I've been lax in keeping my little diary up lately. Work has been a bitch, and it's typically 7:30 or later when I get home. That makes for a 12+ hour day and I feel like doing very little by the time I pull into the garage. I didn't even try on the new boots I had ordered online until the weekend - they sat in my living room for 4 whole days. Seriously, that's a little scary.
The past couple of weekends have been nice and sunny and not even very cool. Still, I've not been out much; between being tired from the week and stressed from the job in general, motivation is hard to come by. I've been wishing I had a good excuse to be so lazy, like a rainy day that just forces you to lay around and read or watch old movies, napping in and out. Well, today I have it, and I don't want to stay in. I need to get my motivation level in sync with the weather. I hate when it's off like this.
Despite the rain, I fully intend to hop on the Brown line and rock 'n' roll up to Wrigleyville. I'm sure it will be a small group at Messner's for the game, but I really want to get out before it's too cold to justify walking even 4 blocks when you don't have to. Plus, my bud Muddy is in town and I promised I'd be up there in case he survives the Northwestern/Michigan State game. Hopefully it won't be a monsoon just as I leave the house - but my luck is against that.
It doesn't rain here a lot, so I'm wondering how it can snow so much in the winter. I'm sure it's just my anxious anticipation that has Chicago continually white (or gray) throughout the winter, when it's probably only a few days altogether. This winter is supposed to be "average", which according to weather.com means the average low for December and January will be 16, but the average precipitation for both months is about 2". Which reminds me - I need to look for seat warmers and a new battery.
Rain in the city doesn't seem to slow things down very much. Road traffic is still constant, although foot traffic not so much. The city isn't as impressive - the mostly-glass buildings become gray just like the mostly-concrete or steel buildings. You can't see the top of the tallest, and you can't see as far. I guess the thing that I miss about rain, though, is I don't hear it on the roof. I can't open the door and hear it playing on the tree leaves like cymbals, I never, ever see red mud, and it never seems to rain straight down. Surprise.
So the longer I sit here the less appealing it becomes to get out, so I'd better do before that motivation meter starts sinking toward low. Besides, it's not going to rain forever - it's sure to be over by the time I head back home. As long as I don't leave Messner's at half-time.
War Eagle - every week gets more intense when you're undefeated. Especially when it's 2 undefeated teams playing each other. Especially when you never expected to make it this far with a 0 in the loss column. And especially when you've been here before and walked away with nothing (see 1957, 1993, and 2004). Still, it's fun to have something to be excited about every Saturday for 3 months. :)
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
thugs in the night
Heard on the news this morning that there have been a rash (a rash? exactly what is a rash? what number of a thing do you have to get to before it can officially be a rash?) of muggings or beatings or robberies - I guess they're all muggings - in this normally safe part of town. These attacks didn't happen in dark alleyways or unlit street corners. They happened out in the open, albeit at night, in heavy-traffic areas. One in particular that caught my attention was the robbery of a doctor at the corner of Michigan Ave and Superior. That is a corner I know well, and in fact, walked through just this weekend with Lacy and friends.
One thing that I love about my neighborhood among the highscrapers is that I have always felt safe. I can't say that I'd go strolling at 2a.m. but generally, in the daytime, and even early evening, I feel perfectly safe. There is a lot of traffic at all times, there are very few unseemly characters lurking about, and there are always people walking within shouting distance.
It's a part of town that is in town without actually being in the concrete jungle itself, so to speak. Four blocks to the south is the river, and on the other side of that is the real commercial district; where executives execute during the weekday, where the buildings are less residential and more financial, where there's a Starbucks literally on every corner rather than every third corner. It's a part of town that is full of condos and apartments and restaurants and hotels and tourists. And it's the part that is probably the safest area of the "downtown" area.
I hate that recent events have taken some of that away, and I pray that it's a fluke, a coincidence that a "rash" of these events happened within a few days of each other. I hope that it does not signal the end of one of the few safe havens in this town. Still, for now, I guess I have to be more careful about going out after dark, and more cautious even in the daylight. I do love this city, and still feel it's one of the cleanest and safest I've ever been in. I still have faith that it will stay that way.
Maybe they'll put more of those cute Segway cops patrolling around here.
One thing that I love about my neighborhood among the highscrapers is that I have always felt safe. I can't say that I'd go strolling at 2a.m. but generally, in the daytime, and even early evening, I feel perfectly safe. There is a lot of traffic at all times, there are very few unseemly characters lurking about, and there are always people walking within shouting distance.
It's a part of town that is in town without actually being in the concrete jungle itself, so to speak. Four blocks to the south is the river, and on the other side of that is the real commercial district; where executives execute during the weekday, where the buildings are less residential and more financial, where there's a Starbucks literally on every corner rather than every third corner. It's a part of town that is full of condos and apartments and restaurants and hotels and tourists. And it's the part that is probably the safest area of the "downtown" area.
