--kids play with their friends and hang out while their dads work on cars or house projects. Both things are good--I wish Our Entire Culture could find better ways of balancing both kid-on-kid play and fun with parents.
Monday, August 13, 2007
"Don't you believe in us?"
Yup-yup asked me this question the other night. He was roaming around high as a kite and hoping to guilt some cash out of me. Dawn's mom and her baby brother were over. With help from mama, Angelito was practicing walking up and down the front steps.
"This is not a good time," I told him calmly. He went away.
I have not seen his sometime girlfriend/ho for a few days. Let's hope that Thresholds South is coming through for her one way or another.
"This is not a good time," I told him calmly. He went away.
I have not seen his sometime girlfriend/ho for a few days. Let's hope that Thresholds South is coming through for her one way or another.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Night Job
Apparently my night job as social worker, or at least information and referral specialist, to the 5000 block of South Marshfield is really booming business. Yup-yup's sometime girlfriend/prostitute stopped by a few minutes ago to tell me her mother died in July and the funeral was today. She lost a son within the last year, too. She is still interested in drug treatment--she mentioned this a couple of weeks ago. Yay! A social worker friend of mine recommended Thresholds treatment program near 63rd and Kedzie.
I explained Thresholds and the program to her--Thresholds works with people who are homeless and have problems with mental illness and/or drug addiction. "That's me," she said, "I've got all three." Hope that means she can get in.
But wait, there's more.
School Lady down the block called while I was on vacation last week. I thought this was going to be about more trouble on the block, but when I stopped by her house tonight on the way home from work, she asked me for help about her oldest daughter, who apparently is running wild in various ways. A while ago I met a social worker down here who would be perfect for this situation but have lost her info and had to email someone else to get it. Hope I remember right how I met her and the info comes through.
This all happened within two hours of my second night home from vacation. Plus, a neighbor up the street is looking for a good lawyer to sue the hell out of contractor for a crappy job they did on some house project. The fun never ends around here.
I explained Thresholds and the program to her--Thresholds works with people who are homeless and have problems with mental illness and/or drug addiction. "That's me," she said, "I've got all three." Hope that means she can get in.
But wait, there's more.
School Lady down the block called while I was on vacation last week. I thought this was going to be about more trouble on the block, but when I stopped by her house tonight on the way home from work, she asked me for help about her oldest daughter, who apparently is running wild in various ways. A while ago I met a social worker down here who would be perfect for this situation but have lost her info and had to email someone else to get it. Hope I remember right how I met her and the info comes through.
This all happened within two hours of my second night home from vacation. Plus, a neighbor up the street is looking for a good lawyer to sue the hell out of contractor for a crappy job they did on some house project. The fun never ends around here.
Friday, July 27, 2007
New Kids on the Block: Not Nice
I have called 911 at least three times this week, twice today. There was a dispute this morning, then Yup-yup was running around all high, and a few minutes ago there was some domestic disagreement a couple of houses away. I thought it was at the corner but it was actually closer.
About six weeks ago a bunch of new people moved in a house at the south-central part of the block and it's been downhill ever since. They hang out yelling and cursing til all hours, my neighbors to the south say there are problems with drug dealing, robbery and prostitution.
Tonight my new next door neighbor on the other side--a nice guy with a family who bought the house next door and redid the back yard beautifully--came by to tell me people are cutting through my yard in the daytime when I'm not home. They're not kids either--they're adults. I will have to figure out how to lock my front gate and still get my mail. I've been thinking about getting a PO Box downtown for business reasons anyway. Jeez.
It's amazing how quickly a block can backslide. And it's easy to see how hard it may be to bring it back.
About six weeks ago a bunch of new people moved in a house at the south-central part of the block and it's been downhill ever since. They hang out yelling and cursing til all hours, my neighbors to the south say there are problems with drug dealing, robbery and prostitution.
