winter in july

Why would I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about winter?  Is it because I'm already nervous about what I may be facing come November?  I've been nervous about it since moving here, like a dreaded visit to the dentist; you know it's coming, but you don't have to like it.

One of the 2 things people gasp about when mentioning Chicago is the winters (I've already addressed the traffic).  I really have no idea what I'm facing until it gets here, and hopefully it will be kind to me.  Still, being a true Southerner, I have major concerns.  It's not the cold that wakes me in the middle of the night - I think I can handle cold; you just bundle up and try not to be out in it more than necessary.  The white stuff is what has me sweating bullets.  I don't do snow.  I think it's beautiful, and love to see it falling, and think a pristine landscape of new-fallen snow brings a luster of midday...I mean, is a wondrous sight.  All of this is because I so rarely experience any of it.

Snow, where I come from, is a treat.  It's a rarity, especially more than a "dusting" of it.  Even more rare is enough snow that it causes driving issues.  Last winter in Alabama, we did have more snow than in a decade or so, but still never more than an inch or two at a time.  The problems caused by the snow was not so much the snow as the low supply of salty stuff to melt it from the roadways.  When you don't expect to need much, you don't waste money stocking up.

Here, people talk about snow as a fact of life, and I'm sure it is.  But I thought they had things like snowplows and salt trucks to whisk it away, making driving no more of an issue than any other day.  Evidently, there's not enough of either to clear all the roads, and while my drive to work consists primarily of main thoroughfares, I suppose I will be forced to face a snow and ice covered street somewhere along the way.

Co-workers suggest I will need to swap my perfectly good tires out for "snow" tires.  My imagination soars...tires filled with salt that sprays out ahead of my path and clears the way, or tires with little spikes like boots climbers use.  Research, however, tells me they have special treads that bite into snow for better traction, and softer rubber to stay flexible in the cold.  The biggest question, however, is what to do with my "regular" tires?  Put them in the living room covered with a comforter and call it a spare chair?

The best suggestion by far is the "practice" suggestion.  A guy said at the first snow, I should find a big, empty parking lot and practice driving.  Sound advice except for two immediate holes - first, how do I get to the big empty lot without driving in the snow, and second, where the hell am I going to find a big empty lot in downtown Chicago?

There are all kinds of ways to practice things, like your golf swing, or surfing, or skiing, without going to any of the actual venues for those things.  Where can I find a place to practice snow-driving before faced with the reality?  Unfortunately, my practice will take place in the real world, and just like everything else here, once I try it a few times, I'm sure I'll become quite the pro.  If my car is still in one piece.

home is where your stuff is

Given that I have 3 weeks of vacation time to burn this year, and I only had taken 3 days to this point, I took a week off work.  Of course the only thing to do was to go home for a few days.  See the family - the ones that had not recently been here - and a few friends, stop by the plant to see if they miss me, and finish clearing leftover junk from my soon-to-be-someone-else's house.

I left Chicago Saturday morning early and hit the road.  I figured if I drove down, I'd have a car in order to do whatever running around I needed without inconveniencing anyone else.  Besides, I've always loved driving.  It's a great time to have long conversations with yourself and settle whatever issues may be hanging around in the back of your mind.  And it's not a bad drive at all - pretty countryside, only a couple of cities large enough that you have to time it around rush hours, and once you hit I-65, a straight shot to Alabama so you don't have to concentrate too much on missing turns.

It was good to be back in Huntsville and to see the kids and kids-in-law, and my brothers and their families.  I delivered Gino's pizza to Seth and Christine, 312 and 90-Minute beer to Lacy and Jeff, and a Hard Rock t-shirt to Sydney, making everyone happy.  The rest have to bring their rears up here to get their own souvenirs.  I was looking forward to a good time, and possibly feeling a little sad to head back North.