I hate that recent events have taken some of that away, and I pray that it's a fluke, a coincidence that a "rash" of these events happened within a few days of each other. I hope that it does not signal the end of one of the few safe havens in this town. Still, for now, I guess I have to be more careful about going out after dark, and more cautious even in the daylight. I do love this city, and still feel it's one of the cleanest and safest I've ever been in. I still have faith that it will stay that way.
Maybe they'll put more of those cute Segway cops patrolling around here.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
i've learned
If you're going to drive in Chicago on a Monday night when the Bears are playing at home, there's no sense in being in a hurry.
When the sky is clear and the sun has just set, the orange and peach and cream and blue is the same here as in Alabama.
Sharing a few days in my world with people I love and am familiar with leaves a lingering level of comfort that keeps me warm and safe.
It's not so much that I'm more adaptable than I expected, it's that anyone comfortable with themselves can adapt more easily.
The antenna lights on the Sears/Willis tower (or just "the tower") can cause support for most anything just by changing color.
You need good brakes and a horn to drive around here.
It's hard to be homesick for a place when you no longer have a home there.
It's easy to be homesick for people and events regardless of where you are.
Lacy makes a mean chocolate martini.
312 is an area code, not a number.
ZoCAlo is pronounced ZOcalo.
People over 30 are more friendly than people in their 20's. At least to older people.
You can always find something you can't live without at Marshall's.
Joy can come from the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times.
There is such a thing as a "benign tremor". Yes, tremor.
The smell of the chocolate factory across the river is exactly like the chocolate gravy my mother used to make.
When they say it's the first day of Autumn, in some parts of the world, it actually feels like it.
And, that....it's an effect of growing up in a small town that when you walk outdoors in the afternoon and the air has a certain coolness, freshness, and the shadows are long, you feel like you're supposed to be headed to a football game. I will forever be ingrained with that feeling. It takes me back to the excitement of putting on the band or cheerleader uniform and heading to the high school field where the fans are pouring in and the popcorn is popping in the concession stand and you know the hot chocolate is so hot it will slosh and burn your hand and the majorettes sparkle and the shoulder pads smash together with that familiar clack and for a couple of hours, you're in a different world. I can't walk outside on those certain clear Autumn afternoons without being transported to that world.
When the sky is clear and the sun has just set, the orange and peach and cream and blue is the same here as in Alabama.
Sharing a few days in my world with people I love and am familiar with leaves a lingering level of comfort that keeps me warm and safe.
It's not so much that I'm more adaptable than I expected, it's that anyone comfortable with themselves can adapt more easily.
The antenna lights on the Sears/Willis tower (or just "the tower") can cause support for most anything just by changing color.
You need good brakes and a horn to drive around here.
It's hard to be homesick for a place when you no longer have a home there.
It's easy to be homesick for people and events regardless of where you are.
Lacy makes a mean chocolate martini.
312 is an area code, not a number.
ZoCAlo is pronounced ZOcalo.
People over 30 are more friendly than people in their 20's. At least to older people.
You can always find something you can't live without at Marshall's.
Joy can come from the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times.
There is such a thing as a "benign tremor". Yes, tremor.
The smell of the chocolate factory across the river is exactly like the chocolate gravy my mother used to make.
When they say it's the first day of Autumn, in some parts of the world, it actually feels like it.
And, that....it's an effect of growing up in a small town that when you walk outdoors in the afternoon and the air has a certain coolness, freshness, and the shadows are long, you feel like you're supposed to be headed to a football game. I will forever be ingrained with that feeling. It takes me back to the excitement of putting on the band or cheerleader uniform and heading to the high school field where the fans are pouring in and the popcorn is popping in the concession stand and you know the hot chocolate is so hot it will slosh and burn your hand and the majorettes sparkle and the shoulder pads smash together with that familiar clack and for a couple of hours, you're in a different world. I can't walk outside on those certain clear Autumn afternoons without being transported to that world.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
g'mama
Seth and Christine came to visit last weekend. It was the first time Tine had been to Chicago other than flying through on her way to some other place. From O'Hare it's not easy to get a feel for the city other than the crowd of tourists and how far you can walk and still be in the same place.
While they were here we had a great time - it rained a little Saturday morning (which didn't dampen the bacon waffle), but by mid-afternoon, the sun was out and we were at Oktoberfest in Lincoln Square. Tine felt right at home and was thrilled to find traditional German food like her mom makes. We got little German flags and watched the parade of German-Americans and local school marching bands. Mayor Daley, who had just that week announced his retirement, was on hand. It was a small, but friendly, festival.
On our way back to the city, we stopped off in Lincoln Park and walked to the Zoo, which was another thing that Tine wanted to see. It was late, so some of the indoor facilities were closing, but luckily the animals had moved outdoors to enjoy the coolish weather. We got a good view of the lions, and the female put on a show by coming to the edge of their enclosure and stalking back and forth while letting out an occasional low growl. It was as though she was posing for the photographers in the group of onlookers.
The apes were fun as usual, and the lone seal was huge and sleek, and the zebra went into hiding just as we walked up. I think we got the most fun, however, from watching the polar bear. He would swim 'round and 'round in his pond, gliding along and occasionally kicking off the wall with his huge paw. Obviously a ham, he swam straight up to the glass viewing window below the surface of the water, and pressed his nose right up to the glass as if for pictures. Then he would turn, kick off, and circle back to face the glass again. I half expected to see him climb out and open a bottle of Coke.