Tonight my new next door neighbor on the other side--a nice guy with a family who bought the house next door and redid the back yard beautifully--came by to tell me people are cutting through my yard in the daytime when I'm not home. They're not kids either--they're adults. I will have to figure out how to lock my front gate and still get my mail. I've been thinking about getting a PO Box downtown for business reasons anyway. Jeez.
It's amazing how quickly a block can backslide. And it's easy to see how hard it may be to bring it back.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Julian Stops to Chat
I heard some noise out back this evening and went to see what it was. (Since last Monday afternoon, when I found someone I didn't know washing his hands in my yard, with my garden hose, I've been more jumpy about noises outside.) However, this was just Julian fooling around in his backyard next door.
I came out and he said hi right away. We had the longest conversation we've had in quite some time. He's been thinking about quitting school to get a job in a meatpacking plant up Ashland, north of Pershing. We had a long talk about how much more money you can make over the course of your life with a diploma than without one and how much easier it is to get your diploma by staying in school than if you drop out and try to go back or get a GED. By the end he seemed pretty convinced it was worth staying in school at least for the upcoming year, but who knows how long that will last.
He said a couple of very mature things in the course of our conversation. He says he is trying to straighten up and stay out of trouble. He's been bike riding out of the neighborhood, like biking to 31st Street beach, to be able to be outside without getting in trouble. (Maybe a month ago we had a conversation about the best way to ride to the beach from here. We agreed 35th is a nicer ride than Pershing.) Then he was saying he was having a hard time talking with his dad. "I can't talk to him the way we're talking now," he said.
"It's a lot easier to talk sometimes when you're not talking to your parents," I observed.
He grinned in recognition. Then he said, "I think I just have to chill and wait this out. Later on we will get along better."
I came out and he said hi right away. We had the longest conversation we've had in quite some time. He's been thinking about quitting school to get a job in a meatpacking plant up Ashland, north of Pershing. We had a long talk about how much more money you can make over the course of your life with a diploma than without one and how much easier it is to get your diploma by staying in school than if you drop out and try to go back or get a GED. By the end he seemed pretty convinced it was worth staying in school at least for the upcoming year, but who knows how long that will last.
He said a couple of very mature things in the course of our conversation. He says he is trying to straighten up and stay out of trouble. He's been bike riding out of the neighborhood, like biking to 31st Street beach, to be able to be outside without getting in trouble. (Maybe a month ago we had a conversation about the best way to ride to the beach from here. We agreed 35th is a nicer ride than Pershing.) Then he was saying he was having a hard time talking with his dad. "I can't talk to him the way we're talking now," he said.
"It's a lot easier to talk sometimes when you're not talking to your parents," I observed.
He grinned in recognition. Then he said, "I think I just have to chill and wait this out. Later on we will get along better."
Ad of the Day
There's a Bud Light billboard in Spanish above the railroad bridge facing Ashland Avenue just south of Pershing Road. My rough translation of it would say, "As good as finding mole like Grandma's."
Gotta say I think it would be a pretty big dis on your average abuelita to compare her mole with Bud Light!
Gotta say I think it would be a pretty big dis on your average abuelita to compare her mole with Bud Light!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Soccer Showdown
Shaun showed up at my door this evening. "Are you going to clean up again?" he asked me.
"I need to, don't I?" There was a styrofoam sandwich container sitting out front on the sidewalk, a couple of chip bags, some copies of Hoy's weekend edition in the street, etc.
"I'll help you," he offered.
"Let me get some bags." While I was back in the kitchen, James from two houses up came over and joined him. "Are you going to help clean up?"
"Sure."
"Let's all have blueberries when we get done," I suggested.
"I like blueberries!" James said. "I had them at camp." We cleaned up from my house to the traffic circle. First James held the bag and I picked up, then we switched. "Are you cleaning up for your barbecue?" he asked me.
"Kind of," I said.
"It's gonna get messy again."
"Yeah, but if we do this again Friday before the barbecue, they'll be less to do."
"Yeah," he agreed. Meanwhile, Shaun was jumping all over the traffic circle, digging under weeds to pull out trash.
