Chicago

I love this city, and I am seriously considering a move there in the near future. Still, there were some times that stuck in my head. So, here are some thoughts, based on some interesting moments in between the awesome moments:

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This is how many exchanges with the downtrodden began.

“Excuse me sir, can I ask you a question?”
My half-sarcastic, half-asshole response was, “You just did”.
They got the message.

Side Note: I hate it when people who ask me for money push me into a position where I’m the one who feels like a jerk for not helping out. I want to help people, but I’d rather help someone who is trying to help themselves. Begging me for money doesn’t count.

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From an exchange with one of the many people who “need a favor”.

Caleb, bereft of any funds, told the man he could have a piece of pizza.
“What kind is it?”, the man asked.
‘I didn’t realize that Chicago’s hungry homeless were connoisseurs of deep-dish pizza’, I thought. I actually laughed out loud at the man, and he smiled back at me knowing full well that he was full of shit. Caleb still gave him a piece of pizza.

(This EXACT exchange was repeated, 10 minutes later. Granted, I laughed a bit louder the second time. Moral of the story, eat all of your pizza in the restaurant if you want to be left alone on the way back to wherever home is.)

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From the end of an exchange with a couple of nasty chicks on the south side.

“You gotta do whatcha gotta do”, she said…finally giving up after I refused for the tenth time to give her a beer. I think that if what she said was actually true for her, she wouldn’t be drunk and strung-out next to the liquor store.

From the same exchange, but a bit earlier.

“You don’t party with black chicks?”, she asked us. Ignoring her, I just thought, ‘No, I don’t party with ugly, nasty, smelly chicks who have no self-respect, are FOLLOWING me home and seem like they’re about to offer me a sexual favor for a couple of cheap beers’. I don’t think that makes me a racist, but she was arguing from a desperate position, so the desperate attempt makes some sort of sense…I guess. Annoying.

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It takes someone who is shameless, for whatever reason, to ask for money from people on the street, but the guy who was panhandling with nice shoes and a $100 baseball jersey on is just a lazy, classless asshole.

I couldn’t believe that he got anything out of anyone.

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“Is this the way to the beach?”, the two girls asked us as we passed The Drake Hotel. Caleb and I replied, “Sorry, this is our first day in Chicago. Where are you two from?” With an exasperated gasp, one of the girls said, “Oh, we’re both from here”.

Seems like some Chicagoans need to get out and see their city more.

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Lastly, a couple of poetic (I think) lines of thought.

Flying through the clouds that flooded Iowa,
Brought everyone in coach near to the point of spew,
Landing in a severe thunderstorm, a tornado watch,
25 mile per hour winds and gusts up to 65,
Was Day 1 in Chicago.
The Windy City Indeed!

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This, as I sat at the first National Arabic Language Conference at DePaul

No one realizes that I speak Arabic
Not even these peers of mine at the NALC
Why else would I be here?
Such a pain in the ass.

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In this seminar, they use the way I learned
Arabic as an example of what not to do.
I agree, but only because we teach in a different environment.
Obviously, the approach did work for at least one person.
Me.

 

When Asked “What do you believe?”

I had this to say, after some thought:

“I believe that people are inherently good and primarily interested in perpetuating their own existence. This drives people everywhere into action that is best described as a series of situational rationalities. People do things that go against their grain, and people support things that do not benefit them…and deep-down, they know it. Ignorance ceases to be an accident and becomes an active pursuit. Selfishness is encouraged and cooperation among the weak is increasingly removed from the equation. This is done systematically and with purpose since it can be threatening to power. People knowingly rationalize themselves into pain, suffering and death. War, nuclear energy, irrational profit-making, environmental destruction, crime, politics and countless other ‘things’ are embodiments of this. Power is enabled by people and weakness is often the result. Hypocrisy runs rampant through the streets of desire, and people’s innocence becomes nothing but a shadow of their guilt, depression and heart-wrenching frustration with their life. The irony to all of this, of course, is that I believe that people are inherently good and primarily interested in perpetuating their own existence.”

 

Thoughts on an early St. Patrick’s Day (Thanks Mr. Pope)

I don’t get it.

I mean, if it’s that important for so many, pseudo-Irish and Irish alike, to party on this holiest of holy days for the alcohol-inclined, why is it that so many decide to celebrate the day early? Yes, the answer is obvious in some ways, but it begs a big question. Namely, if the actual date of celebration is not important, why in the hell don’t we do this for other holidays? Yes, yes, I know, Halloween suffers the same fate. Still, there are some holidays that are seemingly entrenched into THEIR day, and I wonder—beyond the fact that I’m anthropomorphizing holidays—why St. Patrick’s Day can’t have his…or….um…..hers. Stop thinking that thought, the one where you’re about to tell me that Guinness is lobbying for today to be an ‘actual’ holiday. Now, answer my question.

Personally, I think that if people are going to bandy about in green and hail their Irishness—however weak or strong it may be—these people should take the damn holiday seriously and celebrate today….Monday….a day that is equally deserving of a celebratory brain-numbing dosing of alcohol, if not more deserving. I’d say that it’s also deserving of the singing of great songs, but who am I kidding? Who knows Irish songs on this side of the pond if you’re not already in the band being paid in Guinness to perform said songs at the pub?

God help you if you ate Corned Beef and Cabbage, a most UN-Irish meal if there ever was one. Anyone worth their Irish salt knows that this is a myth born here in Amerikay (it seems) and that cows back in the day (oh say, from the 12th to the 19th century) were more prized for their milk than for their meat. Beef was a LUXURY, and pork was eaten far more often than god-awful Corned Beef. I mean, have you ever eaten that shit? It’s plain, of poor taste, and definitely not festive. That is, if it’s not cooked well…and it always is. There are many more options that will be filling Irish tables…say a Bacon-Joint for instance. No, that’s not a hippified cannabis sushi-pork roll that one can smoke. The only tables being set with CB & C are the tables being set to please the ignorant tourists. hehehe Anyway, any true Irish celebrant of the holiday won’t be eating anything but pint after pint of the black stuff.

