It has come to my attention that there is a proliferation of terrible drivers out on the streets of Chicago. And while I understand that not everyone can be as law-abiding as I am when sitting behind the wheel, I at least hope that people will try to improve their skills with experience and time. This never really seems to be the case. In fact, it seems to me that the worst drivers out on these city streets are generally those who have municipal cars. (While it may be unfair, I am lumping cabbies in with that group.)

Generally speaking, I just expect cab drivers to cut me off or do incredibly stupid driving maneuvers. When you learn to drive in the city you start to just accept cabbies as an environmental variable – kind of like ambulances or fire trucks. While ambulances may not always be zipping down the street trying to save lives, a driver has to know what to do when an ambulance is coming…the same is true with dealing with the stupidity of cab drivers.

But, apparently when your car actually belongs to the city, there is a type of authority that rises in the driver and allows them to do whatever they want when driving. This has always been true of police cars – sirens on or off you let them have the right of way. So, I suppose by default it should be (and is) true about the drivers of unmarked cop cars. I can even accept that the drivers of emergency vehicles are so used to having the right of way that they just assume they have it even when they’re not heading towards an emergency call.

So, I’ve been able to rationalize the bad driving behaviors of almost every municipal driving group, with one exception – buses. As far as I’m concerned, buses have no excuse for driving poorly, they have no rationale for sliding through red lights when they get tired of waiting – it’s a bus! Buses are supposed to be slow, they’re like the turtle of public transportation – slow and steady, but it will get you where you’re going…eventually. So, why is the turtle getting all aggressive and cutting me off?

Posted by: Conci N.

Technorati Tags: Chicago, Illinois, Chicago municipal drivers, Chicago Public Transportation, the CTA

The tradition of soap-boxing most famously associated with Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park in London has largely been lost in the United States. While it has arguably taken on new forms like spoken word—which finds its roots in Chicago, street-corner freestyle battles amongst youth, and even its modern counterpart of Blogging, we should never forget where the tradition started…in the streets. And this is where the “Street Corner prophet” comes in.
Here in Edgewater, there’s a guy who stands on the street corners, or under “L” stops, and sells incense to passers-by. Unfortunately, I can’t really remember his name, but he looks like an old, crazy Rasta guy. While most pass him by and completely ignore him, I stopped for him the other day and got some incense, and a piece of his mind.
I’m a huge skeptic, and this guy could tell. He impressed me right away by guessing my zodiac sign and my birth month right off the bat. He guessed a bunch of stuff about my personality as well, which was pretty on as well. He stopped at took a couple swigs from his Forty. He followed up with a rant that included bunch of mathematical figures and semantical word play that really didn’t make sense, his overall message was a clear “prophecy.” I was beginning to see the way he saw the world as a benevolent, spiritual place with one consciousness that had been manipulated by others with a different agenda. He concluded by giving me my incense and telling me that if I burned certain scents and certain times, I would achieve specific goals in my life. His philosophy began to emerge as an odd amalgamation of Buddhist, Hindu, Rastafarian, and various political theories. While I was feeling the social/political end of this philosophy, I left just as much a disbeliever in the spirituality of it all.
Despite my disbelief and disagreement on various things, I have to say that I could tell that this guy had a lot more on his mind than just getting a drug fix, which is what most people who pass by without talking often stereotype the Street Corner Philosopher as. But that’s just fine with me, because most philosophers throughout history have always been considered crazy guys (sometimes under the influence) who people are more interested in putting away or killing. And for some reason, no one thinks about just listening or speaking to them.
If we look into our own municipal history, the Haymarket Incident in the 1886 shows us that we, here in Chicago, have been guilty of similar things in our past. Speakers, thinkers, and others who were organizing the general strike on May 1st of that year were executed by the State of Illinois for being radical thinkers and participating in a bombing they weren’t even at!
And more recently, anti-war protestors at the taste were confined by the police to a small 10 foot square to speak out against the military recruiters there.
But that brings me back to my original point: Free speech.
I’d like to see a return to the old days when brave souls would simply take a crate out to the park, stand on it, and begin speaking their mind. I’m even for people throwing rotten fruits at them if they disagree! Perhaps we can convince Mayor Daley’s park district to do give us our own free speech corner like that in Hyde Park, but that’s probably unlikely.

I just got back yesterday afternoon from Missouri. I never thought I’d say this, but I never found the busy, alley view from my window appealing until I had been away from it for a few days. I wanted away from it all: the annoying honking in the alley that wakes me up in the morning when someone refuses to move out of the way, the drunken kids screaming and wandering down the sidewalks, the smell of Thai food wafting up through my window from the restaurant downstairs, the constant movement, the noise, the grime—in short, the city.

They say that you don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve lost it. Well, there’s just something about the Edgewater neighborhood that made me miss it. And camping in the middle of the boonies with no running water and electricity definitely made me miss this diverse, rich, complex neighborhood.

Needless to say, after 9 hours of travelling, I was too tired to make the long hike to Navy Pier to see the fireworks. So, I went to the lakefront a block away instead, and just watched what I could, which made me feel like the mooch neighbor next door that steals your cable and squints his eyes at the resulting static because he’s too lazy to unscramble the channels well. The fireworks here were not the same as they are up-close; there was no noise, no scared kids curled up next to their moms, no cheers, etc. Instead, I joined about 30 other people in Berger Park just enjoying the distant fireworks to the sound of the water crashing against the rocks.

At night, the distinctive sounds of the Fourth in the city came out, and reminded me of when I was a kid. There were huge explosions all night from bottle rockets, Black Cats, and M-80’s and the sounds of kids running around throwing fireworks at eachother. I understand that a lot of kids were probably blowing their fingers off by holding on to fireworks while lighting them, but that doesn’t mean they need to be illegal, it just means the kids need to be more careful! I mean, I’ve shot off plenty of Roman Candles while holding on to them.Too bad I didn’t bring any back with me.

That’s all, I guess. I hope you all had fun lighting off bottle rockets, and please send me any spares, as I’m always looking for company to go blow stuff up!

–Marwan

Technorati Tags: Chicago il, fireworks, edgewater, navy pier,

More information coming soon…