"When you gonna clean my side?" asked Ms. Ribs, watching us from across the street.
"Maybe Friday, before the barbecue," I told her.
We went back to my house. The boys washed their hands in the bathroom. I washed mine in the kitchen and washed off the blueberries.
James found the mango on the counter and asked if he could have some. They took the blueberries out while I was still cutting up the mango.
When I came out, Shaun was done but James was still eating. He had some mango and then they started playing soccer. My new neighbors on the south side watched their one-on-one with interest. I kept score. They played to 21, then 32. No defense, but plenty of kicking--high shots, wide shots, lots of goals. Neither James nor Shaun speaks Spanish, but they know how to say "Gol" just like the Mexican kids. We were all hollering "gooooooool!!" and having a fine time.
My first crop of boys (Junior, Danny and Joey) are getting too old to play soccer in my yard, so it's nice to have some new sprouts coming along.
"I need to, don't I?" There was a styrofoam sandwich container sitting out front on the sidewalk, a couple of chip bags, some copies of Hoy's weekend edition in the street, etc.
"I'll help you," he offered.
"Let me get some bags." While I was back in the kitchen, James from two houses up came over and joined him. "Are you going to help clean up?"
"Sure."
"Let's all have blueberries when we get done," I suggested.
"I like blueberries!" James said. "I had them at camp." We cleaned up from my house to the traffic circle. First James held the bag and I picked up, then we switched. "Are you cleaning up for your barbecue?" he asked me.
"Kind of," I said.
"It's gonna get messy again."
"Yeah, but if we do this again Friday before the barbecue, they'll be less to do."
"Yeah," he agreed. Meanwhile, Shaun was jumping all over the traffic circle, digging under weeds to pull out trash.
"When you gonna clean my side?" asked Ms. Ribs, watching us from across the street.
"Maybe Friday, before the barbecue," I told her.
We went back to my house. The boys washed their hands in the bathroom. I washed mine in the kitchen and washed off the blueberries.
James found the mango on the counter and asked if he could have some. They took the blueberries out while I was still cutting up the mango.
When I came out, Shaun was done but James was still eating. He had some mango and then they started playing soccer. My new neighbors on the south side watched their one-on-one with interest. I kept score. They played to 21, then 32. No defense, but plenty of kicking--high shots, wide shots, lots of goals. Neither James nor Shaun speaks Spanish, but they know how to say "Gol" just like the Mexican kids. We were all hollering "gooooooool!!" and having a fine time.
My first crop of boys (Junior, Danny and Joey) are getting too old to play soccer in my yard, so it's nice to have some new sprouts coming along.
Making Dirt
Well, it only took me three years to get a composter, but there is finally an Earth Machine sitting at the bottom of the back stairs. It's about three feet high and two feet in diameter, made of black plastic.
"What's that for?" Joey asked me.
"It's for making dirt."
"What kind of dirt?"
"The kind like in my boxes, for growing stuff you can eat."
"Oh," he said, and went off to play.
Dawn's mother wanted to know if it would attract flies. It's not supposed to, if you do it right. Hope I get it right. There are enough flies in the backyard already.
But it's great to have a way to keep the good stuff from the many tomato branches I've pruned in the last week or so. I must have two hundred tomatoes growing from six plants. Way to go, Seeds of Hope Farm! Also, I think it's the alfalfa or sprouts or whatever my friend Chuck was growing in his dirt before I got his dirt and garden boxes for my yard.
"What's that for?" Joey asked me.
"It's for making dirt."
"What kind of dirt?"
"The kind like in my boxes, for growing stuff you can eat."
"Oh," he said, and went off to play.
Dawn's mother wanted to know if it would attract flies. It's not supposed to, if you do it right. Hope I get it right. There are enough flies in the backyard already.
