A Tale of Two Uncles

 Uncle Emil wasn't really my uncle, we just called him that.  He was actually my Uncle Eddie's brother, and the only reason Uncle Eddie was my uncle was that he was married to my mother's sister.  

One day, when the two uncles were kids back in the 1930s, they were fooling around with a .22 rifle in that big prairie that used to be by Midway Airport.  According to my map app, there are no big prairies by Midway Airport anymore, but there still was when I was a kid back in the 1960s, so I'm pretty sure there was back in the 30s.  The big prairie I remember was about where the Orange Line links up with the airport today.  

Be that as it may, one of the two uncles took a pot shot at an airplane that had just taken off from the airport.  Uncle Eddie always said that Uncle Emil was the shooter, but when Uncle Emil told the story, he said it was Uncle Eddie. I'm sure they did not intend to damage the plane, they were just two dumb kids fooling around.  Normally, an airplane in flight would be out of range of a light rifle like that, but this plane had just taken off and had not gained much altitude yet.  Indeed, my uncles could see the pilot, which means the pilot could also see them.  The plane promptly turned around and went back to the airport, where it promptly landed.

The prairie was swarming with people in a matter of minutes.  Some of them wore uniforms and some were dressed in suits like you would wear to church.  They were coming at the uncles from all sides, cutting off any hope of escape.  The uncles, however, managed to evade capture by hiding in a jungled up mud hole, almost completely immersing themselves in the mud.  There they remained until long after dark, when all those people finally gave up and went away.  

The uncles got into trouble for coming home so late and for wrecking their clothes, but they never divulged what they had done until decades later, when Uncle Eddie told the story at a family gathering.  I heard Uncle Emil's version sometime later and, like I said, each uncle identified the other uncle as being the actual shooter.  Both uncles have since died, so we will never know which one was telling the truth.

Woman's Work is Never Done

As my wife's health has deteriorated over the years, more and more of the household tasks have fallen upon my shoulders.  Of course I am no spring chicken myself, but I'm still in better shape than she is.  It is a running joke between us that many of these jobs "only take a few minutes".  The thing is, though, that those few minutes add up throughout the day and, before you know it, you run out of day before you run out of jobs.  I know that I haven't been posting a lot for some time for other reasons, but the current situation has not helped.  Speaking of help, we have agreed that we need to hire someone to help us keep up with the daily grind, and we intend to do it as soon as we get the time.  

I did all my own housekeeping when I was single, while holding down a full-time job, and I never gave it much thought, assuming that all single guys did that unless they were still living with their parents.  Then one evening, I brought a girl home with me, and she refused to believe that I did all that by myself.  She accused me of having a wife or girlfriend that I wasn't telling her about.  Apparently, she had been inside more guy's living quarters than I had and assured me that none of them was as clean and well-ordered as mine.   I also had plenty of time for hunting and fishing in those days, as well as pretty active social life. 

As I mentioned previously, I plan to grit my teeth and vote straight Democrat next week.  I certainly like Trump's agenda better than Harris', but they both might be lying through their teeth anyway.   If we elect Harris and she does not live up to expectations, we can always vote her out in four years.  I'm not sure I could confidently say the same thing about Trump.

Speaking of politics, I noticed this year that both candidates seem to be holding a lot of rallies, with the audience going nuts like they might do at a sporting event or a rock concert.  Those people seem to already love the candidate.   This could be called "preaching to the choir" or "preaching to the converted".  What do they hope to accomplish by that?

Uncle Ken's post about the old neighborhood reminded me of an old story that circulated around my family while I was growing up.  I don't remember whether or not I have ever posted it before.  Did I ever tell you guys about the time one of my uncles shot down an airplane with a .22 rifle?  

The Eve of Destruction

 Beagles is still with us.  He liked my last fb art post as he does every week.  And I see where our short term buddy, Free Tim has begun his old blog.  Think I will give him a comment sometime after Halloween.

When I was writing about the trip to Gage Park I was thinking about Old Dog who I believe has always lived in the same hood except for when he was serving his country.  I wondered what that was like.  Are there people there who he has known boyhood who he runs into from time to time?  Can he turn a block and suddenly see 60 or 70 years back in time?

The blog began in 2012 and I think Beagles and I were exchanging emails for two years before that which would take us to midway in Obama's first term when hope was still fluttering in my liberal heart.  Beagles didn't like Obama.  If memory serves me well, which is not a sure thing, he thought Obama was a muslim, and I was able to point that out to him.  I believe that is the only thing in Beagles' mind that I ever changed.  

But even if Beagles did not like Obama he was more sanguine about the political situation than myself, a pretty rabid partisan when I was in the mood.  Sometimes he said something on the order of there will be another election in a couple years (Obama beat Romney who was rather a flip flopper, but I liked him for that, better to have someone who didn't have strong opinions than somebody who had passionate opinions that I loathed).  Sometimes Beagles' guy would win, sometimes Uncle Ken's would, it all sort of worked out, neither of us got all that we wanted, but then we never lost everything either.

2016 was different.  The rough beast came slouching to the white house and to the dread of my ilk and of myself made himself at home.  This was not the give and take which the country had become used to.  Then he was vanquished, and now he is coming back stronger than ever.  