Leaving Lincoln Park, we headed back to the house to clean up for dinner. I didn't tell them where we were going, but walked them to the end of the block and back to a restaurant right next door to my building. Blue 13 was all it was cracked up to be - small and funky, rock music playing but not too loud, tatoo'd staff completely attentive and knowledgeable, and divine fare. I've never seen a pork chop that big, or tasted one that melted in your mouth like a kobe filet. Tine's quail was very slightly gamey and very flavorable, and my steak medallions were tender and tasty. Dessert was heavenly.
Being stuffed and happy, we walked it off at Navy Pier, taking in the carnival atmosphere then cabbing it back to the house. Sunday was tourist day. I drove them around Oak Park looking at the beautiful old houses and quaint shops, then headed back to town to do the tower. Luckily it was a beautifully clear day and the line was short. I still couldn't make my feet take me into the glass observation boxes, though. My stomach turns upside down just thinking about it. Seth would live there, I think, but Christine was more like me. She did close her eyes and let Seth pull her out for a picture. You can see the hint of absolute fear in her eyes in the souvenir pic.
From there, we went to Buckingham Fountain at Grant Park which is magnificent, and over to the "bean" and Crown Fountain with the faces that spit on you, where we soaked our tired tooties for a bit. Off to Lou Malnati's for pizza, and home to relax and catch the final episode of True Blood. All in all a fun and packed weekend before I dropped them off at Midway early, early Monday morning.
Oh yes - - - and they brought me a present. A huge surprise in a tiny package. The gift that keeps on and on and on giving. It was also very fitting, since Sunday was Grandparent's Day. How coincidental was that, given that the trip had been planned since way before they knew they were with grandchild? Not to mention that the due date is my father's birthday, although it's not a Friday the 13th like his. I warned both them and Lacy/Jeff that they were not allowed to conceive before I was back in Alabama, or at least on my way. Guess that's what I get for trying to control nature. So I'm going to be a grandma, or as my friend Marsha (who's daughter-in-law is pregnant with twins) has come up with, g'mama. I guess I'm g'mamalynn, since mamalynn is how many of my "adopted" children back home refer to me.
Am I surprised? Yes! Am I thrilled? Hesitantly. I think it's normal to be concerned and nervous when your children take any big step - moving out on their own, marriage, house, children. You just want everything to be okay, and for them to handle it well - or at least better than you feel you did. Tine is the same age as I was when Seth was born, and she is much more worldly and secure than I was. Seth is older than his dad was, and is a little more grounded - he has a real job, and is in college, and although he still has a lot of maturing to do in some ways, I think he'll be okay. This boy who has never taken to children much reminds me of myself in that regard - and once he takes that tiny life in his hands, he'll know what it is to love beyond bounds, more than he ever thought possible.
My life as a young mother was spent in turmoil much of the time, alone much of the time, and lost much of the time. And somehow we all survived. My two kids managed to grow into happy adults with full lives of their own, and that which literally did not kill me seemed to make me stronger. My hope and dream for my first grandchild is that he or she (it's a girl, I just know it) has a full life of love and wonderful experiences, even if he/she doesn't have the benefit of growing up in a little rickety farm house in nowhere Alabama without benefit of air conditioning or carpeted floors or central heat or plentiful anything except pecans and adventures. I'm sure that his/her life will be almost as rich regardless. And I know that he/she will have no shortage of love. And that I will definitely be in Alabama next April to be among the welcoming committee.
While they were here we had a great time - it rained a little Saturday morning (which didn't dampen the bacon waffle), but by mid-afternoon, the sun was out and we were at Oktoberfest in Lincoln Square. Tine felt right at home and was thrilled to find traditional German food like her mom makes. We got little German flags and watched the parade of German-Americans and local school marching bands. Mayor Daley, who had just that week announced his retirement, was on hand. It was a small, but friendly, festival.
On our way back to the city, we stopped off in Lincoln Park and walked to the Zoo, which was another thing that Tine wanted to see. It was late, so some of the indoor facilities were closing, but luckily the animals had moved outdoors to enjoy the coolish weather. We got a good view of the lions, and the female put on a show by coming to the edge of their enclosure and stalking back and forth while letting out an occasional low growl. It was as though she was posing for the photographers in the group of onlookers.
The apes were fun as usual, and the lone seal was huge and sleek, and the zebra went into hiding just as we walked up. I think we got the most fun, however, from watching the polar bear. He would swim 'round and 'round in his pond, gliding along and occasionally kicking off the wall with his huge paw. Obviously a ham, he swam straight up to the glass viewing window below the surface of the water, and pressed his nose right up to the glass as if for pictures. Then he would turn, kick off, and circle back to face the glass again. I half expected to see him climb out and open a bottle of Coke.
