"I am always watching you!"

Is my mental snippet today.

Yes, I am talking to you....you seagulls that perch on the light fixtures on the Franklin Street Bridge....

I refuse to allow you to crap on me again...I see you up there and then go completely around your dropping zone.

BTW...just when you are you flying back home to the Florida beach?

i'm smartly outta reach

“I would not like to live in the city.”

The 9 year-oldish looking boy said to his Mom as I walked past this morning.

Which reminded me....

I started working in Chicago when I was a 17 year-old senior in high school, due to an overloaded class schedule in my junior year - I only had classes in the morning. So I was able to go to school and then take the train into the city to work a few hours at a small law firm in the afternoon.

That was 32 years ago - last month.

Back then my grand plan was to have two residences – one in Chicago that I would use during the week; and for the weekends - one in a western suburb – where my family and friends resided – so I could reconnect and relax out in the “country".

That never happened.

What did happen was a marriage; a house in the burbs; two kids; a bigger house in the burbs; a divorce; a smaller house in the burbs; my son moved out; so now an even smaller house in another suburb.

The first house was about 20 miles from where I live now – the last three have been within three miles of each other…..

Once I planted my roots – I stayed.

But within the last six months or so, I started having this little voice - way, way in the back of my mind nudging me into the city. What I thought I wanted all those years ago – my grand plan – could actually happen.

If my daughter chooses a Chicago college to attend – she and I could rent a place in the city for a time and I could get a taste of what it is like. My weekend suburban home would have to be homes of friends and family (I can’t afford two places!) – but it could work.

I wonder why that little boy didn’t want to live down here?

Maybe I should have slowed my pace to hear his answer to his Mom’s follow up question of “Why?".....

I sometimes wonder if the snippets I overhear are messages from the Great Beyond that offer me guidance.

Well they could be!

No, I haven’t been drinking this morning.

At least not yet.

don’t fret

Cubs Lose! Cubs Lose!

Although I would have wanted a different end result...the experience was perfection - enjoying the game from a viewpoint directly in line with the first base of Wrigley Field on an insanely beautiful pink-and-gray-sunset summer night..eating Blommer's chocolate covered malt balls, Garrett's caramel/cheese popcorn, and drinking Old Style beer, all the while surrounded by the most faithful fans in the history of the game......it just doesn't get much better than that.

whose at bat?

Reminiscing....

For this morning’s walk to the office I decided to detour from dilf’s favorite street, Wacker (in dilfspeak that's “Whack – Her!”) and headed north on Canal Street crossing over the Chicago River at the Kinzie Street Bridge.

Ahhhh...the Kinzie Street Bridge...steeped in history - most of which is negative:

In April of 1987 the bridge tender lowered the bridge onto a Yellow cab, crushing and killing the driver and injuring his two passengers.

In April of 1992 the Kinzie bridge was again the site of tragedy - while replacing the pilings that protect the bridge from passing boat traffic – the Great Lakes Dredge and Dock Company unknowingly cracked the wall of the long-ago-abandoned Chicago Tunnel Company's early 20th century coal and goods transport tunnel, weakening it, which eventually caused a leak that flooded many of our City's buildings' basements.

And most recently in August of 2004, the driver of Dave Matthews Band's bus, "accidentally” opened the waste receptacle for the toilet while idling on the open-weaved-iron bridge...at the exact moment an uncovered sightseeing boat was passing underneath...raining crap, literally, all over the tourists.

As much as I enjoyed the different views during my detour in this morning...I think I will stick to my normal walking course - trying not to show up in a future blog writing about me and the cursed Kinzie Street Bridge.

slip off the metal ridge

“He almost crashed!”

I said to the two guys on the corner.

I was talking about the bike messenger that just rode by....looking backwards....straining to get one last glimpse of who these two guys on the corner were discussing.

“I just told him that she has to cause accidents!” one of the strangers responded.

SHE was a drop dead gorgeous Asian gal with a very tight, well-filled tank top and hooter-short shorts.....in pink.

A member of my male posse has always said that he just LOVES summer in Chicago because of the outstanding sightseeing.

In case you are out “sightseeing” bear in mind that besides enjoying the views, please watch where you are going.

summer’s bestowing

“Wow..honesty and trust..

You don’t see that much these days!” he said with a southern twang.

“One of the perks of me coming in here everyday – if I don’t have money, or they are too busy for me to wait to pay – I cover my debt the next time I come in.” I responded as I paid for two coffees this morning at my suburban Chicago Dunkin Donuts.

