November Get-Together 1987

For a little while in the later ’80s, I took an interest in making black-and-white pictures. But not enough of an interest to pay for a higher-quality camera, so the results were usually mediocre.

Still, I documented a few moments I might have otherwise forgotten. Such as a get-together in my Chicago apartment on November 21, 1987, attended by a small knot of my friends. Such as Wendy and Susie, with Wendy blowing bubbles.

nov21-87-1

Barbara and Lee. The Period Clothing sign I found thrown away in Nashville after a resale shop near my apartment had closed. I brought it with me to Chicago.

nov21-87-2Becky. The door led to the back stairwell. People who wanted to smoke went out there. But I don’t think anyone there that day smoked.

nov21-87-3And Nate near one of my bookcases. I probably still have all those books, or almost all of them.

nov21-87-4I imagine we had a good time, but I don’t remember anything about the event. Seems like a long time ago. Because it was.

Photoshop Nightmare Election Leftover

Remarkably windy this afternoon, though not particularly cold. Yet winter is coming, as they say on a TV show I haven’t gotten around to seeing.

The influx — flow — torrent — of election season postcards has, of course, come to a sudden stop. I didn’t count the number that passed from campaigns, through to USPS, to our mailbox. And then into the recycle bin or, if I were in a less sustainable mood, the regular trash.

Most of them weren’t that memorable. Then there was this Photoshop nightmare.

photoshop-monster

It might not have changed my vote, but it did get my attention.

Open House Chicago 2016

Turns out there are two kinds of building-visiting events in the world, Open House and Doors Open, and a good many cities in a lot of countries participate in one or the other. (Shucks, missed Milwaukee’s — next year, maybe). As far as I can tell, the idea is exactly the same in both cases: one weekend out of the year, various buildings are open — maybe a little more open than they’d usually be — and you can wander in and look around. A really good idea, if you asked me.

I was out of town last year, but participated in Open House Chicago in 2013. Yuriko and I went in ’14, and again this year, on Saturday. This time our focus was Evanston and some sites on the North Side of Chicago. All are parts of metro Chicago that we know well, but no matter how well you know a place, there’s always more to it. First we drove to Evanston, and then on foot and by El train, we managed to visit more than a dozen places new to us.

Including, in Evanston: the Francis Willard House Museum, Sigma Alpha Epsilon National Headquarters (Levere Memorial Temple), Northwestern University’s Charles Deering Library and its Dearborn Observatory, Stone Terrace (an elegant B&B near Lake Michigan), the First Presbyterian Church of Evanston, and the Lake Street Church of Evanston.

In the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago, we had lunch at a good Vietnamese restaurant — there are many around Broadway and Argyle — and then went to the Bridgeview Bank Building, the Buddhist Temple of Chicago, the ICA GreenRise and the Preston Bradley Center (the Peoples Church).

In the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago, just as our energy flagged, we managed to make it to the International Society for Krishna Consciousness building and then, practically across the street, St. Jerome’s, a Catholic church just about to start one of its Saturday masses, in Spanish.

With Evanston as target for the morning, we naturally spent a while walking around the still-leafy campus of Northwestern. The university, we saw, was quick to honor faculty member and recent Nobel laureate, Sir Fraser Stoddart.

Sir Fraser Stoddard banner Northwestern University 2016

Among other things, Sir Fraser is known for his work on mechanically interlocked molecular architectures. How it’s possible to understand such things, besides what they are in the first place, is a source of puzzled wonderment to me. But I’m glad there are people who do understand such things.

Sir Fraser’s banner was on Sheridan Road, near the southern edge of the school. From there we went further north, into the heart of the campus, where we chanced on Sir Fraser’s parking space.

This amused me for no good reason. Maybe it’s because Sir Fraser drives a Camry too (and does have a license plate, which I’ve blocked). His looks in better shape than mine.

Thursday Residuum

No overnight freezes yet, though it can’t be long. Thus a lot of greenery is still hanging on. So are blood-red blooms in our back yards.

I don’t know the species, but the plant produces late-season flowers that are so heavy that the blossoms face the ground. Of course, that’s a human interpretation; no blossom is obliged to orient itself in any particular direction to please a human sense of aesthetics. Even so, I held it upward for the picture.

I discovered a giant cucumber on the ground recently.

It was hiding — again, a human perspective (it’s the only one I’ve got) — under the many leaves of the cucumber plants we’ve been growing near the deck since late spring. So we didn’t notice it when it was green. As you can see, it devolved into a yellow Hindenburg of a vegetable.

