People always ask me why I love Chicago so much and I say it is for the seasons. Most people hate it here in December - March, but I love a crisp winter day. I love the bright sun and glistening snow. I love curling up on my couch with a good movie and fire going. I love sitting in a bar that is four doors from me, because it is too cold to go anywhere else. (I will admit the days when your eyes water and tears freeze to your face and your nose feels like it is going to fall off -- those days kind of stink, but you get through them and forget about them – until next time, of course).
Soon, you have survived the winter and it is the springtime and there is the hope of a new baseball season. (At least for the first few weeks). March Madness. The first day I can wear sandals. Things becoming green again.
Summer goes without saying. There is nothing better than summer in Chicago. Street fests. Baseball games. Beach Volleyball. Barbeques. Movies in the Park. A perfect summer evening, sitting on your porch hearing the sounds from Wrigley, drinking a beer with friends.
All of this transitions smoothly to the fall. And the beauty of the changing colors on the trees. And the first brisk day. And football. I love football. I love meeting on a Saturday and sitting in a bar watching all of the games with my friends. (Well, now that I am venturing out again and braving the world filled with ND haters). I love that an innocent afternoon of football becomes a ridiculously fun time with a Talon mascot, way too many “La Bomb-as,” a lot of Pirate talk and gumball roulette.
Of course, this past Saturday’s shenanigans could have more to do with my friends and less to do with Chicago, but given that I was in a neighborhood bar (although the bar was not too neighborly and will not solicit a return visit from us) with all of the people that I have met from my neighborhood, leads me to believe that Chicago had something to do with it.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Thank You
Anyone who knows me, knows my absolute disdain when it comes to the CTA. The CTA drives me crazy. You are packed like a sardine in a smelly car where people are (more often than not) only looking out for themselves. It is frustrating and annoying -- especially throughout the Brown Line "Improvements."
However, the other day, the nicest thing happen to me on the L. I boarded the train after leaving the office and got into a packed car, prepared to stand balancing myself and all my work stuff. When, a gentleman (who knew they still existed) stood up and offered me his seat. Now, I am not elderly, handicapped or pregnant, which in train terms are typically the people you want to give your seat to. I am just a 30 year girl with a few bags. And yet he gave me his seat.
It was the nicest thing ever and completely changed my mood and my day. So, to the kind stranger on the Brown Line. I just want to say, "thank you." You are a good, kind man and I hope that life rewards you.
However, the other day, the nicest thing happen to me on the L. I boarded the train after leaving the office and got into a packed car, prepared to stand balancing myself and all my work stuff. When, a gentleman (who knew they still existed) stood up and offered me his seat. Now, I am not elderly, handicapped or pregnant, which in train terms are typically the people you want to give your seat to. I am just a 30 year girl with a few bags. And yet he gave me his seat.
It was the nicest thing ever and completely changed my mood and my day. So, to the kind stranger on the Brown Line. I just want to say, "thank you." You are a good, kind man and I hope that life rewards you.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Mike and Mike
I woke up early this morning and without the use of the alarm clock. For those that know me, that is a shocking statement in and of itself. I am not a morning person. No fewer than 6 alarms go off at different times of the morning in an attempt to make me get out of bed. One of my alarms is set to ESPN 1000 and the Mike and Mike show. Since I was awake, I turned off the alarms and turned on the TV to ESPN2, which broadcasts a TV version of the show. I stared at the TV listening to Mike and Mike talk sports. An hour into my vegging (and at the point when I should have been getting up and getting into the shower), they started talking about 9/11 and how they remember being on air. And it was surreal, because they were the ones that broke the news to me 5 years ago.
I was in my car (doing the horrible commute that plagued me for 4 years -- though, this was only the second week of it and I didn't know how much it would suck) and had stopped at the Starbucks for coffee. I came out with caffeinated goodness and heard them mention a plane hitting the WTC. It was almost laughable and blase at the time. I pictured a bad prop plane moment out of a Godzilla movie and mentally moved on. I remember Mike Greenberg saying that they were going to keep us posted, but that since this was a sports station, they were going to keep it on the topic at hand - I believe it was pennant races and early football games.
