A $10 Sunday

Outside the art fair, a little boy, pictured, was selling Garbage Pail Kids magnets his cousin had made, at $2 a pop.

On the way home I spotted a garage sale. And this planter, for $2.

Oh yeah, and the Sunday NYT, $6.

It was $10 happily spent...

Ted Kennedy's Incident

A guy in my comedy class wrote a hilarious sketch about U.S. Senator Ted Kennedy at the gates of Heaven. Without exposing the sketch, which I feel like could easily be on stage, it also included the hard-to-forget tidbit, or "incident" (I love it when politicians do something horrific it's an "incident," whereas with regular folks it's a "crime") about Ted Kennedy leaving the scene of an accident where a young woman, a campaign worker named Mary Jo Kopechne, had drowned in the passenger seat beside him in the Summer of 1969. Kennedy and Mary Jo were returning from a Fourth of July picnic. He was much older than most of the people at the picnic, and married.

The evening before Mary Jo's body was discovered, Kennedy had driven his car off of a bridge on Chappaquiddick Island, Massachusetts. Kennedy managed to escape from the submerged car, and fled the scene. Mary Jo drowned by suffocation. It was determined that she may have survived had the rescue effort been more immediate. Instead, her body was found the following morning by a diver whom was alerted to the submerged car by two amateur fisherman, per Wikipedia.

Truthfully, outside of having read Black Water, a Joyce Carol Oates novel that fictionalizes the 'incident,' and gets inside the head of Mary Jo Kopechne whom tells a first person, stream of consciousness tale as she is drowning, I didn't know much else about Ted Kennedy. In the sketch I learned that he helped usher in the American with Disabilities Act, and various other important pieces of our country's legislation that have helped people of color, people with AIDS, etc.

Still, though, when I think of Ted Kennedy, I think of Black Water. And of how awesome of a writer Joyce Carol Oates is. She has been criticized by some for being too prolific-- as if there is a such a thing!-- (with an exclamatory break in a sentence like that being of JCO's style)-- though I suspect those critics are just jealous. I also suspect Mary Jo's family is thankful to JCO and those whom refuse to let the story of their daughter rest as easily as Ted Kennedy's life, which continued effortlessly minus the speed bump that was Mary Jo Kopechne.

Barack Obama as Chia Pet, Then & Now

Back at the end of March I was dismayed to see a Barack Obama "Determined Pose" Chia Pet for sale at Walgreens, and wrote about it here on GONE, as well as on the WindyCitizen.com

All over the country, other Walgreen's shoppers weren't impressed, either. The doll was removed from Walgreen's shelves, though not before this North Ave. shop owner had purchased one, and began planting Obama's hair.

Here are two photos of Chia Obama, one taking in early April, and one snapped yesterday afternoon while en route to a meeting. Both shots are of the same chia pet, in the same window.

Did the owner decide it wasn't worth watering anymore?? Note: There are other healthy plants in this shop. Why was this one neglected? The hairs on Obama's head kind of look like from a weeping willow tree....

The Cat Colony That Never Transpired

I am so sick of talking about my idiotic, self absorbed, underemployed, whiny life, and the weekly eNewsletter, that it's time to talk about something else. Like my cat.

An embarrassing thing happened, for which I feel much shame. It involves a failed cat colony in my building.

Lest anyone think I'm a crazy cat lady, the colony actually involved expunging my cat to the hallway, kind of like one big Alcatraz, but for cats. For anyone that knows my cat, he's a terror. A simple, furry hug one moment, and an Oh-Gosh-Where-Did-I-Put-That-Neosporin- hunt the next. Sure, he looks adorable, and innocent from all the self absorbed coverage I've given him, but the fact is that Koji cannot be trusted.

