Street Smart Chicago

Chicago Manual 2014: Who Wants to Have Some Fun?

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Sometime after I left the College, back in 1983, the phrase “Where Fun Comes to Die” attached itself to the University of Chicago in the zeitgeist. Funny thing, that, since I used to tell people that if I’d had more fun in college, I’d be dead, what with all the fraternity parties, Lascivious Costume Balls, “study breaks” and god-knows-what-else we used to frequent, where we’d lament our inability to have a good time at the University of Chicago compared to, we assumed, other schools. There’s no question fun reshapes its contours in Hyde Park, where play, foreplay and mindplay all have their place. Where that guy boasting about all his big ideas at the kegger might, in fact, have big ideas. After all, this place is ground zero for the atomic bomb, the Heisman Trophy and improv theater. How fun is that?

Newcity was founded by UChicago graduates right out of the College, so we’ve always had a special connection to the Grey City, and lots of time to think about it. Accordingly, this second edition of Chicago Manual is not like other Orientation guides you might see around campus. For one, it’s not chock full of recommendations for the best pizza in Hyde Park, or the social dynamics of study carrels in the Reg. It’s meant to be savored, to be studied, to have fun with. And it’s not written primarily by undergrads—though we do have a fine piece written by a fourth-year herein—but rather a mix of those of us who’ve graduated, and offer our perspective with the seasoning of time. (Plus a couple of writers also consider Hyde Park from the perspective of outsiders looking in.) Some are recent grads, some of us thirty years or more.  But the message is the same. Here is the perspective of “what I know now, that I wish I’d known then.” So now you know, and it’s your then now. (Brian Hieggelke AB ’83, MBA ’84)

The Green and the Green Line: Putting the Public in Public Transit—and Public Space

Towering Solitude and Pazuzu: Let the Beauty of Hyde Park Possess You

Out of Place: The Neighbor Outside Looking (and Sneaking) In

Train Yourself: Explore the City While You Can

That’s All Well and Good in Practice, But How Does it Work in Theory?

Lonely in a Crowd: A Holiday at the Moomers

Normal Life: Don’t Skip the Working Classes

What Will Become of WHPK? The College Radio Station Unlike Any Other

The Power of the Network: Give Before You Take

Chicago Looks: Can’t Hyde That Style

Things to Do with Your Tongue: Speaking and Eating Chinese with Professor James McCawley

 

 

 

What Will Become of WHPK? The College Radio Station Unlike Any Other

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My first connection with the station was when I was an undergraduate student at the University of Chicago,” says Marta Nicholas, “in 1957 through 1960.

“An oboist, I had put together a woodwind ensemble that got together weekly for our own pleasure. One of the pieces we played was being analyzed in the Humanities I class, so we were invited to come perform it live on the station WUCB, which was only five or ten watts and on only a few hours a day. It may have in fact gone through the phone lines rather than a regular radio transmitter—we used to joke that it went through the plumbing pipes and could be heard only by standing on your head in certain shower stalls. A couple of times I was on a listen-to-recordings-and-chat show hosted by our group’s French horn player.”

Soon thereafter, Nicholas “left the campus and the country.” When she returned in the early seventies, the station had morphed into WHPK, an acronym for Woodlawn, Hyde Park and Kenwood. “It was decided at that beginning to take the potential audience into account. Not only as listeners, but also as possible on-air participants.” Nicholas eventually served as the station’s international music-format chief. Read the rest of this entry »

Normal Life: Don’t Skip the Working Classes

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By Jenzo DuQue (Class of 2015)

The look is always the same. It usually starts with a gaping mouth, and then the eyes swell out of their sockets, followed by an eyebrow reaching for a hairline. That’s assuming there is a hairline; most of the time the gawkers are pushing sixty or have stressed their locks away by grad school. But regardless of whom I’m telling, it’s the same old song and dance each time.

“You go to the University of Chicago?” they gasp, a fork poised precariously before their lips.

“Yes, I do.” I say, balancing two plates in my left hand and another on my forearm. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

It’s hard for some people to stomach that I’m a waiter and a UChicago student. Shouldn’t I be off making breakthroughs in the Pirahã language or in cancer research? Probably. But I’m not. I’m doing what I’ve been doing since before college—just working because I need the money and honestly, it’s kind of fun. And I know you’ve heard about what happens if fun and our campus cross paths. Read the rest of this entry »

That’s All Well and Good in Practice, But How Does it Work in Theory?

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By Naseem Jamnia (AB ’13)

When I first set foot onto the quad—actually, it was the Ida Noyes courtyard, stone arches and grassy front—I was a goner. The Core’s opportunities thrilled me, even though the gym requirement totally blew; Northwestern, which I had visited that morning, sucked. What sealed it for me was when my tour guide paused by the Oriental Institute and asked which famous archeologist worked at the UofC.

If only the snakes were just the literal kind.