Leaving Lincoln Park, we headed back to the house to clean up for dinner. I didn't tell them where we were going, but walked them to the end of the block and back to a restaurant right next door to my building. Blue 13 was all it was cracked up to be - small and funky, rock music playing but not too loud, tatoo'd staff completely attentive and knowledgeable, and divine fare. I've never seen a pork chop that big, or tasted one that melted in your mouth like a kobe filet. Tine's quail was very slightly gamey and very flavorable, and my steak medallions were tender and tasty. Dessert was heavenly.
Being stuffed and happy, we walked it off at Navy Pier, taking in the carnival atmosphere then cabbing it back to the house. Sunday was tourist day. I drove them around Oak Park looking at the beautiful old houses and quaint shops, then headed back to town to do the tower. Luckily it was a beautifully clear day and the line was short. I still couldn't make my feet take me into the glass observation boxes, though. My stomach turns upside down just thinking about it. Seth would live there, I think, but Christine was more like me. She did close her eyes and let Seth pull her out for a picture. You can see the hint of absolute fear in her eyes in the souvenir pic.
From there, we went to Buckingham Fountain at Grant Park which is magnificent, and over to the "bean" and Crown Fountain with the faces that spit on you, where we soaked our tired tooties for a bit. Off to Lou Malnati's for pizza, and home to relax and catch the final episode of True Blood. All in all a fun and packed weekend before I dropped them off at Midway early, early Monday morning.
Oh yes - - - and they brought me a present. A huge surprise in a tiny package. The gift that keeps on and on and on giving. It was also very fitting, since Sunday was Grandparent's Day. How coincidental was that, given that the trip had been planned since way before they knew they were with grandchild? Not to mention that the due date is my father's birthday, although it's not a Friday the 13th like his. I warned both them and Lacy/Jeff that they were not allowed to conceive before I was back in Alabama, or at least on my way. Guess that's what I get for trying to control nature. So I'm going to be a grandma, or as my friend Marsha (who's daughter-in-law is pregnant with twins) has come up with, g'mama. I guess I'm g'mamalynn, since mamalynn is how many of my "adopted" children back home refer to me.
Am I surprised? Yes! Am I thrilled? Hesitantly. I think it's normal to be concerned and nervous when your children take any big step - moving out on their own, marriage, house, children. You just want everything to be okay, and for them to handle it well - or at least better than you feel you did. Tine is the same age as I was when Seth was born, and she is much more worldly and secure than I was. Seth is older than his dad was, and is a little more grounded - he has a real job, and is in college, and although he still has a lot of maturing to do in some ways, I think he'll be okay. This boy who has never taken to children much reminds me of myself in that regard - and once he takes that tiny life in his hands, he'll know what it is to love beyond bounds, more than he ever thought possible.
My life as a young mother was spent in turmoil much of the time, alone much of the time, and lost much of the time. And somehow we all survived. My two kids managed to grow into happy adults with full lives of their own, and that which literally did not kill me seemed to make me stronger. My hope and dream for my first grandchild is that he or she (it's a girl, I just know it) has a full life of love and wonderful experiences, even if he/she doesn't have the benefit of growing up in a little rickety farm house in nowhere Alabama without benefit of air conditioning or carpeted floors or central heat or plentiful anything except pecans and adventures. I'm sure that his/her life will be almost as rich regardless. And I know that he/she will have no shortage of love. And that I will definitely be in Alabama next April to be among the welcoming committee.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
back to school
Its easy to think of Chicago as a safe, friendly city. That is until you starting watching the local news. I do feel safe in my neighborhood, and for the most part, around the downtown area in general. I feel safe driving to work, even though I usually travel on the fringe of a less than desirable neighborhood. I don't generally think about safety or violence, but I have to admit, wherever I am in this city, it is somewhere in the back of my mind.
The first time I ever came to Chicago was when I worked for Brach & Brock Candy Company. I started working with Brock Candy Co., and small family-owned company with a long history in the Chattanooga area. Two months afterward, the announcement was made that the Brock family had sold out to the much larger E.J. Brach company out of Chicago. The decision by the new company to move their corporate headquarters from Chicago to Chattanooga was a bit of a shock to everyone.
So the first of my several trips to Chicago to facilitate the transfer of knowledge and management was due to this change. I remember clearly the briefing I received prior to the trip; put my purse in the trunk of the rental car, keep doors locked at all times, don't roll the window down for anything or anyone. The instructions were due primarily to a recent drive-by shooting at the Brach plant where the corporate headquarters were also housed. But also because the neighborhood - on Cicero Ave - was like a dark alley you just know you don't want to be in after dark.
After this and the many follow-up trips, I shouldn't be surprised at the actuality of the risks of living here. It's just so easy to forget...until you're reminded. School started this week in the city of Chicago. The first fact that got my attention is that there are 425,000 students in the city school system That's something like 100k more than people in all of the Huntsville metro area. Not students....PEOPLE. That brings some amount of brevity to the more negative statistics, but it's still tough to hear that over 30 kids were shot and killed in Chicago high schools in the 2009 school year.