Over the years I've more or less kept Koji's bad behavior to myself, lest I face embarrassment, and old as time nurture vs. nature debate. Surely Koji must be the product of years of bad parenting, executed by yours truly? Perhaps I fed him too much, or didn't play with him enough, or provide enough toys, or enough discipline. Perhaps instead of videotaping him when he jumped from couch, to ceiling, I should have been telling him not to engage in dangerous, reckless behavior.

In any case, here I am, the shamed parent of a 10-year-old son with bright brown eyes whom is slamming his body against the office door as I type this. Should I not be responding to his cries, playing yet again with the wand, and magic dangling catnip filled fish? If I were a better parent would I get away from this damn computer, and engage in constructive, informal play with my son, whom has grown up before my eyes, and is now like in the body of an old man, carrying all the bad habits I assisted him in developing like a badge, or an albatross, depending on the day, and his mood?

And so, it was this weariness, and overall sense of defeat from dealing with him myself over the years which led to my seeking out other playmates for Koji. I looked no further than my neighborhs, whom have a small black cat, a perfect play mate of the same species whom I imagine would be a better fit for hanging out with 18-plus hours each day.

In the beginning, things were close to utopian, that thrill of having both had tough past lives in the alleys, fending off rats, and then being carted from shelter, to shelter, and then finally in the hallways of a new building meeting somebody that looked just like you, and could hang out with you almost as if you had both floated in the same sea before birth was pretty intense.
Salem, and Koji, oh did they play! I have many photos of their early days together.

Soon, the visits became more frequent. It was almost as if they each hated their respective apartments so much - and perhaps, their parents-- that they began doing whatever it takes to break out into the hallways- darting through a mother's legs while she is in a hurry to get to her tarot reading job- crying all hours, convincing their parents to send text messages to each other coordinating play dates amid the three busy schedules of an unemployed sales professional, an unemployed recent college graduate and dog walker, and a mostly unemployed student that is perhaps still foolish enough to believe he'll get an awesome job when he graduates.

Maybe it got to the point where I no longer cared how much time my boy spent in the hallway, away from me, and his hearth. Maybe I secretly wanted Koji, and Salem to run away together, and visit perhaps on the Jewish High Holidays, and maybe New Year's Eve. Whatever it was, I admit that as a parent I became distracted, lulled by a combination of other priorities, and an instinctive feeling that my cat was truly happier doing his own thing, and perhaps the day-time cat colony would be a change in the right direction for both of us. A healthy change.

That optimism, and audacity of hope has since faded. It came to my attention from a concerned custodian about a month ago that there had been complaints of cats running loose in the halls. Some unkind words were exchanged, mainly from him, to me, and I scurried away with my boy, saddened and disturbed by other allegations I had heard, very inappropriate, taboo behaviors witnessed by neighbors whom perhaps did not know the story of the cat colony, just that there were two domesticated pets leaving excrement in their hallway.

Ashamed, I have locked Koji away in our home since that day, like a tortured Kaspar Hauser, and not the boy that once looked into his girl neighbor's eyes, and declared that his Papa was a Rodeo, too. I have, however, since seen Salem in the hallway, sometimes giving me a soulful gaze as I walked by, perhaps wanting so desperately to be the lucky person to open my door, and spend the remainder of the evening in Koji's company. Salem may even be wondering if I really deserve Koji's presence in my life. On one instance a few weeks ago I became aware of excrement, and, as Koji had not been in the hall for some time, I assumed it to be hailing from the butt hole of another cat, yet cleaned it up on behalf of the colony. I sent a note to Salem's parents saying I had cleaned up cat shit, and was it theirs? Or mine? Maybe my boy had snuck out? Was it possible?

On August 24th, a good 30 days after Koji had been confined to the apartment, I received this note tucked between my doorknob, and the wall.

To the Tenants at XXX-XXX and XXX-XXX W. XXX Ave.
Please be advised that we have received complaints of cats running loose in the hallway. Additionally the halls have been littered with excrement. This is causing a health and safety issue in the building. You must keep your cats in your apartments at all times. Cats can not be let loose in the hallways.