“Just like it should be!” he responded.

As I left I noticed his car had Georgia plates, which explained the twang, but left me wondering ….. is there anywhere in this Country where those two things, in conjunction with purchasing goods, prevail?

not just an ol’ wives’ tale

Lunchtime Visual Snippet….

There actually is a purpose to full backsided underwear – unlike its “sexy” thong-a-dong-a-ding-dong sister – wearing “regular” panties keeps a clingy-flowing-dress from wedging up into your crack while you are walking.

dilf will be stalking

House Burned!

was the first black marker scrawled line on her cardboard sign this morning, followed with:

Money gone!

Severe injuries!

Family dead!

Please help!

As much as I don't advocate doling out money to panhandlers....if I see her again - I might give up a dollar or two for creativity alone.

on her own

"This morning is a 10!"

She said as I walked past them.

As much as I have written “so sick of this Chicago weather” posts before..

this perfectly temperatured, slight-wind-off-the-lake-BBM-eyes-solid-blue-skied Chicago morning makes up for it all.

At lunch I am walking to the beach and back……

and if it wasn’t for my mortgage payment and the rest of my fussiness-of-life-bills to be paid - I would not walk back inside – at least until sometime in September.

seasonal changes in Chicago – yes, I remember

"What are you doing for Father's Day?"

He inquired of his co-walker this morning.

Which made me think..

Father's Day....Dad's dead...

I must write!

My father was born an eldest son on July 5, 1935. He is pictured here with his grandmother, three sisters and baby brother.

His parent’s lifestyle choices and personal demons caused him to be raised, at times, in an unloving, unpredictable, cruel environment. He was forced to become a survivor, grow up and take on adult responsibilities at a very tender age.

That childhood shaped him into the man that we loved. It made him strong – in every sense of the word – it made him a provider, because he knew how it hurt not to be provided for; it made him a lover – because he knew the feeling of not being shown love; it made him a preacher – because he realized that only with the help of the Lord did he survive and make it through; and, it made him a friend – because he knew how important it was to have someone say a kind word to you.

He was a son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, woodworker, doctor, gardener, politician and priest.

He did it all.

But of those roles - the grandfather role was one that he did best.

He had taken the curves that life threw at him....caught them, dodged them, and threw some back until he was perfected into being a grandfather.

He was Grandpa, Papa and Opa.

He desperately loved and endlessly taught his grandchildren.

He was the kind of grandfather to his grandchildren that white-puffy-clouded-blue-sky-dreams are made of.

He taught things that they have yet to realize. I know that the older grandchildren are able to cherish those lessons; and that the youngest ones – those that unfortunately got to have him in their lives for the shortest amount of time, or the one who has never known him – will be raised with the values and love that he would have given them.

With the upcoming celebration of Father’s Day – if by chance you want to honor a father's life – honor it by:

Teaching your son/daughter/grandson or granddaughter how to make a slingshot out of a tree branch; or to ride their first bike;

Working hard and being proud that you can provide for your family;

Stopping to help a neighbor in need;

Taking time to say “Hello” to a stranger;

Spreading the word of the Lord; and

Being generous, loving and caring.

I always try...with the hope that his legacy lives on past tomorrow.

still filled with sorrow

Lunch Snippets - Three Random Thoughts....

1. Guys please DO NOT wear hairpieces, rugs, toupees, plugs, etc.....we can ALWAYS tell it is not your hair and it looks ridiculous;

2. Nobody, except if you are Kate Moss-ish, should wear satin....unless it is worn under your clothes; and

3. If you are 20 and possibly making the choice to not return to college full-time, currently on monthly meds, not knowing what the future will bring - DO NOT QUIT A JOB THAT PROVIDES YOUR HEALTH INSURANCE AND SOME SECURITY.

immaturity

The saga of my big, blue ball….

As a Snippets' side note....some four weeks ago, in yet another attempt to ward off the fat fairy, I spent $20 on an exercise ball.

A big, blue exercise ball to use instead of my traditional office chair.

I had been hearing and reading about the virtues of using one:

You can flatten your abs;

Strengthen your core muscles to help your lower back;

Improve posture;

Tighten your booty muscles;

Firm up your thighs (by clinging to it for dear life so as not to roll off!); and

Other only-can-be-good-for-me things.

I sat on it all day – every day – and I loved it.....

Until last Friday.....when I had to work late in order to get a filing off to court.