It's funny how expectations can be completely off track, and once you realize it, you are shocked that you didn't see it coming.  I didn't see it coming.  Being "home" didn't feel like being home at all.  I felt disjointed and depressed.  I didn't want to see anyone outside my immediate family, didn't want to answer the same questions over and over (how's Chicago???), and certainly didn't feel like I was on vacation.  I felt like I was a visitor, which is exactly what I was.  I was in the position for the first time ever of actually "visiting" my kids.  Always, I've visited their houses and then gone home.  Or visited with them out at a restaurant or shopping, and then gone home.  This time I visited for days instead of hours, and home was 600 miles away.

I wanted to come home - to Chicago.  My heart and love are with my family, but my stuff and therefore my comfort zone, is here.  I can't say I'm going home again when I go to Alabama; I will have to say I'm going to visit.  I'll be a visitor.  I'll visit.  That awkward status of being not where you belong and not completely in control.  A guest in others' homes, in their comfort zones amidst their stuff.  People do it all the time.  I guess I'm people, too.

So, here I am, at home, feeling odd for feeling odd.  Realizing that this new and foreign landscape is where I feel most comfortable.  Not because my heart is here, but because my life is here.  And my stuff...at least for a while.

heat wave

just had to say two things....

one - it's amazing how just when i'm missing crickets and mowing and mountains and (not) mosquitoes, i look out my window and see this.  and i'm still in awe of the magnificence of it.  the tower is just head and...antennas....above everything else, so it's like a mountain peak among the foothills.

and the 2nd thing is that today it was low-to-mid 90's with a dewpoint in the 70's, so the heat index was near 100.  i was outside at mid-day, and i thought it was the coolest 100 i had EVER felt.  made me wonder if these folks have any idea what heat really is (yes, it's the humidity).

heading south in 2.  :)

My Home's in Alabama...

One more catch-up...

My house has finally sold - or at least I have a bona fide offer on the table and it seems to be one that will go through.  I will sign my house, that I lived in for 5 years, that I worked and sweated over, in, through, and around, over to the relocation company who will in turn sell it to this nice couple who I'm sure will appreciate all the fine elements - the kitchen most of all, the landscaping, the deck, the colors, the huge yard - as much as I have.

What this means, I realized today, is that I now, officially, am no longer a resident of the state of Alabama.  I no longer have an address that is mine and mine alone, and I have nothing grounded and solid to call "mine".  I'm a nomad, a wanderer with no roots.  But most of all, I no longer have a home in Alabama, land of my birth and the birth of my children who I cherish with all my heart.

Okay, quit the sentiment.  It's temporary - I'll have a home there again.  But just for this small time right now, it hit me and brought an ache to my achy breaky heart.  Just to spite the whole idea, I am going to renew both my driver's license (which is expired) and my license plate (expiring this month) while I'm "home" next week.  By golly, if I can't actually have a home in Alabama, I can make other people think I do.  :)

The Saddest Fireworks I've Ever Seen

I'm just going to make this brief.  I still have trouble sorting it out in my head, but I always do have trouble reconciling these kinds of things.  It makes me sad for the whole of mankind like that big blueish guy in "Watchmen", or maybe I think of him just because it makes me blue.

We - Lacy, Jeff, myself and another friend that was in town for the weekend - walked down to the lakefront to watch fireworks on the 4th of July.  It was a little disappointing that the city wasn't having what evidently is typically a magnificent display, but Navy Pier was providing a bit of a show for the occasion.  We carried blanket and cooler (actually a bag in a bag with ice and beers) and found a spot with an open view of the sky.  And waited for dusk.

Around and behind us, also on blankets and enjoying the nice summer evening, were others waiting for the show - families, couples, kids big and small.  It was a nice atmosphere all full of anticipation.  Finally, the fireworks started, and they were wonderful!  Really nice configurations I had not witnessed before, and was awed almost as much the tiny girls behind us that squealed and clapped with each bang of scattering bits of light.  Then....then the evening was destroyed.

A horde of people that must have been waiting over by the lake, came rushing in and actually, get this, actually proceeded to just stand in front of all the families and kids and us, blocking our view completely.  Jeff, along with several people in the "blanket" crowd asked them to please just sit down.  I just don't want to go into any detail, except to say any request to sit was ignored, any mention of the small children trying to see was ignored, any attempt to reason was ignored, and finally explaining what inconsiderate assholes they were was met with only mild argument.