Ok, at this point there are two things that are obvious to anyone with a brain who is reading this:

1) I have a chip on my shoulder about this stuff

2) I am hammered

Does it matter that I’m sitting at my house, alone, celebrating the early hours of the holiday in preparation for a more thorough soaking later today/tonight? No. In fact, I’ll relate an anecdote that illustrates my desire to celebrate this holiday and in non-corned-beef-eating fashion.

It was today, many years ago (hopefully you follow that), and I was in a plane flying to Munich. There was a Guinness cheers-around-the-world to commemorate the holiday that I was not going to be pub-bound for. SO, I made sure to stop at the duty-free shop (because I like to stop at the duty-free shop) and purchase some Bushmill’s Irish Whiskey and a 4-pack of Guinness cans. The cans were not ideal, but they would do. I then, did the time zone math and set my alarm for the appointed hour.

As the time drew close, I was somewhere above the Atlantic when my alarm went off. I had prepared the scene despite people sleeping around me—it was late. Then, my watch alarm went off and I cracked my first can of Guinness and stood in the aisle to make a toast. Toast complete, I drained the entire can. At this point, people around me had caught on to what I was doing. So, I cracked the whiskey and took a swig. Then, I passed it around to all waking souls who were smart enough to be awake at that point and celebrate a great day with me…apparently the only Irishman on the plane. Myself and 5 others proceeded to down the entire bottle and cause a bit of a ruckus in the process. The attendants were actually cool with it and two of them took a swig. They also brought us some pub pretzels…ok, they were plane pretzels. By the time we were landing in Munich, the alcohol I had brought was long gone, 6 of us were completely and utterly full, and it was time for an early breakfast. I had this breakfast in the Munich airport….with a nice, tall pilsner.

This is but one fond memory of St. Patrick’s Day celebrations that I have had. I won’t get into the one where Poitin was downed in heavy chugs. I’m not sure I remember it well enough to relate it correctly.

Anyway, please do yourself a favor and celebrate today…TODAY. If you had a party on Saturday that’s all fine and dandy, but it wasn’t St. Patrick’s Day. So, buckle up kids and strap on the six-pack of your choice for starters.

I’ll see you in the morning…27 hours from now. Unless I end up in jail.

UPDATE: Yes I know that the Pope moved the holiday date to the 13th in order to keep people from celebrating during the Holy Week. Personally, I’m protesting the Pope’s order and basing this protest on his having served in the Hitler Youth. I know, I know, he was just a victim of the times (etc) but I don’t buy it. I think he’s a closet Nazi. Ok, no, not really…but my protest still stands. Unlike me in a few hours.

 

Wanting Something…

Written just before a storm:

As for the lightning, well to me it signifies what I want in life at the moment…beyond what I already have. I can see it. I can hear it. Hell, if it started to rain I could smell it. But I can’t have it. It is something that is completely out of my control and that is 1000% unsettling. Whether that means I am a control freak, or it just means that I feel bad because my conscience realizes that there is really nothing I can do about the situation to change it…is up to interpretation. I vote for the latter because I don’t rave about control.

So, here I am…typing into a liquid crystal display and finding some sort of strange solace in the act. Fucked up eh? I suppose it is, but what are we to do in the “information age”?

 

A Previous Random Stream of Consciousness

When some things in life are all messed up, it’s usually easy for me to find a way to feel better about it because I have seen such screwed up shit that perspective is easy for me. Hell, the worst day I’ve ever had is still better than the worst days I’ve seen people have. So, I ponder that and then wonder why, at times, it’s not so easy for me to find that perspective…even though it’s always there. I guess it’s because I get selfish and dwell on my own little circle of existence. So things remain in the shitter for longer than they should…I guess. I don’t know. Is it WRONG that I indulge in my pathetic little sorrows sometimes? (that question actually made me chuckle) I think what I start pondering the most when I get into these situations is why, with all of the perspective and relative goodness that is in my life, I still don’t feel like I have what I want. I mean, shouldn’t I stop wanting anything more than I have because it’s already so fucking great compared to 85% of the planet? I don’t feel like I want all that much really, and I feel like what I want is within my power to actually get. It just seems to be elusive all of the time and I am always left knowing that I don’t have it, so I feel more or less like I am….I don’t know what the word is. Then my mind gets even more folded in on itself and I wonder,will I know it when I have it or will it always be something? Again, this brings me back to the realization that I know I am not someone who is “needy” or one who is obsessive about material shit or keeping up with the Jones’. I do see people who seem to have what they want, and they seem to be happy in life and to be more or less satisfied. So then I get jealous of them a little, but then I think about it and figure that they too must be thinking similar thoughts from time to time. That makes me feel a little better…

Maybe it all boils down to the human condition cliche, but I don’t fee like that has anything to offer beyond the obvious: we live, we die.

Anyway, I’m pissed because I didn’t ski at all this year (again) and while there is tons of snow falling in the hills this week, everywhere but Bachelor is closed. I might try to get over there if they are still open, but I think I’m just writing this ski year off altogether. Bah Humbug.

One last thing before I turn in.

How much control does a person have over who they are and who they want to be? I mean, really. Sometimes I feel like people are messed up in ways that they are not even aware of, and that this can cause them trouble. What about the person who is outgoing and likes connecting with people, but seems to end up alone for some reason? If you’re not aware of what it is about who you are that causes you to be comfortable on one level doing X when your mind is preoccupied with doing Y…where do you end up?

Are you doomed to be….yourself?