Thank You,
My landlord whom shall remain anonymous, but is awesome

I sent my landlord a note of apology, and a bit of explanation about the cat colony, though I did not use the word colony, for fear of being perceived of another dimension. Rather, I discussed Koji's past as an outdoor cat, and his desire to play with the neighbor's cat, also formerly from the streets.

Now, I'm off to give my boy some love. In absence of a colony I am going to give him something even better: a Family. And quality family time.

Headlines in the Non News

Chicago Selects Vendor for Privatizing Its Wind

AT&T, Sony, Playstation Rock Out Lollapalooza

Kosher Jews Evade Swine Flu

Chicago 2016 Logo Appears in Local Woman's Discharge

U.S. Government Wants Your 1996 Chevy Celebrity

Kiddieland Slated to Close, Kids too Fat for Rides Anyway

A-Z with Wicker Park's Sidewalk Sale

Truth be told, I have class on Saturday afternoon, and with discretionary spending on lockdown, I might not be able to do much shopping at this weekend's Wicker Park Bucktown Sidewalk Sale, but that won't stop me from trying to help spread the word of the sale. It takes place this Saturday, and Sunday, from 11 am until 6 p.m. Links to the web sites of all of the aforementioned stores can be found in this newsletter, where the A-Z story initially appeared.

Following is an A-Z breakdown of all of the participants, and some photos of either the merchants, and/or their products (see tagged labels at bottom). Please note: Vintage Underground, and Hollywood Cleaners will also be participating in the sale.

If all of these stores were hypothetically programmed into a phone, there'd be a lot of pocket dials to Affordable Furniture (1314 Milw.), which is first on the queue. I met Affordable's owner a few months ago, and recall seeing fun pieces on display, like a child's lampshade shaped like a basketball. American Apparel (1563 N. Milw.) needs no introduction, though it serves as our nation's shiny tights HQ, and place to find comfortable, solid colored clothing, or at least according to the five different shades of black American Apparel shirts a woman that wishes to remain anonymous and writes this newsletter reportedly owns.

Belmont Army (1318 N. Milw.) has a bargain basement that is worth a pop in. Beta Boutique (2016 W. Concord, near Silver Cloud on Damen) has not-so-secret-super sales, but its location is a bit off the beaten path, and for a good reason: if it were easier to find I suspect it would be even more crowded. Bonnie and Clyde's (1751 W. Division) reminds me of another era, and recently held a party with sales up to 60% that will hopefully be extended to the sidewalk racks this weekend, too. The leather purse with the "handgun" embedded in its design, pictured, is from B and C. I think it costs like half my rent, so I shall stalk this purse from afar...

Cat and Mouse (2218 W. Armitage) is the place to find a board game, though you might want to save it for the last stop in case you end up staying a while, and playing it. Clothes Minded (1735 N. Damen) always seems to offer cozy sweaters, jeans that actually fit actual women's bodies, and baubles at the register perfect for tugging at the inner impulse buyer's pocketbook, not like I know by experience, or anything...

Elevenzees (1901 W. Division) got its name from the English custom of elevenses, involving a mid-morning snack with a cup of tea, which was a relaxing, and inspiring time of day for the store owner's father, if I recall correctly from a brief conversation long ago. Eskell (1509 N. Milwaukee) does a great job of mixing vintage, and new fashions, and partnered with Beta Boutique on its sample sale this past weekend. Eskell also carries quirky items like socks with cats on them, such as a pair recently given to me as a gift from a neighbor, and which I am looking forward to wearing on the next cold day, though I hope that day never comes. Wouldn't it be nice if summer lasted forever?

