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Flamingo Schlamingo

Y'all, it's a lovely cool weekend and Bears Training Camp has opened in Bourbonnais, IL, out in the intense cornfields.   It takes at least an hour for me to get there.  I went once, bedazzled by Love of Bears Syndrome.  I have since been stricken anew with the condition called If It Takes Over An Hour To Get There And I Am Not Getting Damn Autographs From Anyone But People Who Might Get Cut Then I Ain't Going.  If I want to be ignored I will go hang out in a hipster bar.  I can get to one of those within 10 minutes and I harbor no hope for how that might turn out.  The Bears want their fans to come and then basically ignore them. I've stated this in  years past:  the fans are what make you a commodity, Messrs. Bears.  If the fans stopped caring about yours asses, you'd be bagging groceries and hanging on street corners, wishing you'd finished your degree programs.  Yeah, yeah, you heard me.  If you have fans, treat 'em nice ...

Did Someone Say "Flamingo"?

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The Art Institute of Chicago has a show called "Impressionism, Fashion and Modernity" and it's pretty darn cool.  There are wonderful paintings, amazing clothing (those dresses were done by hand and how the hell?), and makes for a stunning exhibition.  What fascinates me most about an exhibit of this nature is how long it takes to assemble it.  Bottom line:  years. What came to my mind -- and I am sure I am missing steps -- is that first, they come up with a theme.  Next, they start researching museums and private collections that have pieces they might include.  Continuing,  they request permission to use the pieces in the respective collections or museum.   And onward, they collaborate with other museums and corporate sponsors to underwrite transit, insurance, packaging (including just what immediately springs to mind).  The pieces usually are together and moved to different museums as a unit -- this show was at the Musee D'Orsay in ...

More Flamingo!

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So I was over by the Calder in Federal Plaza, having been disappointed by yet another day of zero mail delivery at the post office.  It had rained but the rain clouds had passed.  People love taking pictures of their loved ones when they are on vacation.  Sometimes they are taking pictures that I know will be a picture of the thing -- a Chicago landscape or some landmark or other -- and the person(s) will be a dot(s) in the picture as well.  I then have to decide if it's worth it to me to offer my services, i.e. "Do you want me to take your picture?" My photos of things are respectable but my pictures of people are really quite nice.  I don't know why but I can really get the best out of total strangers. In this case, I let it go.  The young man kept sending the woman farther and farther away.  She was going to be a dot in the picture.  She could be a total stranger.  He missed the TV show I saw in the early 70s where a photographer, giving...

Flamingo!

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In 1974, Alexander Calder's 50-ton, 53-foot Flamingo was unveiled in Federal Plaza in Chicago.  Unlike some of Calder's better known works which are mobiles, it is an abstract stationary sculpture.  It's doesn't move with the wind but its designs makes it look like it might. There used to be a modelo of it in the lobby of the post office that was an exact smaller scale made by Calder so the blind could experience it.  There was a plaque next to it describing it in American English and in braille.  It was quite thrilling for me to see it and touch it.  It disappeared from the post office and I imagined it languishing in the basement of that facility but have come to find out the modelo (also called a maquette ) resides in the Modern Wing at the Art Institute of Chicago, roughly three blocks east of its former location. Flamingo is right in front of the post office where I have my PO box.  I have been trying to take pictures of it every day I am over ...

Tell Your Mother She Wants You

Last week we talked about those teens who can barely wait to come to the city so they can see art and see awesome things that can be found in the city. This week, our beloved Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup and there was a parade and a downtown celebration and ill-mannered teens came downtown with liquor they'd stolen from their parents which they put in thermos bottles.  Clever!  No one ever ever ever has thought of that before. I work in an urban train station that serves the northern and northwestern suburbs of Chicago.  When I entered the building, there were multiple clumps of teenagers who'd come into town for the day.  I say clumps because they weren't going anywhere.  They were standing around and chatting, sharing their thermos bottles filled with booze.  Standing near the bottom of an escalator was just as good as off to the side.  Standing in front of the mailboxes would also do.  They were also very, very loud.  It was 7:15 a.m...

The Wide Open Spaces of Chicago

After work on Friday, I was walking from the South Loop to the river to meet family members.  I enjoy looking at people.  I like looking at their faces and into the eyes and maybe we'll share a smile; maybe the person will look away like I've tried to rob their house; maybe the person just never ever wants to meet the gaze of a stranger because strangers are scary, dangerous, or uncomfortably odd (of which I am proudly the latter).  Sometimes you see strangers doing things that make you instantly like them because you know what's going through their heads.  Such was the case on Friday. There is a very nice McDonald's on the northeast corner of Clark and Monroe, right by Chase Plaza.  It's in a glass-walled building that allows patrons seated at the window seats to look out and enjoy the city; it allows pedestrians the chance to view them. As I walked by on Friday, there were three teenagers sitting in the window.  One of the teenagers had taken his 49¢ ...

She Is Where, Part 44

Every signing in their town took place at the massive title company in the central part of downtown.  The real estate attorney -- or, if  one were recognizably fortunate, one's very own boyfriend -- would accompany the about-to-be owners and a lot of papers would be signed, maybe they'd realize how much money was being spent and how long debt would go on and they'd break into a cold sweat, and then it was over and the place was purchased. But first, she had to meet her boyfriend at his office. Mike's offices took up the entire 29th floor of a midrise building that had space overlooking the lake, the park, and a museum.  Mike's corner office looked east and south which gave him a lot of sun and let the three tropical plants in his office get enormous.  The rest of the space was occupied by his less-senior law partners, more than several paralegals, an IT department of some size, plus many administrative assistants.  People seemed mostly not miserable.  M...