But it's great to have a way to keep the good stuff from the many tomato branches I've pruned in the last week or so. I must have two hundred tomatoes growing from six plants. Way to go, Seeds of Hope Farm! Also, I think it's the alfalfa or sprouts or whatever my friend Chuck was growing in his dirt before I got his dirt and garden boxes for my yard.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
CAPS Meeting Last Night
The best news from last night's CAPS meeting at Chavez was that someone was arrested on Monday in connection with the car break-ins that have been taking place near 50th and Wood.
Sadly, the great sergeant who came last time has been replaced. The new sergeant did not seem to have any grasp of what had gone on at the previous meeting and was much less cheerful and welcoming to the community. He didn't even introduce himself or the other officers before starting the meeting. I hope I have time to call the district and complain this week. It was pretty frustrating.
The 5000 block of Marshfield is having problems with fights, drug sales and prostitution. Two or three families who don't come regularly made a point to come last night and ask for help. It was decided this is the top priority from now until next meeting. Other hotspots are on Hermitage and up along 48th between Paulina and Hermitage.
Ald. Cochran's representative was there again. Ald. Thompson has yet to send a representative. I heard that Ald. Thompson will be at Holy Cross for a meeting at 7 p.m. this Thursday night. If you live in the ward and can attend, please do. I'll be working, unfortunately.
Next meeting for Beat 931 is Monday August 20th, 6 p.m. at Chavez. City services will be discussed at 6, and Emilio Carrasquillo from NHS will be speaking on home ownership. The police will arrive at 6:30 p.m.
Sadly, the great sergeant who came last time has been replaced. The new sergeant did not seem to have any grasp of what had gone on at the previous meeting and was much less cheerful and welcoming to the community. He didn't even introduce himself or the other officers before starting the meeting. I hope I have time to call the district and complain this week. It was pretty frustrating.
The 5000 block of Marshfield is having problems with fights, drug sales and prostitution. Two or three families who don't come regularly made a point to come last night and ask for help. It was decided this is the top priority from now until next meeting. Other hotspots are on Hermitage and up along 48th between Paulina and Hermitage.
Ald. Cochran's representative was there again. Ald. Thompson has yet to send a representative. I heard that Ald. Thompson will be at Holy Cross for a meeting at 7 p.m. this Thursday night. If you live in the ward and can attend, please do. I'll be working, unfortunately.
Next meeting for Beat 931 is Monday August 20th, 6 p.m. at Chavez. City services will be discussed at 6, and Emilio Carrasquillo from NHS will be speaking on home ownership. The police will arrive at 6:30 p.m.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
CAPS meeting tomorrow
Beat 931 will hold its monthly CAPS meeting tomorrow at 6:30 p.m. at Chavez Elementary School. Sure hope the person posting about car break-ins can make it!
Big Picture in the Reader
In the last week of June, a group of students from Big Picture attended "One Week, One Neighborhood," sponsored by DePaul Universitiy's Chaddick Institute. They learned about neighborhood planning by taking a close look at Back of the Yards. If you haven't seen Ben Joravsky's piece this week about what they learned, check it out here.
There's a suggestion in the piece that the city use some Loop TIF money to pay to buy the Goldblatt's building at Ashland and 47th and turn it into a community center. I believe I wrote a year or two ago about an effort to get the Chicago Public Library to buy it and use it as a branch. (That didn't get far, obviously.) I thought I heard a rumor that some big chain was going to move in there, but I haven't seen any evidence of that. Also, on the TIF point--Back of the Yards does have its own TIF. From what I've heard, there's not much money in it (surprise, surprise), but I just wanted to observe that it does exist. Some day I could write a long post on TIFs and how they've been abused, but Ben does that so much better than I do, I'll leave it to him. I would guess that a Back of the Yards TIF could be one of the better examples left in the city of what a TIF was supposed to be: a pot of money pulled from the general tax pool to help revive a struggling neighborhood. I don't know which alderman or aldermen control this TIF, either, which would be good to know.