We left, disappointed, angry, sad.  For me, it was one of the saddest moments I've ever witnessed.  Here were grown people, even if some were not much more than mid-teens, if that, who had such complete disregard for others, such utter lack of manners, upbringing, consideration, or any sense of humanity, it was incredibly disheartening.  It doesn't matter if you know there are people (can we call them people?) like that in this world, or if you've been privy to incidents here and there, seeing it to this degree and with this much blatant apathy is a sad, sad thing.

I hate to even mention that almost all of the offenders were of a certain race and a certain gender and a certain age range, but when the stereotype is in your face, you have to recognize that it isn't entirely a stereotype.  Not at all to say it's indicative of all who are of a certain race, gender, and age, but the element is certainly out there.  And I hate to mention what I overheard, but it just has to be told.  As the discussion of whether these apathetic assholes would ever make anything of themselves past begging on the sidewalk ensued, I heard a comment that went something like "man, some people got no respect.  I thought now we got Obama in charge, this shit would be done".  Does anyone wonder why there are still those out there who would give life and soul to keep segregation a fact of life?  And have we ever seen prejudice that exceeds the prejudice exhibited in that statement?  Or the expectation that one man of half-color would be the savior of the poor, downtrodden, welfare recipient, heat-toting, rap-listening, drug dealing, child killing, lazy ass, do nothing masses?  I was raised to be accepting of all people.  Regardless.  And I've always done my best to adhere to that philosophy.  But I'm not blind to discrimination, prejudice, and bigotry on all sides of the issue.  Yes, I admit there are elements of this type in all races and in all places.  I'm just so saddened that not one person could say, hey, these kids can't see the fireworks; man, we've seen fireworks a dozen times - let's let the kids enjoy this.

Okay, not so brief.  But I cannot put into words how this experience affected me.  And I can't find a word other than sad to describe how I still, over a week later, feel.  I would feel the same sadness if it had been a mostly white, or latino, or asian, or scandinavian for God's sake, group.  Except for the reminder of the expectation of ultimate excuse to be this way made by the Obama statement.  Maybe that is what makes me saddest of all.  I want a world where people have a natural respect and regard for one another, and no matter where I live, who I am, or how hard I may try myself, it will never be a reality.

Happy fucking forth of July.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary - it's been a while and I have so much to catch you up on (make that "on which to catch you up"...no..."up to which you catch on"...forget it), I don't even know if I can remember all of it.

Lacy and Jeff were here again.  He surprised her with a trip to Chicago for her birthday, which was on the 7th, and they were here for the long holiday weekend.  I say he surprised her - it was a surprise when he told her a week or two in advance.  He is like us - me and the kids - in that way; can't keep a surprise in his pocket.  He gets as excited about a gift as the giftee.

So they were here and we did some neat stuff.  My gift to Lacy was a Silversun Pickups concert at a very cool venue.  The Aragon Ballroom is an old, well, ballroom.  It was built in the 1920's for something like a million dollars which was *gasp* in those days.  It is designed like a medieval village or really what it reminded me of was a Shakespearean theatre, the way they were sometimes open air with balconies all around that looked like little buildings.  That makes no sense, does it?  So I guess you just have to see it.  It was beautiful, and the band was great.  They're a classy bunch and I love their music.  Oh, Lacy loves them too.  :)

Another neat thing we did was a boat tour that went up the river a bit and then back out to the lake.  It was a beautiful day - not terribly hot - and the views were lovely.  Being on the lake was a nice perspective.  We also walked to Millenium Park, and walked just into and out of Taste (crowded with a capital crowded) and browsed the Art Museum.  We ate good as usual and just enjoyed the time together.  We had one negative experience, but I'll not address that here.

That's it on the visitor front for July so far, and I expect it will be all.  I am headed south this weekend for my first visit home.  It will be good to see mountains, and drive fast, eat some Po'Boy and Blue Plate and West End, and yep, it will be GREAT to see family and friends.  It will also be a little sad to drive back although I do like being here.  Always and forever, there's no place like home.