Halfway into revising the 68+ page document....I heard what I thought was my tummy gurgling.....actually it was more like a little farty sound.....phhiiifff.

Then I started sinking....

Down...

Down...

Down.

In the haste of correcting this document – I left one of my desk drawers open..

A sharp-edged desk drawer...which consequently poked a hole in my big, blue ball.

My big blue ball is now in a landfill.

I will be buying another one....

only after putting protective bumpers on my drawers....I’m thinking.

sinking

"Old school...."

I overheard a guy say this morning....right about the time I was passing the Beehive Shoe Works on Wells Street..

As I glanced in the window I saw a row of businessmen all having their shoes shined…old school style.

The Bee is one of those almost lost and forgotten, but needed-now-more-than-ever kind of old school place.

Where they not only shine shoes....but they repair them.

Need an extra hole punched into your belt – making it smaller or larger?

They can do it.

Strap broken on your briefcase, purse or man bag?

They will fix it all.

keeping you out of the mall

Happy Birthday to......

the man, whose poster takes up wall space in my Momma's bedroom....

Mr. Johnny Depp....

who happens to be in Chicago TODAY - his birthday - filming the 1930's John Dillinger movie "Public Enemy" - not only in Chicago, but right here in Susan Snippets' River North area.

While picking up lunch I got to witness some of the filming and returned to my office to spread the word....my friend Kath went over and was able to secure these pictures...

This is the Birthday Boy in the car...unfortunately all you can really see is his hand, but it is such a handsome hand....



and some of the store fronts that have been changed.....



and some of the extras.....



You can go to Chicago Film to get more information about filming in Chicago....the new Hollywood - Midwest style.

mag mile

A lunchtime snippet….

brought to you by a homeless woman who had set up shop on the sidewalk outside the Walgreen’s on Washington about half a block west of our Great Street.

There she was surrounded by all her belongings encased in plastic bags of varying colors; sitting in a fold-out chair - not begging for money – actually she was in a world all of her own.

Shoes off.

Socks off.

One leg up in the air – filing her heel with a pumice stone.

If you think that her priorities might be a little out of whack....you obviously have never suffered from dry, cracked heels.

The pain is unbearable - like the curse....

or worse

"He asked me if I knew where I was going?"

I told him "Of course I do!" was this morning's snippet from two women on their way to somewhere in the city.

That had me smiling on this impending-thunderstorm-Friday.

I have been lost more times than I care to blog about.

I can usually get to where I am going fine....it is in the turning of a map and/or written directions around to come back home that gets me in trouble.

Is your inner compass out of whack?

Do you suffer from excessive lostness?

And I am not just talking about driving...this includes walking around too.

Or am I the only one to be a forever-to-get-lost-mess?

GPS

Reflection

We all do it - either habitually or just periodically.

It is how we are wired.

There is an inner need to take a glance or sometimes a more lingering look.

As I did it today while walking past the Civic Opera House, after seeing the man in front of me look, it made me wonder why.

Could it be that we want to see if we look to others like we imagine ourselves to be in our mind’s eye?

Do you know why?

Eureka!!

Pay Dirt!

The mother load!

I think I have finally come up with an invention that will make me millions!!

This morning while walking the sidewalks of this beautiful City to the office – enjoying the suddenly-summer weather – I was encased in cigarette smoke from the attractive 40-ish woman in front of me who decided it was time to puff away!

That is when the light bulb went off.....

I am going to start marketing small, medium, large and x-large sized goldfish bowls (sans goldfish and water) for smokers to invert over their heads, thus helping in two positive ways:

The first would be it keeps all the glorious smoke that a smoker so craves within their breathing zone.....every last wisp of it; and

Secondly, it would allow us non-smokers to actually walk in the open air without being encased in their second hand spew.

something new

“That isn’t Blagojevich!”

“It isn’t?” she replied.

“No, see that’s not his hair.” her lunch companion said.

Yesterday, in the midst of my whirlwind day of getting THE filing out the door to court, lawyers, clerks, etc., I ran out to Singha to pick up some tofu soup and while there I was handed these great snippets.

The two people went back and forth in front of me – leaving the restaurant and then returning to see if our Boy Wonder was actually dining there.

Good luck with that, Singha would be a little low class for the likes of him.

Him - the man that I shook the hand of and voted for because he stood for all of the middle class, hard working, flag waving folks.....who has turned out to be just one of the good ol’ boys, driven by all the wrong things, the least of which would be ego, power and the almighty dollar.

holler