There's a suggestion in the piece that the city use some Loop TIF money to pay to buy the Goldblatt's building at Ashland and 47th and turn it into a community center. I believe I wrote a year or two ago about an effort to get the Chicago Public Library to buy it and use it as a branch. (That didn't get far, obviously.) I thought I heard a rumor that some big chain was going to move in there, but I haven't seen any evidence of that. Also, on the TIF point--Back of the Yards does have its own TIF. From what I've heard, there's not much money in it (surprise, surprise), but I just wanted to observe that it does exist. Some day I could write a long post on TIFs and how they've been abused, but Ben does that so much better than I do, I'll leave it to him. I would guess that a Back of the Yards TIF could be one of the better examples left in the city of what a TIF was supposed to be: a pot of money pulled from the general tax pool to help revive a struggling neighborhood. I don't know which alderman or aldermen control this TIF, either, which would be good to know.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Postcard from Oregon
For readers who've been looking for new posts, my apologies. I'm on vacation in Oregon and took a real vacation from everything, including this blog. But now it's time for a couple of comments:
First, to respond to the neighbor who commented back in June about car break-ins, thanks for your comment and for alerting others to the severity of the problem. The next CAPS meeting is Monday July 16, 6:30 p.m. at Chavez Elementary. I hope you can make it and talk with the officers about your experience. Right now there is a new sergeant, Sgt. Whitney (I think), and he took careful note of problems raised at the last meeting and promised he would report on what the police did in response at the next meeting. I believe that is standards CAPS practice and I've seen meetings in another beat (in Woodlawn) where they really did it that way, but this is the first time I've seen it in our beat.
Second, in honor of Independence Day, I just wanted to reflect briefly on a conversation I overheard in the Holy Cross parking lot before I left town. After Mass, two young men were talking about the USA/Mexico Gold Cup championship game and who to root for. One was for the US, the other for Mexico. Just a couple of quotes:
Mr. USA: "Don't we owe everything to this country? If our parents had stayed in Mexico, we would never have had all these opportunties."
Sr. Mexico: "Yeah, but don't we owe something to where we came from? Especially when this country has done so much to weaken Mexico?"
Here in Oregon, we toasted over dinner on July 4 to "the United States, still the best country in the world to live in despite everything." I've been reading a book out here about immigrants to the US, in which someone said, "America is everyone's second country." With the recent immigration debate, it seems like many people want to blow out the lamp lifted by the door at the same time we've made it even harder for people to live peacefully in their own home countries. It just seems to me we can't have it both ways--strong-arming countries to do our economic and political bidding, then complaining when their people leave for economic and even political reasons of our making and come here looking for a better life. Ironically, if the US were a more responsible world citizen, we'd have many fewer people sneaking over fences and overstaying visas to live here. Happy belated Fourth of July!
First, to respond to the neighbor who commented back in June about car break-ins, thanks for your comment and for alerting others to the severity of the problem. The next CAPS meeting is Monday July 16, 6:30 p.m. at Chavez Elementary. I hope you can make it and talk with the officers about your experience. Right now there is a new sergeant, Sgt. Whitney (I think), and he took careful note of problems raised at the last meeting and promised he would report on what the police did in response at the next meeting. I believe that is standards CAPS practice and I've seen meetings in another beat (in Woodlawn) where they really did it that way, but this is the first time I've seen it in our beat.
Second, in honor of Independence Day, I just wanted to reflect briefly on a conversation I overheard in the Holy Cross parking lot before I left town. After Mass, two young men were talking about the USA/Mexico Gold Cup championship game and who to root for. One was for the US, the other for Mexico. Just a couple of quotes:
Mr. USA: "Don't we owe everything to this country? If our parents had stayed in Mexico, we would never have had all these opportunties."
Sr. Mexico: "Yeah, but don't we owe something to where we came from? Especially when this country has done so much to weaken Mexico?"