I haven't been able to pin down the number of total shootings, but just think about the subject at it's simplest form - - - there are kids with access to guns in the city schools. How you aren't able to control, or crack down on, guns at school is just beyond me. Understanding that there's no budget to put scanners in every school, I still am in awe of the possibility of guns in schools being just a fact of live.
Only a few days into the 2010-2011 school year, the count is 1. One teenage boy killed. One teacher stabbed. The first week of school. Can you just imagine how difficult it must be to go to school every day knowing your well-being is not much different than if you were walking into battle in Afganistan? Would you not just want to pull the plug at the first opportunity? No wonder drop-out numbers are high, and unemployment and welfare recipients are high. Can't get far without a high school degree, but how far can you get going to battle empty handed?
It's not just in schools, it's not just South Side or near West, it's not just one race or another. But the victim and perpetrator are almost certainly black and from south of the city proper. Police here met with leaders of known gangs to try and encourage peace; they caught a lot of backlash for the meeting. I understand that it seems an oxymoron to meet with gang leaders, but maybe that's a way to get the message to the gang members. If they don't control, they will be the ones to pay.
I keep going back, though to how it feels to be faced with this danger every day of your life. How much courage it must take to play jump rope in your front yard (where a young girl lost her life recently). How difficult it would be to break the silence and rat the assailants out at the risk of your own life. It's hard enough to consider how, at any time and place on any day in a city like this, you could be the one caught in the crossfire. Even downtown, in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people, or driving to work through good neighborhoods, or riding the L any place in town. Tragedy, violence, or mishaps can hit no matter where you are, but when the odds are a good bit higher, maybe we just need to be a little more cautious and aware. Hard to do when you're caught up in the magnificence of all that surrounds you, so the question remains - do I avoid the magnificence because of fear, or do I embrace it in spite of? Can't live much of a life avoiding the hard stuff, and I like to think that is how students are able to continue going to school every day. Hopefully it's a quality that is carried with them through the rest of their lives, as long as they're able to survive past Senior year.
The first time I ever came to Chicago was when I worked for Brach & Brock Candy Company. I started working with Brock Candy Co., and small family-owned company with a long history in the Chattanooga area. Two months afterward, the announcement was made that the Brock family had sold out to the much larger E.J. Brach company out of Chicago. The decision by the new company to move their corporate headquarters from Chicago to Chattanooga was a bit of a shock to everyone.
So the first of my several trips to Chicago to facilitate the transfer of knowledge and management was due to this change. I remember clearly the briefing I received prior to the trip; put my purse in the trunk of the rental car, keep doors locked at all times, don't roll the window down for anything or anyone. The instructions were due primarily to a recent drive-by shooting at the Brach plant where the corporate headquarters were also housed. But also because the neighborhood - on Cicero Ave - was like a dark alley you just know you don't want to be in after dark.
After this and the many follow-up trips, I shouldn't be surprised at the actuality of the risks of living here. It's just so easy to forget...until you're reminded. School started this week in the city of Chicago. The first fact that got my attention is that there are 425,000 students in the city school system That's something like 100k more than people in all of the Huntsville metro area. Not students....PEOPLE. That brings some amount of brevity to the more negative statistics, but it's still tough to hear that over 30 kids were shot and killed in Chicago high schools in the 2009 school year.
I haven't been able to pin down the number of total shootings, but just think about the subject at it's simplest form - - - there are kids with access to guns in the city schools. How you aren't able to control, or crack down on, guns at school is just beyond me. Understanding that there's no budget to put scanners in every school, I still am in awe of the possibility of guns in schools being just a fact of live.
Only a few days into the 2010-2011 school year, the count is 1. One teenage boy killed. One teacher stabbed. The first week of school. Can you just imagine how difficult it must be to go to school every day knowing your well-being is not much different than if you were walking into battle in Afganistan? Would you not just want to pull the plug at the first opportunity? No wonder drop-out numbers are high, and unemployment and welfare recipients are high. Can't get far without a high school degree, but how far can you get going to battle empty handed?
It's not just in schools, it's not just South Side or near West, it's not just one race or another. But the victim and perpetrator are almost certainly black and from south of the city proper. Police here met with leaders of known gangs to try and encourage peace; they caught a lot of backlash for the meeting. I understand that it seems an oxymoron to meet with gang leaders, but maybe that's a way to get the message to the gang members. If they don't control, they will be the ones to pay.
I keep going back, though to how it feels to be faced with this danger every day of your life. How much courage it must take to play jump rope in your front yard (where a young girl lost her life recently). How difficult it would be to break the silence and rat the assailants out at the risk of your own life. It's hard enough to consider how, at any time and place on any day in a city like this, you could be the one caught in the crossfire. Even downtown, in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people, or driving to work through good neighborhoods, or riding the L any place in town. Tragedy, violence, or mishaps can hit no matter where you are, but when the odds are a good bit higher, maybe we just need to be a little more cautious and aware. Hard to do when you're caught up in the magnificence of all that surrounds you, so the question remains - do I avoid the magnificence because of fear, or do I embrace it in spite of? Can't live much of a life avoiding the hard stuff, and I like to think that is how students are able to continue going to school every day. Hopefully it's a quality that is carried with them through the rest of their lives, as long as they're able to survive past Senior year.
