Rooting For The Underdogs

The unlikely dream the biggest.

Maybe I Need Some Fresh Air

Serenity. I am sitting next to the fire place at Panera Bread Co. I have my hot chocolate and my laptop, and I'm just sitting watching the snow fall outside.

So I keep having the same dream. I have had it three times this week and twice last week. It's kind of a troubling dream but fantasic in its own respects. I leave. I just pick up and leave.

My dream always begins with me trading in my car for an old blue pick-up truck. Just an old chevy with some character and a tiny bit of rust. I quit my job, the stuff I don't sell gets locked up in a storage space that I return to from time to time, and I leave my parents a letter. It explains that I had to go and that I'll be back in two years. I cancelled my phone and won't have a permanent address, so I said I would write... but I never would put a return address on the letter.

I throw my duffle bag in the bed of the truck, take one last look and then just drive. I go west as young men do. I spend my first year in southern California. I walk into a bar/club with a help wanted sign on the door. The sassy lady that owns it looks at me a little suprized, like I didn't belong in that place. "Can I help ya?" "I'm just looking for work." She pauses, "You just get into town?" I nod. She just walks away. Then I give a rather impressive speach about what a hard worker I am and how much I need the job. She likes me, even though she doesn't want to hire me for the bouncer postion. (can't blame her) So she teaches me to bartend. She asks me my name and I tell her. Then she asks, "And who did you used to be?" So for the next year I would surf in the morning and tend bar in the evening. Everyone called me "Preacher" on the account that the owner thought it was funny that I used to be a minister and now was a bartender. But she grows to respect me as I befriend the regulars without getting caught up in the nightlife scene. And when it came time for me to leave, I just walked into her office and with out saying a word she already knew. "Time to move on, I guess, " she said without looking at me. "yeah..." She gets up and gives me a mother's hug. And I left.

After a long bit of a drive I pull up the lane to a ranch in Colorado. I tell the Rancher, a strong man with white hair and black suspenders, that I'm lookin' for work. He tilts his dirt colored hat up slightly so he can get a better look at me. "Well boy, what can you do?" "Anything you teach me, " I reply. He just spits and says, "Is that so?" I spend a year and a half at that ranch. I snow board in the winter when there isn't as much work to do. In the summer I live above the barn with the other ranch hands. And the reason I stayed six months past my two year mark is because of my encounter with the Farmer's daughter (funny I know) who visted from Denver. Nothing dirty. I just found a woman more stuborn than I am.

The dreams are very detailed and I'm leaving out quite a bit, but they always end the same. I pack up my army dufflebag and tell Chuck's daughter I'd be back for her. My fellow ranch hand who I sold my truck to drives me to the airport and I leave for home. I sent a letter to my parents to ask for them to pick me up. I haven't spoken to any friends or family in two and a half years. I have no idea what has gone on in two years. But when I arrive at O'hare Eric is there to pick me up. He almost doesn't recognize me because I've been hardend by the sun and hard work. (and my cowboy hat is covering my face.) But he drives me home where my family and some of my friends have been waiting. I take over the teaching minister position at PCC as they are happy to take me back. I plan to marry the daughter, but the dream always ends with me staring out a window felling astranged from everyone I know, because there is no way to explain what I experienced in those two years.

I keep having this dream.

Where else can you get Free Panties and $5 Gloves...?

You got to love Chicago. Like most cities, amidst the cold, hard cash and the people that won't make eye contact with each other, there beats the heart of traditionalism. Not tradition in the traditional sense of the word, but more of a selfish, liberal traditionalism. Even though residents of the Windy City boast to be "open minded" and claim to hold loosely to the "old times" as soon as the snow starts to fall and the temperature drops, everyone looks forward to some of the same things every Christmas season. The lighting of The Miracle Mile (Michigan Ave), The Christmas Parade, Shopping at Water Town Plaza, Marshal Field's window dressings that would be cool if they weren't so freakin' creepy, and what they used to call "Skate on State".

Now they don't ice skate on State St. It has been moved to Millennium Park. So on Friday I trekked up to the City to meet one of my friends and go ice skating. The City was just like I remembered it... freezing.

After sitting in traffic for two hours, I paid $16 to park my car on Michigan Ave. Martha Stewart was signing her new book at Borders, so the crazies were coming out of the woodwork. Apparently, ex-cons that cook go over big in Chicago. One person actually asked Martha to sign a copy of The Shawshank Redemption... and was "asked to leave." So I moved past Borders and the old water station to the monstrosity that is Watertown Place. I had to pick up Ashlie at work so I rode 14 escalator for 7 floors in Marshal Field's before I found an entrance to the mall. She works at Gap Body, which is Gap's version of Victoria Secret. Ashlie, loyal to the Gap (and increasingly beginning to believe in the Gap the way My Big Fat Greek Wedding believed in Windex), she thinks Victoria Secret sucks. But a customer had given her a coupon for a free "very sexy panty" from Vicky's. So we redeemed the coupon for some kind of ... fabric... that what of it that was there was see through... awkward. Anyway, it was good that it was free, because it was about 2 cents worth of material. Then we stopped at H&M and got $5 wool gloves. H&M, you are so trendy and cheap... where would I be without you.

Then we met up with Ashlie's friends and rode the bus down to Millennium Park. Ride the Bus in Chicago... I dare you. On the way down we saw the practice run for the parade and the lighting of Michigan Ave. Which is better than the real thing, because there is no crowd. We skated for two hours and bumped into Billy Barton and Phil who I went to school with. It's kind of funny when two guys bump into each other at an ice skating place. "What are you doing here?" "Aaahh... Nothing" "What are you doing here?" Ice skaking is just like roller skating. Apparently, I can do both. In the future I play to be the old guy at the roller rink "roller dancing" in the middle with short shorts... but that's another story. It was soothing to get out of the office for a little while, breath in some fresh air, and see other people enjoying themselves. It was like this happy, giant, awkward dance with too many people on the floor. It was beautiful.