“Many people wonder, why are my cucumbers turning yellow?” asks Gardening Know How. “You shouldn’t allow cucumbers to turn yellow. If you encounter a yellow cucumber, it’s usually over ripe. When cucumbers become over ripe, their green coloring produced from chlorophyll begins to fade, resulting in a yellowing pigment. Cucumbers become bitter with size and yellow cucumbers are generally not fit for consumption.”

Ah, well. Guess I’m a failure when it comes to that cucumber, though the mother plant did produce small and tasty green cucumbers this year (as tasty as possible with cucumbers, anyway). The giant yellow cucumber was indeed unfit for human purposes. It’s been returned to nature to rot.

A couple of weeks ago I read about some seasonal haunted house in the western suburbs, and looked up its web site. Its advertising mascot is a zombie scarecrow or some such. It’s an ugly face, anyway.

I can’t count the number of times since then that I’ve seen that ugly face pop up on all kinds of other web sites. It’s an insane amount of digital advertising, an exercise in overkill, and I’m really tired of that face. I’d toyed with the idea of taking Ann to the place, but I’ll be damned if I will now.

Another little annoyance: about a week ago, I was driving along not far from home, and I heard what sounded like an aluminum plate rolling near the car. I thought I’d had a near-miss with some kind of round metal object in the street until about 15 minutes later, at home, when I noticed my car was missing a hubcap.

That’s what that sound was. I drove back to look for it. Gone. Hell’s bells. That’s never happened to me in any car I’ve ever driven, not over the course of many, many thousands of miles. Go figure.

Best to end with a more upbeat note. Somehow, our dog’s more photogenic on the stairs. She sits there often, but only when we’re nearby.

Maybe she likes to sit there to be more-or-less as tall as we, the rest of her pack, are. Just speculation.

Thursday Natterings, But Not From Nabobs of Negativism

I woke the heater up yesterday from its summertime hibernation, mainly to see whether it would wake up and blow hot air, which is all I ask of it. Fortunately, the machine snapped to its single job without any complaint, such as some weird noise I don’t want to hear. The previous night had been quite cool, as they are starting to be, lowering the house temp to 69 F. My test took it up to 70 F. Normally I keep the house at 68 F. when it’s cold outside.

I saw the first Halloween decorations in the neighborhood the other day when walking the dog. It was a small faux cemetery in a front yard, featuring hand-painted sturdy cardboard (or cheap wood) tombstones. I don’t remember what any of them said.

Probably not Here Lies Les Moore. No Les, No Moore. I think I saw that in a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not collection years ago. That one I believe. Sounds like frontier humor to me.

Another remarkable collection of recent space photos from the Atlantic. As the intro notes, “We [as in, mankind] currently have spacecraft in orbit around the Sun, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, a comet, Jupiter, and Saturn; two operational rovers on Mars; and a recent close flyby of Pluto.”

Closer to home, here are two signs I saw recently in Chicago.

That’s a little alarming. I can think of a lot better places to pass the future. The only future I want from McDougall’s are occasional breakfast sandwiches.

Dirt cheap, eh? And what do your beneficiaries get? Enough to pay for the dirt that covers you, maybe.

The last Weaver is gone. Fred Hellerman died recently, I just learned. Time then to listen to the re-union Weavers sing “Get Up and Go.”

One more thing: I don’t think I’ve ever seen olives packed this way before. A Trader Jose offering, as the package tells us.

olives

I opened them today at lunchtime. Not bad at all.

Split Scooter

I’d never seen a scooter exactly like this before.

Split scooterNot long ago we stopped at a garage sale in a neighborhood north of ours. Yuriko went to look around, I stayed in the car. At one point, this fellow rode up on his — split scooter? I looked it up using those words and it seems to be a common thing. Learn something new all the time, if you’re paying attention.

Libertarian on the Thoroughfare

Political signage isn’t all that thick here in the northwest suburbs this year, only a scattering of statewide races, and I hadn’t seen a single presidential sign until the other day. Could be that, since Illinois isn’t remotely in play in that election, no one is bothering.

Then again, there’s a certain house on a small road I’ve been driving by regularly for more than a decade, and every election — every one — Republican signage is prominent in the yard, especially the presidential nominee during those contests. This year, nothing. Maybe they’ve moved. Or maybe their presidential nominee just embarrasses them.

But recently I did see a bit of presidential advertising, near the intersection of Schaumburg Road, a major thoroughfare, and Salem Road.

Gary Johnson Sign made of yellow cups

That’s the more visible part, made of yellow cups stuck in the fence. Less visible, and off to the side in blue cups, is # LET GARY DEBATE.

A Reg Manning Travelcard — No. 15

Lately, thanks to the Special Collections & University Archives of Wichita State University, I’ve learned that “Reginald Manning was born in Kansas City, Missouri, on April 5, 1905. He moved to Phoenix, Arizona, in 1919 and studied art in high school. Shortly after graduation, Reginald began working for the Arizona Republic, starting work on May 1, 1926. He worked there for the next 50 years.