Of course, this was around 8 AM CST. Within the next hour, all hell had broken loose and our lives had been forever changed. I remember the sensitivity and compassion that fueled Mike and Mike's broadcast, after the second plane hit and the Pentagon news broke. I remember ESPN turning it over to ABC for full coverage.
It's strange that five years later, I tuned into the same broadcast and to the same broadcasters as I did that day. To hear their voices and their recollections, which completely mirrored mine, was comforting. It reminded me that even with the most horrific tragedies, life slowly moves forward.
To all those whom lost their life that day, you will always be in our thoughts and prayers and hearts and souls. God Bless You. God Bless America.
I was in my car (doing the horrible commute that plagued me for 4 years -- though, this was only the second week of it and I didn't know how much it would suck) and had stopped at the Starbucks for coffee. I came out with caffeinated goodness and heard them mention a plane hitting the WTC. It was almost laughable and blase at the time. I pictured a bad prop plane moment out of a Godzilla movie and mentally moved on. I remember Mike Greenberg saying that they were going to keep us posted, but that since this was a sports station, they were going to keep it on the topic at hand - I believe it was pennant races and early football games.
Of course, this was around 8 AM CST. Within the next hour, all hell had broken loose and our lives had been forever changed. I remember the sensitivity and compassion that fueled Mike and Mike's broadcast, after the second plane hit and the Pentagon news broke. I remember ESPN turning it over to ABC for full coverage.
It's strange that five years later, I tuned into the same broadcast and to the same broadcasters as I did that day. To hear their voices and their recollections, which completely mirrored mine, was comforting. It reminded me that even with the most horrific tragedies, life slowly moves forward.
To all those whom lost their life that day, you will always be in our thoughts and prayers and hearts and souls. God Bless You. God Bless America.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
“Crikey!”
I heard a father lamenting the tragic death of Steve Irwin. He was talking about having to console his son and how his son was so devastated. It seemed so dramatic and I was having a hard time relating. I could sympathize with the loss. It was tragic, shocking and sudden. For a moment though, to me, it was just another sad ending in the news. And then I thought about all the kids that grew up watching him. All the kids who dreamed of being him when they grew up. And, I remembered.
I remembered being a kid filled with dreams. Thinking that I could be anything (and I really planned on being it all – astronaut, singer, teacher, writer, dolphin trainer and president of the United States). Then, January 28, 1986, changed the way I looked at things. The death of the Challenger crew brought the dark side of life to my otherwise innocent eyes. It was unnerving and scary. It made me see that things have a beginning and an end. It also made me a little fearful of the sky. I am not an astronaut today and I don’t know if that one incident shaped everything. But I wonder.
So, to the kids who dream of being a Crocodile Hunter when they grow up, keep dreaming – emulate all that Steve Irwin was in life – adventurous, conscientious, respectful, unafraid (but cautious), exuberant, jovial, a lover of all living things, a true friend and family man and a loving soul. He would want to be honored in that way. He would want you to reach for the stars!
I remembered being a kid filled with dreams. Thinking that I could be anything (and I really planned on being it all – astronaut, singer, teacher, writer, dolphin trainer and president of the United States). Then, January 28, 1986, changed the way I looked at things. The death of the Challenger crew brought the dark side of life to my otherwise innocent eyes. It was unnerving and scary. It made me see that things have a beginning and an end. It also made me a little fearful of the sky. I am not an astronaut today and I don’t know if that one incident shaped everything. But I wonder.
So, to the kids who dream of being a Crocodile Hunter when they grow up, keep dreaming – emulate all that Steve Irwin was in life – adventurous, conscientious, respectful, unafraid (but cautious), exuberant, jovial, a lover of all living things, a true friend and family man and a loving soul. He would want to be honored in that way. He would want you to reach for the stars!
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