Overheard

One of my neighbors, talking on her cell phone:

"MCCAIN!!!...Why?"

Strawberry Underpants Skater

This is a few blocks from my house. Is it a Rebus? An underground religion? A heraldic crest? Suggestions welcome.

Photo by: eschlabach

Lost in translation

I remember when news editors collectively lost it after the release of Sex, Lies, and Videotape, in 1989. Every other headline seemed to be a variation of the title, e.g. "Sex, Lies and Protein Supplements". Just so, this post has nothing to do with the Sofia Coppola film about two American expats in Tokyo. (For the record, I hope to live long enough to see Scarlett Johansson age into a botoxed has-been.)

Once again, a person asked me for directions--in Spanish. This has happened twice before, always outside the Logan Square stop of the Blue Line. Now, I am fairly tall, and also possess the glowing complexion of a vampire bride. If you had recently arrived from El Salvador, and spoke no English, would you approach a giant blue-white woman and ask her for directions? I just don't get it. Perhaps I look kind; or perhaps I look like someone who will actually try to answer, using amusingly mangled high-school Spanish.

One morning while I was waiting for the Diversey bus, two men who looked like laborers asked me for the time. Actually, one man said "Excuse" and pointed at his wrist. Sure, I could have just shrugged, or shown him the time on my cell phone. But why waste an opportunity to speak another language poorly? "Esta...soy..uh,never mind...Diez!...y...y...cinquenta. No, no...QUINCE!" I pumped my fist in the air, and they applauded.

photo: Julio's Auto Supply, at Diversey and Sacramento

Stop the Beardness

It's should be over. For God's sake, the New York Times said it was trendy in 2006, so why are we still seeing these crusty-looking beards on 25-year-olds? Tonight, while I was walking home, a man emerged from my alley holding what looked like a bunched-up plastic bag. He was wearing a hunter's cap with earflaps, wrinkled work pants, a flannel shirt, and had a long, matted beard. Another beard-core hipster, I thought to myself, and stared at him a little too long. "Hiyah sweetie, " he mumbled. He looked a little unsteady. I could then see that he had a Forty in the bag, and was probably closer to 50 than 25. Just an ordinary neighborhood drunk, unaware that he looked trendy.

Ted Nugent is my shepherd; I shall not want

While waiting for the bus recently, I noticed a storefront with a number of photos and fliers taped to the inside window.

"YOUTH, TEENS, GANGS...WHAT IS THE ANSWER?" one of the fliers asks, rhetorically. "IT'S NOT CONVENTIONAL SOCIAL PROGRAMS...IT'S NOT PUTTING A BASKETBALL IN THEIR HANDS...IT'S NOT 'TAKING THEM TO CHURCH'..."
A posterboard covered with photos is captioned "WE DO HAVE FUN HERE!! We are starting a new church in Logan Square." Photos include fun-loving Christians wearing full camo, practicing cross-bow technique, and propping up the the head of a recently killed buck, with bloody tongue dangling out of its mouth.

Services are at 11 am, and they're not taking any hostages.

I see naked people

The best conversation flows effortlessly from one topic to another; one hardly where it's going. I had one of those on Saturday, while drinking a framboise with a friend at a local bar. One minute we were talking Belgian beer, and a few minutes later, the naked neighbors.*

For a while in 2005, everyone in our little corner of Avondale seemed to know where and when the naked people could be spotted. There were three of them living together on the second floor of a corner building. They all seemed to enjoy taking early evening showers. The window directly adjacent to the shower wasn't frosted enough to provide privacy. It probably looked ok from inside, but from the outside, especially at dusk, it provided a live nude show.

I first learned about it from my tenant Chris, who used to walk around the block when he needed a smoke. At about seven on a warm spring evening, he noticed a bunch of little boys gathered across the street, looking up at something. It was a shapely young woman washing her hair. "She was beautiful," he said, dreamily. Our neighbor Marji was not so entranced. Sometimes a man was in the shower, and she said he was "throwing himself around like King Kong." I'm not sure what that meant, but it sounded kind of transgressive. She put a note in their mailbox, which said something like "Everybody can see you taking showers!!" But, the shows continued.

It became a running joke. As I stood on the sidewalk talking to Jo-jo, who has lived on our block for over 40 years, Marji's husband came out to join us. "I know what you're out here for!" she teased. I seemed to be the only person on the block who hadn't seen the naked neighbors. Finally, as I walked home from the train, I glanced up and saw number three, a heavier woman. They were right, you could see everything. She didn't have as large of a following as her more slender roommate, but there was one spectator of note, sitting in a police squad car. The officer watched with his window down, while enjoying a cigar.

*An analysis shows that most of the digression was due to my own ADDish brain: Belgian beer>my friend's friendly bartender in Ghent>a bartender i met in Amsterdam who used to live in Chicago and was fascinated by the obesity of our police force>the cop i saw chasing a suspect while holding a cup of coffee>the cop who smoked cigars on his beat>the time he was watching the woman showering>the naked neighbors

Fall Back in Fall

Mosmi's Coin Laundry. Avondale, Chicago.

Overheard

This was a few years ago, near Halloween. I was sitting on my porch reading as a group of really tough-looking gangster girls wearing MLD* colors walked by.
"Oh RIGHT...like she can AFFORD that many pumpkins!"

*Maniac Latin Disciples