So around Memorial Day I decided to put the landlord's planters boxes in the backyard to good use, but planting an herb garden, tomatoes, and peppers. Here is the initial results of the tomatoes. I'll be chronicling the gardening experience at Chicagoist for anyone who wants to keep track.
Hot on the heels of seeing my work in print in the Sun-Times comes Time Out Chicago's "dive bar" issue.
I'm all over that issue, as well. Check out the cheap beer chart, which shows that I don't just know my highbrow brews.
Overall, it's been a week of major highs and lows. But isn't that life itself?
So I did. NOw it's your turn to go out and buy a copy of the Sun-Times today, or just read my article on summer beers here.
Last night's show with Zohar (featuring Erran Baron Cohen) was a great way to close out this chapter of HotHouse, and proved again that it's about the music, stupid. I also gave a little speech to that extent distilling the better passages of what I wrote here yesterday for public consumption, which was received with a mixed reception; there were some pro-Marguerite types in the audience who didn't appreciate some of my words. It's been a year, and I can't fathom the levels of hostility and emotion I feel from others when her name is mentioned. I know that she founded the place and all, but a sign of a good leader is that he or she leaves his charge in a position to succeed after him. and that didn't happen. I've been trying to be the shepherd recently, both at HH and at Chicagoist, and not lash out when incited. But it's hard. And when people started cheering her name last night, all I could think of is how they would react if I stopped the speech and asked them if they had to choose between paying rent and bills or eating over the winter, like some I know had. Would they cheer then?
This morning, it's all about recovery, as the unofficial staff goings away celebrations started last night. I should do laundry, browse job postings on Craigslist and mediabistro, and clean the house. And I probably will. But right now, I just want to breathe. This is my first unplanned Monday night off in close to eight years. I knew that most every Monday I had a standing date with Yoko Noge, one of the most genuine, lovely people to bless my life. That will be missed. Dearly.