Monday, September 6, 2010
weagle weagle
So football season is upon us. One of my favorite times of the year, even during a less-than-stellar season for the Auburn Tigers. It's one of the many things about Fall that gets the blood pumping and has you feeling that something great is just around the corner. I guess the start of any season is like that - Spring is about life renewed and fickle weather, Summer about being outdoors and enjoying the sun, Fall is beautiful colors and brilliant skies and the clash of shoulder pads; crisp air and out come the sweaters. Winter is time for indoors and quiet reflection, catching up on hobbies, and practicing patience as you wait for Spring.
Shortly after moving from Alabama, it occurred to me that I would not be able to watch Auburn football every weekend here as I'm accustomed to. Hopefully, I thought, I'll be able to access the games online through ESPN, or there will be a package available through Direct TV. As September got closer, I started searching for venues that would carry at least most of the games, and I happened upon the Chicago Auburn Club. Hallelujah. My peeps.
I've mentioned the CAC before - I joined a group of members at the White Sox game last week to witness former Auburn football player and baseball great, Frank Thomas, have his number retired. It was a proud and touching moment, especially to see him in his Auburn uniform on the big screen as they "slide-show'd" his baseball life. And to share a moment like that - even though I have no allegiance to the Sox or have never seen Frank play in person - with other Auburn people was a good feeling.
Saturday was the official start of the college football season, so I trekked up to Wrigleyville to watch Auburn's first game with the group of War Eagle fans. I had been looking forward to this for a couple of weeks and was excited to experience the game in a new way - far from Alabama and in a room filled entirely with people as enthused as myself. My usual gameday experience is either at home watching with Seth or by myself, or at a bar with a mixture of supporters of Auburn, Alabama, Florida, Tennessee, and other schools from across the country. Either way, I could enjoy the game (or not) while keeping an eye on other teams and sharing the excitement (or disappointment) with others, whether in person or by phone/text.
Saturday's game was indeed a different experience, and, to be honest, a little disappointing. It was very crowded and loud, and listening to the game commentary was difficult. Most people were focused on the game, as was evidenced by the cheers or groans, but I just didn't feel that rush of enthusiasm that I'm used to. Maybe it was because we're all so far removed from the actuality of Auburn, or maybe because I was with people I barely know. Maybe it's just that this time of year is intensely exciting in the state of Alabama, and here in Chicago, there's more concern over professional football than college. Or, just maybe, it's because I would rather be sharing the moment with Seth and Lacy and the other people that I'm used to sharing it with.
I would like to have been at West End Grill, even if I did have to listen to the whoops and taunts of the Bama group. Or at Mason's hearing Dale go on and on about how Florida will survive without Tebow. I would like to have shared thoughts with my son on the new qb for Auburn, and how good it is to see Etheridge back in the secondary, and how well the offensive line played, even if the defense had some holes.
I would like to see SEC teams' banners on houses and flags on cars and even the Bama fans eternally decked head-to-toe in crimson everywhere they go. Being with fans in Chicago is better than not, but there's just nothing like football in Alabama, or in the South. Regardless of the number of Ohio State, Notre Dame, Northwestern, Illinois and Purdue fans here, there's just not that intense rivalry and camaraderie you find at home. I'll make it through the season, but I'll be happy to catch at least a couple of games this Fall in the bosom of the SEC faithful - if only when I travel to Alabama.
Shortly after moving from Alabama, it occurred to me that I would not be able to watch Auburn football every weekend here as I'm accustomed to. Hopefully, I thought, I'll be able to access the games online through ESPN, or there will be a package available through Direct TV. As September got closer, I started searching for venues that would carry at least most of the games, and I happened upon the Chicago Auburn Club. Hallelujah. My peeps.
I've mentioned the CAC before - I joined a group of members at the White Sox game last week to witness former Auburn football player and baseball great, Frank Thomas, have his number retired. It was a proud and touching moment, especially to see him in his Auburn uniform on the big screen as they "slide-show'd" his baseball life. And to share a moment like that - even though I have no allegiance to the Sox or have never seen Frank play in person - with other Auburn people was a good feeling.
Saturday was the official start of the college football season, so I trekked up to Wrigleyville to watch Auburn's first game with the group of War Eagle fans. I had been looking forward to this for a couple of weeks and was excited to experience the game in a new way - far from Alabama and in a room filled entirely with people as enthused as myself. My usual gameday experience is either at home watching with Seth or by myself, or at a bar with a mixture of supporters of Auburn, Alabama, Florida, Tennessee, and other schools from across the country. Either way, I could enjoy the game (or not) while keeping an eye on other teams and sharing the excitement (or disappointment) with others, whether in person or by phone/text.