Findables (1643 N. Milw.) is an all around perfect spot for holiday gifts, housewares, eclectic pieces, topsy turvy dolls, vintage items, and much more. Previously written about in Street Scene, Findables will be closing soon, and consolidating some of its bestselling inventory to sister store, StoreB (1472 N. Milw.)

g Boutique (2131 N. Damen) was full of men on a recent pop in, presumably purchasing lingerie for women, something I wasn't aware of happening in real life, but for the sake of g Boutique I'm glad it is occurring in full force on a random Tuesday afternoon. Grasshopper 510 (1944 N. Damen) was featured in Chicago Reader's Boutique of the Week column. Greenheart Shop (1911 W. Division) offers eco-friendly treasures, and unique gifts like a clutch made of bottle tabs. For more photos, go inside Greenheart via Streets of Wicker.

Habit (1951 W. Division) is just a lot of fun to pop in, and out of, and if my memory serves correct there's still a few one-size-fits most colorful dresses on its circular display. One of those said dresses became my sole big ticket splurge of the summer, though the next morning I got a towing ticket for roughly the same amount spent on the dress, which reminded me to be careful with splurging, and parking, though I love the dress, and have received many a compliment on it, so no regrets, and thanks, Habit! Hunny Boutique (2027 N. Damen), Hejfina (1529 N. Milwaukee), and Helen Yi (1645 N. Damen) are mysteries, though I guess that means I need to check them out. For now, though, take a virtual tour of Hunny Boutique.

Joe's Jeans (1715 N. Damen) uses alliteration in its name, and I'm assuming sells jeans. Le Dress (1741 W. Division) recently won a 'Battle of the Boutiques' award. Lenny and Me (1459 N. Milwaukee) also won a 'Best Of' award. p.45 (1643 N. Damen) recenty hosted a spa night, per p.45's Facebook page. There's no doubt that Pour Vous (1750 W. Division) will probably find a way to make the sidewalk outside of its storefront smell good during the al fresco shopping bonanza. Psychobaby (1630 N. Damen) is a magical place for hipster moms, and doting aunts.


Ragstock (1433 N. Milw.) also has a bargain basement, and walls full of merchandise you can stare at for five minutes and still miss seeing at least three things. Spoil Me (1533 N. Milw.) and its owner, Caitin, will offer up deals at the sale in celebration of Spoil Me's recent three year anniversary! Stitch (1723 N. Damen) for some reason was heavily photographed one day when I was early for a meeting at Stitch's neighbor, caffe De Luca, so click here to go inside Stitch via de luca's neighborhood album on Facebook. Threadless Kids (1905 W. Division) and Urban Outfitters (1521 N. Milw.) are also participating in the sale.




vive la femme (2048 N. Damen) recently celebrated its seventh anniversary, and specializes in fuller figured fashions from a variety of designers like Kingley, and Posh, click here for a recent press release. Virtu (2034 N. Damen) carries Letterpress stationary, which I just found out about via its site. Veruca Salt (1921 N. Damen), Wicker Park Fitness (1735 W. Division), and Wow & Zen (1912 N. Damen) are all also participating.

$2 lunch West of Western

Drained from walking around the neighborhood, I flushed the newsletter out of my head, and headed west, to check out a friend's new condo, and to sit on a bench in the park.

Burger King, or a buggy? The choice was clear. I got a mini jibarito for $1.25, along with a $0.75 cent soda, and soon watched the pigeons watch me, as they circled near the bench where I was sitting. I read part of this past Sunday's NYT, and found its magazine's cover story,

"What's a Big City Without a Newspaper?"

interesting. While there's been no shortage of coverage on the death of newspapers, and its future, this story focused on an unlikely cheerleader to keep a Philadelphia daily going: a former PR spin doc with a lot of influence, and passion for the printed word.

An excerpt from writer Michael Sokolove's story is as follows: Journalists still know how to gather news. And the Internet is a step forward in disseminating it. What's broken is the pipeline that sends money back to where the content is created."


I hadn't seen the word pipeline used in that way to describe what's going on, but it makes sense. Pictured is a mini jibarito, and a woman named Jamie, and her friend's puppy, Munchi, whom were ahead of me in line at the buggy.