Here in Oregon, we toasted over dinner on July 4 to "the United States, still the best country in the world to live in despite everything." I've been reading a book out here about immigrants to the US, in which someone said, "America is everyone's second country." With the recent immigration debate, it seems like many people want to blow out the lamp lifted by the door at the same time we've made it even harder for people to live peacefully in their own home countries. It just seems to me we can't have it both ways--strong-arming countries to do our economic and political bidding, then complaining when their people leave for economic and even political reasons of our making and come here looking for a better life. Ironically, if the US were a more responsible world citizen, we'd have many fewer people sneaking over fences and overstaying visas to live here. Happy belated Fourth of July!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Dawn Hits the Road Less Traveled
Well. ladies and gentlemen, Dawn made it to O'Hare today. Gracias a Dios. She and her mom told me she was up all last night packing. I got up at 5:30 a.m., splashed off, got dressed and was just grabbing a couple of granola bars when she called saying she was ready to go.
Her mom and her little bitty brother and I all went with her. Her mom handed me the keys and said, "You driving?" Sure. I knew I would be. I have driven to O'Hare before, but I'd never had to park there. Traffic on the Dan Ryan was terrible at 6 a.m. I got off at 43rd and went over to King Drive to get downtown and pick up 90/94 from there. It was slow to the airport from there but not terrible. We got there just a little after 7 a.m. for an 8:55 flight. She had to check bags, so I went in with her and she said goodbye to her mom and brother at the car in the parking lot (Cubs level). She and her mom gave each other two or three big hugs.
I was nervous about airport security since she only has her school ID. She's only 15 years old, for God's sake. She was asking me about bag claim and how that works as we were going on the moving walkway under the terminals. She'd never been to O'Hare before. "It's big," she said, wide-eyed on the escalator into the terminal.
"Welcome to O'Hare," I said as we came up to the bag claim level. She laughed. I went to the counter with her while she checked luggage and stayed in line with her right up until she was going to security. I promised I would watch until she was going to the gate. She smiled when she spotted me as she was waiting to go through the metal detector. When she was done and had her carry-on back, she gave me a big wave. I waved back. She headed to the left--the right way for the gate, and gave me a last wave and a big smile before she went out of sight. Yay!
Dawn's mom and brother and I stopped for breakfast on the way back. We went to Cafe Selmarie in Lincoln Square and we ran into the sister-in-law of someone from our block! I went and said hello to her (she speaks more English than Spanish). Dawn's mom was saying she is really happy Dawn is doing this trip and hopes she will learn a lot from it. She really looks to her daughter as the one who will go places and do things her own parents stopped her from doing. She wanted to continue her education in Mexico past upper elementary school/junior high but her father said no.
I gave them a quick tour of Uptown, my old neighborhood, after breakfast. "This is our trip," I said. She asked how much houses cost up there and was shocked when I told her my house would cost at least double in Uptown compared to what it cost in our neighborhood.
There's no trip news yet, but check "Ridges and Rapids I" on the link for how her trip is going, if you are interested.
Her mom and her little bitty brother and I all went with her. Her mom handed me the keys and said, "You driving?" Sure. I knew I would be. I have driven to O'Hare before, but I'd never had to park there. Traffic on the Dan Ryan was terrible at 6 a.m. I got off at 43rd and went over to King Drive to get downtown and pick up 90/94 from there. It was slow to the airport from there but not terrible. We got there just a little after 7 a.m. for an 8:55 flight. She had to check bags, so I went in with her and she said goodbye to her mom and brother at the car in the parking lot (Cubs level). She and her mom gave each other two or three big hugs.
I was nervous about airport security since she only has her school ID. She's only 15 years old, for God's sake. She was asking me about bag claim and how that works as we were going on the moving walkway under the terminals. She'd never been to O'Hare before. "It's big," she said, wide-eyed on the escalator into the terminal.
"Welcome to O'Hare," I said as we came up to the bag claim level. She laughed. I went to the counter with her while she checked luggage and stayed in line with her right up until she was going to security. I promised I would watch until she was going to the gate. She smiled when she spotted me as she was waiting to go through the metal detector. When she was done and had her carry-on back, she gave me a big wave. I waved back. She headed to the left--the right way for the gate, and gave me a last wave and a big smile before she went out of sight. Yay!