Saturday's game was indeed a different experience, and, to be honest, a little disappointing. It was very crowded and loud, and listening to the game commentary was difficult. Most people were focused on the game, as was evidenced by the cheers or groans, but I just didn't feel that rush of enthusiasm that I'm used to. Maybe it was because we're all so far removed from the actuality of Auburn, or maybe because I was with people I barely know. Maybe it's just that this time of year is intensely exciting in the state of Alabama, and here in Chicago, there's more concern over professional football than college. Or, just maybe, it's because I would rather be sharing the moment with Seth and Lacy and the other people that I'm used to sharing it with.
I would like to have been at West End Grill, even if I did have to listen to the whoops and taunts of the Bama group. Or at Mason's hearing Dale go on and on about how Florida will survive without Tebow. I would like to have shared thoughts with my son on the new qb for Auburn, and how good it is to see Etheridge back in the secondary, and how well the offensive line played, even if the defense had some holes.
I would like to see SEC teams' banners on houses and flags on cars and even the Bama fans eternally decked head-to-toe in crimson everywhere they go. Being with fans in Chicago is better than not, but there's just nothing like football in Alabama, or in the South. Regardless of the number of Ohio State, Notre Dame, Northwestern, Illinois and Purdue fans here, there's just not that intense rivalry and camaraderie you find at home. I'll make it through the season, but I'll be happy to catch at least a couple of games this Fall in the bosom of the SEC faithful - if only when I travel to Alabama.
Monday, August 30, 2010
of traditions
I just put dinner in the oven. It's a tuna casserole that my Aunt Sis (who is one of my readers - thanks Aunt Sis!!) gave me the recipe for years and years and years ago. It's still the only tuna casserole I like. When the kids were growing up, it was a bit of a staple around our house. It's cheap, easy, and yummy, and those were the kind of meals necessary in our little farm house in Fackler.
When the kids got out on their own, they each called at some point asking for the recipe. They both also have the recipe for Beef Noodle Bake, which was my mom's favorite dish to make, and my brother Tim's favorite to eat. I guess both recipes have become a sort of tradition in my family - three generations and counting. So, as I was putting together the casserole, I was thinking about traditions.
When I became mom, I knew that I wanted my kids to have a strong family base. Not necessarily to be living on a compound with all the kin around, but to learn to value family. Growing up myself, we had what I didn't consider traditions at the time, but looking back, we did things that became important to me, and that I carried forward to my own family. We always, always opened presents Christmas morning, never before. We always went on some sort of vacation together every summer. We visited the grandparents often, and celebrated every holiday as a family. There's more, but these are the kinds of things I tried to instill in my kids.
Seth and Lacy will attest to the strict rule about Christmas morning, although we would usually allow one present Christmas Eve. And for several years, I would read the passage from Luke that told the story of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus, just like on Charlie Brown. My parents also started a tradition of having breakfast with us Christmas morning so they could see what Santa brought the kids. They would make the rounds between everyone's house, and then at some point, we'd head to Big Coon to have family Christmas with turkey (usually dry; my mom never mastered turkey), dressing and gravy (necessary for the turkey), green beans that had been canned the prior summer, and all the rest of the fixings. We would also travel to Woodville to visit with the other grandmother, making sure we ate something before we went (she was not what you would call an accomplished cook either). The holiday shuffle, we called it. Thanksgiving was much the same, as was Easter for a while. Then I put my foot down and decided that some holidays would be enjoyed as a family unit unto ourselves.
We also took vacations, although not as often as we would have liked. Going to the beach was an adventure - we couldn't afford a hotel, so we camped at the state park. It was hot, and sand against sunburn was more prevalent than in a hotel bed, but there were good showers and hot dogs on the grill, and full days spent making sand figures and picking up shells. Those are some of my most favorite memories. Often, my parents would take us all on a trip - to places like the Lost Sea or Cherokee. I think my dad planned these trips out of pity for the kids that had to sleep in tents in the sand at the beach. :)
After I was on my own and living in Huntsville, a couple of new traditions developed. Thanksgiving became a day for non-tradition. We would have chili, or chicken and dumplins, or "itty bitty turkeys" (cornish hens), and once it was just Lacy and myself and we spent the day watching chick flicks. Christmas was the most fun - the kids would come over Christmas Eve and we'd play Trivial Pursuit and have eggnog and beer and get crazy and have a great time being our little family of three. Of course, presents waited until the next morning.
Things change, however, and although I hung onto my traditions as long as I could, I've learned to let go and allow the kids to start their own. We've had Christmas on Christmas Eve, we've had Christmas when everybody was scattered to the wind, and Thanksgiving? Well, Thanksgiving is a toss-up. We never quite know what we're doing, but at some point over the weekend, we try to get together for a meal of some sort be it breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just finger foods and football. And we've not had a vacation together for some time, but we've had two "destination" weddings, and now we have visits to Chicago.
Easter has become an tradition of it's own with an adult version of the kid's tradition - the Easter Beer Hunt. For three years, we've had the gathering at my house in Huntsville, with a gang of friends and eager hunters, grilling and games and fun - be it cold and cloudy or, for once this year, a beautiful, sunny day (although it did rain early). I've been told that I have to bring the tradition to Chicago, as a few of the participants actually live here now, and I'm positive that I'll have to make a trip south to join in the fun wherever it lands next spring.