“Manning’s job at the newspaper originally was a photographer and spot artist. Before too long, he was drawing daily editorial cartoons and a weekly full-page review of the news called ‘The Big Parade.’ He quit drawing the ‘Parade” in 1948 in order to devote more time to his editorial cartoons. In 1951, Manning won a Pulitzer for ‘Hats.’

“In addition to his lectures, Manning has published many books. Some of the books that he produced are A Cartoon Guide to Arizona (1938), What Kinda Cactus Issat? (1941), From Tee to Cup (1954), and What Is Arizona Really Like? (1968).

“Reg Manning was one of the most prominent conservative voices in cartooning and has won numerous awards for his work. Besides winning a Pulitzer Prize, he has also won the Freedom Foundation’s Abraham Lincoln award two years in succession.”

He died in 1986. Somehow I missed knowing a thing about him until recently, when I was looking through some cards I’d bought at a resale shop. Seems that he did gag postcards, too. At least 15 of them.

regmanningHis style seems familiar. Probably I’ve seen his work without attaching a name to it. The card I have, copyrighted 1942, was mailed from Flagstaff in March 1946, addressed to a Master Georgie, so I’ll assume it was from a relative or family friend to a child — no one signed the card.

He or she did check off some of the lines on the card, which is amusing. Guess that was the intention. Wonder whether Georgie — later George — kept the card his whole life from the age of around 10 (say) to much more recent times, when it wound up in a box of cards at a resale shop. Maybe George, lately around 80, passed on not long ago, and his heirs had no use for gag cards from the 1940s. All speculation, but sometimes that’s just the thing for a found object in your possession.

I Went And I Believe

Still green, still summerish. I even saw people practicing baseball in the park over the weekend, though most evenings it’s now peewee footballers. Goldenrod has made its appearance in vast thick waves in some places, but only as a few sprigs in my back yard. Even so, that’s the first time I remember seeing goldenrod in the back yard.

Spotted in a big box retail store parking lot recently: a Jetta with a license plate frame that said on the bottom, “I WENT AND I BELIEVE.” From a normal standing position, the top part of the frame wasn’t visible, so I bent down to see just what the first part of that terse declaration might be. “Delphi” seemed unlikely.

Digression: According to Paths from Ancient Greece by Carol Thomas (1988), the last Delphic oracle was given to Julian the Apostate in 362. Wonder what that could have been. Maybe, “Dude, you’re hosed.”

The top of the plate frame said, CREATION MUSEUM. Must be the place in Petersburg, Ky., that also recently opened an interpretation of Noah’s Ark elsewhere in the state. I had to look into that a little further, and the owner of the car paid $30 to get in, or $60 for the “museum” and the Ark combo ticket, and who knows how much for the license plate frame.

I was a little surprised to discover that the Creation Museum also includes a planetarium. The CM web site says, “Sit back and be amazed as the planetarium projector displays vividly realistic images upon a 30-foot-diameter dome, allowing stargazers to travel anywhere in the universe. Enjoy learning from scientists and astronomers who affirm young-earth creation and explain how what we see in the night sky confirms God’s Word in Genesis.”

I can’t be civil about this any more. Morons. Does God in His wisdom want wide human variety? Including morons? I have to wonder.

Spotted in the Suburbs Lately

A lot of stealth rain recently, including last night. By that, I mean when I woke up in the morning, the grass and the sidewalks and streets were wet and puddled. At no point in the night did thunder, or even heavy rain, wake me up.

While walking the dog recently, I saw a fellow riding a recumbent bicycle down a wide sidewalk next to one of the larger streets. I can’t remember the last time I saw one of those. Not here in the suburbs; probably along Lake Shore Drive’s bicycle trail. He was going down a slope, so it looked fun. Not sure how much fun it would be going uphill.

Also on a suburban sidewalk: a old black banana peel. Does anyone actually slip on them? I might have, if I hadn’t seen it. But it stood out against the light-colored walk.

Not long ago, I went to buy gas at a station I sometimes go to, only because it’s close, since its prices are mysteriously higher than most other stations in the area. Occasionally you see those yellow signs letting you know that one pump is out of order. At the station I saw one, and then another and another and another. All of the pumps were labeled out of order. That was a first for that place. The old Soviet approach to gas stations, or maybe the more recent Venezuelan approach.

Postcards from politicos are arriving in numbers now. Large ones, 8.5 by 11 inches. It took me a moment to realize why that might be a good size. As standard letter size, cheaper to print. Also, more space to say (about your opponent) that you could carve a better man out of a banana.