I have read that both sides now believe this will be the last election if the other side wins.  I don't see how Kamala, a run of the mill liberal, will change the country that much, we have seen her likes before.  I guess if some crud like Ted Cruz was running I would despise him and all, but I would be thinking who would we be running in four years.

But Trump?

The votes of me and Old Dog don't mean a thing here in topaz blue Illinois,  Only Beagles has a vote that counts and last I remember hearing he is not voting for Trump and is even thinking of voting for Kamala.  I hope this is still true.

Idle speculation

It's nice to see a new post, regardless of how long it takes.  I could have posted earlier but then it would look like I had two posts in a row and I don't want to hog all the glory.  Thanks, Uncle Ken, for letting me off the hook.  I wonder about the welfare of Mr. Beagles but no news is good news, isn't it?

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...and then I was back downtown, noisy, smelly, hurry up downtown...

Good observations about the annual trek to the old 'hood and the differences in our realities can be glaring.  I'm only three blocks down the street of my childhood home and as I wander about I can easily see what has changed but much more has stayed the same.  The stability is remarkable despite gradual changes in demographics; if anything, the area has become much more upscale which I find amusing.  Another change is the number of neighborhood associations, groups that get together and do clean-ups, the planting of native flora, stuff like that.  And as I type this I can gaze out my window and see the murky haze of downtown past the colorful treetops.

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What an entertaining election year!  It looks like our democratic process could use a lot of work, in my opinion.  There was a time when folks could disagree without being disagreeable but such is not the case today, it seems.  There are plenty of issues that can (and should) be addressed, such as the limitations of the two-party system, the downsides of Capitalism, and the financing of political campaigns.  I'm keeping my thoughts to myself; now is not the time to go on the record; who knows what the algorithms will conclude?  Meanwhile I can grab a snack and enjoy the show.

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The Institute, whither will it drift?

Downstream.

 

The Trip to Gage Park

 Two moons now, the song of Beaglesonia has not been heard in this troubled land.  And the land has become more troubled than ever.  Russkies are getting the upper hand, Netanyahu has unleashed his big guns and is shooting up the place.  Those fierce Death to America Arab, Muslim types turn out to have been paper tigers and are now cowering under drone and missiled skies shooting popguns against heavy armaments, and we are awaiting the assault on Iran.

Oh, and at home we are at each other throats, both sides thinking that if the other side wins the election it is the end of the country as we know it.  The miracle of Kamala has faded and now the dark scowl is seen across the land.  I can hardly stand the squalling on CNN.

And Monday I took my annual trip to Gage Park.  A warm fall day, pleasant to the feel and the smell. I got off the train at Kedzie.

There once was a huge Kmart at 51st and Kedzie abuzz with Mexicans coming in with money and coming out with colorful goods, household necessities and big colorful toys for their kiddies.  It has been empty now for at least 5 years, a big concrete hulk crumbling into its huge parking lot.  There are signs pasted up on it announcing stores that will be opening up there soon, but the signs are dusty and crusty and there are no new stores.  The neighborhood around it is still bustling.  Maybe it will come back.

The next stop is 55th and Kedzie, the four corners.  The restaurant is now a Walgreens, the drug store is now a Mexican deli, Talmans, the huge savings and loan that was the anchor of the community has been torn down and a motley assortment of fitness centers and Starbucks and suchlike have taken its place.  St Gall, the spiritual center still stands, 2,000 years and still going strong.   

West on 55th Street, a few empty storefronts, but things are bustling.  Four blocks down is what we used to call the tracks.  There is only one track now and the wide and long prairie has given way to a spiffy well-groomed park.  There is a fancy baseball diamond with some small bleachers.  We used to play amid bumps and rocks and bases marked with the remnants of cardboard boxes.  But it was fine.  Still fine now I imagine for the little leaguers that play there now.  Baseball.  150 years and still going strong.

The house on Homan Avenue still stands in its place among the rows of bungalows. All of them neat as a pin.  

Enrico Tonti is now Monarcas Academy, Enrico having been found lacking in the eyes of the political correctness police.  The big gravel playground of my youth is filled with out buildings.  The place is busting at the seams.  Some kids were out at recess, attended by some adults.  We never had anybody watching us and we had a ball, the oldster in me complains, but still the kids were ignoring their overseers and having a ball just running around and screaming at the top of their little lungs.  Human beings, 200,000 years and still going strong.

Past the crumbling hulk of the Colony where we kids watched technicolor movies in air conditioned comfort.  An Italian beef, sausage combo at Nickys, packaged in styrofoam and those styrofoam like McDonalds fries, but still delicious. 

And you know all the while I was walking through the neighborhood I had this feeling that I used to have on summer vacations when you would wake up way early in the morning and realize that it was summer vacation and you didn't have to do a thing all day, just walk around in the neighborhood and see what is going on.  I guess the hood is still going strong.  

Got on a Kedzie bus to the train and then I was back downtown, noisy, smelly, hurry up downtown, but the summer vacation mood stuck with me all day.

The Institute, whither will it drift?