Anyway, then it all ended. All the lights went out, the music stopped, the tourist went back to there hotel and the four of us just sat up on the balcony by the giant bean at Millennium Park. Lake Michigan on one side and a surprizingly quite Chicago on the other. Good Times.

Monday, November 14th 2005

You know those days where you think about chucking it all and joining the military.

This is one of those days.

Kill IKEA vol 2

Last time on Kill IKEA vol 1...

I don't know what it is about IKEA. It is bright and shiney and the whole building shakes when you jump up and down on the floor. It is mystifying. And their low low prices... I mean forget about it. So I went to the Bollingbrook store to get my shelves, and surprise surprise... I couldn't get all the pieces I wanted. So I had to drive the extra hour to the Shaumburg store.

And then I saw bare chested women... but we'll get to that.

Now, everytime I go to IKEA I never know what is going to happen. Usually I learn something about life and the great questions of the universe. This trip I learned that I look like someone who works at IKEA. I don't know if I emanate some kind of wisdom vibe or if my aura is yellow and blue, but from the moment I walked in the door, I started to notice that other customers where staring at me. It looked like they wanted to come up and talk to me. I kept thinking I was running into people that I am suppose to know and couldn't remember their names. This happens a lot. But finally one couple worked up the courage to come and ask me, "Where can I get a small end table." My response was sad. "It is one floor up and next to the desks... but I don't work here." Then the flood gates opened.

This process repeated itself (I kid you not) at least ten times. The sad thing was I new where everything was. I even knew which bins items were in. But I would always tag my line "... but I don't work here." Like I thought they would tell their friends or something.

Then when I was done being a customer rep I saw something that made me uncomfortable, angry, and stupified all at once. I saw breasts. Not boobs. Breasts. I use the formal term and distinguish it because "they" (the breasts in question) where in the act of breast feeding. If you have ever been to IKEA you will know that along the central path of the store, there are little room modules set up so you can see the furniture in action. Some woman had just plopped down on a couch in the middle of the store and started breast feeding her child. No "cover up blanket" didn't try to hide anything. She was just "out there." I just wanted to walk up to her and say, "Excuse me, would you mind putting those things away, or there are blankets in that bin over there for $4. I'll buy you one if you use it." Women that breast feed are slightly distracting just because you know what is happening and it is a little gross. But at least find a place off the beaten path and cover up for God's sake if not mine. Why Why Why would you do that? I understand that the baby is hungry, buy why would you just open wide your shirt in the middle of a store and expose yourself. Of coarse this woman was sitting in the Mod I needed to look at to find the bin numbers for my selves... but I just left and found it by walking up and down the endless rows of bins. Gross.

........
Still Shivering.

Masquerade

Our family never celebrated Halloween. The first time I went "Trick or Treating" was when I was 22. Instead, my family always went to Chucky Cheese or Show Biz Pizza on Halloween with another family. And when I told this to my small group it was returned with the question, "So are you going to do that with your kids?" I'm not sure what to think anymore. Halloween used to be viewed as evil because it celebrated witches, ghouls, and goblins... things that are unmistakably symbols of evil. But I don't think that is true anymore. I think it may have turned into something worse.

In the early 80's Halloween was boycotted by lots of families, because the whole point of Halloween was to be as scary as possible. It was a time when houses got egged, "tricks" happened, and sick-o's were putting razor blades in the candy. Halloween was unabashedly a time were evil was celebrated. But thanks to the over commercialism of the 90's Halloween has been sanitized and the tomb whitewashed. Now, the child portion of Halloween is very safe and user friendly. Parents walk or drive their children to safe neighborhoods and to
houses of people they know and trust. In fact, a lot of trick or treating is done at business. But deeper than the candy in the bags, I believe Halloween has changed into a different species of the same genus.

Now the point of Halloween is not to scare, but to pretend. Halloween costumes now are not for people looking to scare others, but to be admired by others. Kids get to be who they really want to be. Little girls are princess; cheerleaders; Mrs Incredible and little boys are spiderman; jedi; Legolas. The costumes are now about heroes. Pro-skaters, Movie Characters, and most are not the villains. On the adult level this is true as well. And I do mean the "adult" level.

Every costume for adults is about being admired. Sexy Bar-wench, Sexy Snow White, Naughty Nurse, Bad School Girl, Sexy Pirate, Big Daddy Pimp, Knight, etc. The list of best costumes reads like a fetish magazine, and believe me the list is longer than the skirts. Halloween is not about being scary, it's about being sexy. The holiday itself changed into a giant masquerade ball. Everyone gets to wear a mask and each mask is a license to be someone you are not. What normally requires alcohol, requires only a slinky dress and some cat ears. What is normally taboo and pornography is just a costume and a party. Halloween is less reminiscent of the Adams Family and looks more like Mardi Gras. But it's not just the costumes. Halloween has become one of those Holiday's like Mardi Gras and Spring Break that communicate the message that you can dress up as someone else, go places you wouldn't normally go, and do things that normally you would regret because you are just playing a part. The part of someone who is cooler, sexier, and more fun than you really are.

So I'm faced with the dilemma. Would I let my kids celebrate? It doesn't seem Halloween is about witches and warlocks anymore, but I'm afraid it may have become something much more dangerous. Evil that looks cute with those shoes.

(Take your time with this one, I don't have kids yet, I suppose I should get a girlfriend first.)

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