This year, the holidays are going to be full of new adventures. I'm sure I'll head south for Thanksgiving and the Auburn-Alabama game. I'd love to have everyone here for Christmas, but it will depend on weather and the other families that we have to accommodate. Maybe a New Year's trip up would be acceptable - and tons of fun for girls and boys of all ages. Whatever new, one-time "tradition" we end up with this year, I know that family will be at the heart of it. I'm glad that my kids have family instilled in them and I feel secure in knowing that they will instill the same in their own kids. And that they will build traditions of their own. It's good for kids to have something they can count on, and that is solid and known. It's good to have traditions to take comfort in, and to build fond memories. And it's good to reach that point when you can stretch your wings a little and develop your own traditions.
Now it's time for traditional tuna casserole. :)
When the kids got out on their own, they each called at some point asking for the recipe. They both also have the recipe for Beef Noodle Bake, which was my mom's favorite dish to make, and my brother Tim's favorite to eat. I guess both recipes have become a sort of tradition in my family - three generations and counting. So, as I was putting together the casserole, I was thinking about traditions.
When I became mom, I knew that I wanted my kids to have a strong family base. Not necessarily to be living on a compound with all the kin around, but to learn to value family. Growing up myself, we had what I didn't consider traditions at the time, but looking back, we did things that became important to me, and that I carried forward to my own family. We always, always opened presents Christmas morning, never before. We always went on some sort of vacation together every summer. We visited the grandparents often, and celebrated every holiday as a family. There's more, but these are the kinds of things I tried to instill in my kids.
Seth and Lacy will attest to the strict rule about Christmas morning, although we would usually allow one present Christmas Eve. And for several years, I would read the passage from Luke that told the story of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus, just like on Charlie Brown. My parents also started a tradition of having breakfast with us Christmas morning so they could see what Santa brought the kids. They would make the rounds between everyone's house, and then at some point, we'd head to Big Coon to have family Christmas with turkey (usually dry; my mom never mastered turkey), dressing and gravy (necessary for the turkey), green beans that had been canned the prior summer, and all the rest of the fixings. We would also travel to Woodville to visit with the other grandmother, making sure we ate something before we went (she was not what you would call an accomplished cook either). The holiday shuffle, we called it. Thanksgiving was much the same, as was Easter for a while. Then I put my foot down and decided that some holidays would be enjoyed as a family unit unto ourselves.
We also took vacations, although not as often as we would have liked. Going to the beach was an adventure - we couldn't afford a hotel, so we camped at the state park. It was hot, and sand against sunburn was more prevalent than in a hotel bed, but there were good showers and hot dogs on the grill, and full days spent making sand figures and picking up shells. Those are some of my most favorite memories. Often, my parents would take us all on a trip - to places like the Lost Sea or Cherokee. I think my dad planned these trips out of pity for the kids that had to sleep in tents in the sand at the beach. :)
After I was on my own and living in Huntsville, a couple of new traditions developed. Thanksgiving became a day for non-tradition. We would have chili, or chicken and dumplins, or "itty bitty turkeys" (cornish hens), and once it was just Lacy and myself and we spent the day watching chick flicks. Christmas was the most fun - the kids would come over Christmas Eve and we'd play Trivial Pursuit and have eggnog and beer and get crazy and have a great time being our little family of three. Of course, presents waited until the next morning.
Things change, however, and although I hung onto my traditions as long as I could, I've learned to let go and allow the kids to start their own. We've had Christmas on Christmas Eve, we've had Christmas when everybody was scattered to the wind, and Thanksgiving? Well, Thanksgiving is a toss-up. We never quite know what we're doing, but at some point over the weekend, we try to get together for a meal of some sort be it breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just finger foods and football. And we've not had a vacation together for some time, but we've had two "destination" weddings, and now we have visits to Chicago.
Easter has become an tradition of it's own with an adult version of the kid's tradition - the Easter Beer Hunt. For three years, we've had the gathering at my house in Huntsville, with a gang of friends and eager hunters, grilling and games and fun - be it cold and cloudy or, for once this year, a beautiful, sunny day (although it did rain early). I've been told that I have to bring the tradition to Chicago, as a few of the participants actually live here now, and I'm positive that I'll have to make a trip south to join in the fun wherever it lands next spring.
This year, the holidays are going to be full of new adventures. I'm sure I'll head south for Thanksgiving and the Auburn-Alabama game. I'd love to have everyone here for Christmas, but it will depend on weather and the other families that we have to accommodate. Maybe a New Year's trip up would be acceptable - and tons of fun for girls and boys of all ages. Whatever new, one-time "tradition" we end up with this year, I know that family will be at the heart of it. I'm glad that my kids have family instilled in them and I feel secure in knowing that they will instill the same in their own kids. And that they will build traditions of their own. It's good for kids to have something they can count on, and that is solid and known. It's good to have traditions to take comfort in, and to build fond memories. And it's good to reach that point when you can stretch your wings a little and develop your own traditions.
Now it's time for traditional tuna casserole. :)
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