Dawn's mom and brother and I stopped for breakfast on the way back. We went to Cafe Selmarie in Lincoln Square and we ran into the sister-in-law of someone from our block! I went and said hello to her (she speaks more English than Spanish). Dawn's mom was saying she is really happy Dawn is doing this trip and hopes she will learn a lot from it. She really looks to her daughter as the one who will go places and do things her own parents stopped her from doing. She wanted to continue her education in Mexico past upper elementary school/junior high but her father said no.
I gave them a quick tour of Uptown, my old neighborhood, after breakfast. "This is our trip," I said. She asked how much houses cost up there and was shocked when I told her my house would cost at least double in Uptown compared to what it cost in our neighborhood.
There's no trip news yet, but check "Ridges and Rapids I" on the link for how her trip is going, if you are interested.
Monday, June 25, 2007
What Will It Take?
What Will It Take? is the Chicago Foundation for Women's campaign to make Illinois the safest state in the U.S. for women and girls. That's where the ad on the Orange Line came from. You can see the ad here.
Elsewhere on the site you can view stats on different kinds of violence against girls and women, find hotlines for important services, comment on discussion boards and even sign up to volunteer. They even have a men's initiative that is hosting a forum tomorrow on whether art and media cause violence against women and girls.
The project continues all year, so check back to their site for more events if you are interested. They've made a real effort to connect to this community, speaking at Peace and Education meeting and holding an event at West Side Tech that was well-publicized to groups here.
Elsewhere on the site you can view stats on different kinds of violence against girls and women, find hotlines for important services, comment on discussion boards and even sign up to volunteer. They even have a men's initiative that is hosting a forum tomorrow on whether art and media cause violence against women and girls.
The project continues all year, so check back to their site for more events if you are interested. They've made a real effort to connect to this community, speaking at Peace and Education meeting and holding an event at West Side Tech that was well-publicized to groups here.
Cornell Park Soccer
...wasn't quite what I was hoping for. Joey was the only one who showed up, though some other kids had already registered. They gave us a registration form and he and I filled it out together, except for the part for a parent's signature. There was a pickup game going on at the far end of the park, so I suggested he go play.
While Joey was playing pickup soccer since the official soccer wasn't happening, I had to get on a conference call for something work-related. So wow, I'm a fake soccer mom! On a conference call in the park while the kids play soccer. Whoda thunk you'd see that in Cornell Park? Joey did a pretty good job as goalie, then they let him play forward for a while.
The unfortunate wrinkle about playing from 2:30 to 3:30 is it is sunny and hot. Joey got a little wiped out from the heat and sun, so he bowed out and lay down under the tree where I was listening in on my call. I didn't have much to say on this call, so I could go get him water. I just hope they didn't hear all the kid noise when I went in the field house to get a cup.
Apparently Cornell Park has two gyms for basketball and such, but no weight room. It has a pool, too. Swimming lessons are free. I should ask if Joey wants to do that. He wants to box but it's full at Davis Square and Cornell doesn't offer it. I asked him if he wanted to do karate, but he said no. Shoot.
While Joey was playing pickup soccer since the official soccer wasn't happening, I had to get on a conference call for something work-related. So wow, I'm a fake soccer mom! On a conference call in the park while the kids play soccer. Whoda thunk you'd see that in Cornell Park? Joey did a pretty good job as goalie, then they let him play forward for a while.
The unfortunate wrinkle about playing from 2:30 to 3:30 is it is sunny and hot. Joey got a little wiped out from the heat and sun, so he bowed out and lay down under the tree where I was listening in on my call. I didn't have much to say on this call, so I could go get him water. I just hope they didn't hear all the kid noise when I went in the field house to get a cup.
Apparently Cornell Park has two gyms for basketball and such, but no weight room. It has a pool, too. Swimming lessons are free. I should ask if Joey wants to do that. He wants to box but it's full at Davis Square and Cornell doesn't offer it. I asked him if he wanted to do karate, but he said no. Shoot.
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