When we arrived, we were finally faced with our own worst enemy: ourselves. We looked around and saw not mirror images, but our murky reflection cast against the lake. How does admissions choose us, with applications starring perfect GPAs, dozens of extracurriculars, strong goals? We were all the same, though at the time, this was far from being a problem. Many of us felt that we had finally found where we belonged; everyone was like us and yet interesting! We had been the outcasts or nerds, the ones that either dominated class or didn’t speak up because it was too simple. We turned into the kids and the Scavvies; the techies, non-TAPS UT players, always-in-rehearsals; locked up in the Reg or Harper; ha-you-have-it-easy-you’re-not-a-science-majors; stop-complaining-about-crossing-the-Midway-Broadway-is-so-far away—by the end, we couldn’t even pinpoint where we had started because we had forced ourselves to go our separate ways. Read the rest of this entry »

Lonely in a Crowd: A Holiday at the Moomers

Essays & Commentary, Hyde Park No Comments »
Photo: Ashley Meyer

Photo: Ashley Meyer

By Michael Workman

By the time we manage the hour-and-a-half El-train-to-bus junket from Lincoln Square to Hyde Park, we’re already gripped with that particular combination of fatigue and active nerves usually reserved for those nights we’ve spent snorting lines of crushed Adderall washed down with too much booze. But tonight. Well. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all, and there’s plain cause for our anxious jubilation.

Our shadows stretch up the walk ahead, slowly splitting and shrinking beside, then behind us as we make our way up the 5500 block of Hyde Park Boulevard to Moomers. Not the ice cream from Michigan, but the Hyde Park institution, named after a founding tenant’s beloved feline pet, a name passed down, same as the hideout that preserves its legacy, tenant to tenant, generation to generation.

I’m with Cinnamoan Smidge, who I’ve been dating-slash-sleeping-with on and off again between bouts of mutual, relationship-ending, suicidal indulgences for roughly the last nine months. We’re here tonight because a friend of Cinnamoan’s rang up about the party, with whom she keeps texting as we stroll, finally locating the correct house number. And there it is, marked right on the buzzer, “Moomers,” it says, plain as day. We buzz, I count half a dozen heart beats, and we’re admitted. Inside, we’re greeted by Tyrone (not his real name), a young, wiry-framed guy in suit jacket and fedora who administers the place. Hugs and handshakes, and we slip out of our jackets and scarves, depositing them on the already-crowded coat rack just inside the door, opposite the large, dormant Tesla coil. Read the rest of this entry »

The Power of the Network: Give Before You Take

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“It’s not what you know but who you know.” We all know this saying, and we all realize how important networking is to getting a job, changing careers and even being more successful in our current jobs. With few exceptions, my fellow alums from thirty years ago credit much of their success to relationships they have built and nurtured throughout their careers.

For those soon to launch careers with a degree in hand, what is the best way to build a strong network? A common practice is to target influential people in one’s industry, and try to connect with them with the thought of “what can this person do for me?” A better idea is to turn this approach on its head. In his groundbreaking book, “Give and Take,” Adam Grant presents compelling evidence that “givers,” or those who approach life attempting to help others succeed, in the end benefit far more than either “takers” or “matchers.” He points out, and backs up his claim with data, that the best networkers in fact do not think about how they will benefit from assisting others. Read the rest of this entry »

Linework: Longstreet

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By Darryl Holliday and E.N. Rodriguez. Edited by Ivan Brunetti and Aaron Renier. (Click on image to enlarge.)

ILSTPRESS_Longstreet_web-1

Dime Stories: City of Killers

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Illustration: Tony Fitzpatrick

Illustration: Tony Fitzpatrick

By Tony Fitzpatrick

“There are nothing but murderers in this room…”
—John Rooney (Paul Newman) explaining just who they are in the world to Michael “The Angel of Death” Sullivan (Tom Hanks), in “The Road to Perdition”

There was a lot wrong with the movie “The Road to Perdition,” but not a damn thing wrong with “Road to Perdition,” the graphic novel by Max Allan Collins. It is a moody, poignant story of the love between father and son, the unforgiving nature of the Irish mob and the primacy of revenge among the Irish—and we are some vengeful motherfuckers.

The movie was far too long, but Jesus was it beautiful to look at, shot all over Chicago and Illinois, as well as bordering states. The Midwest has never looked more bucolic and heavenly than it does through the late, great Conrad Hall’s lens. Sadly, it was Hall’s last film—a noble effort by director Sam Mendes and actor Tom Hanks who, at his best in it, made you believe that he could be a remorseless murderer for hire. He was cast against type, to say the very least. Paul Newman gives what is to be his last film performance and it is a gem, a study in charm and stillness and Irish melancholy. The film is worth watching for his work alone. Read the rest of this entry »

Free Will Astrology: Week of September 18, 2014

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By Rob Brezsny

ARIES (March 21-April 19): These horoscopes I write for you aren’t primarily meant to predict the future. They are more about uncovering hidden potentials and desirable possibilities that are stirring below the surface right now. When I’m doing my job well, I help you identify those seeds so you can cultivate them proactively. Bearing that in mind, I’ll pose three pertinent questions. 1. What experiments might stir up more intimacy in the relationships you want to deepen? 2. What could you change about yourself to attract more of the love and care you want? 3. Is there anything you can do to diminish the sting of bad memories about past romantic encounters, thereby freeing you to love with more abandon? Read the rest of this entry »

Free Will Astrology: Week of September 11, 2014

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By Rob Brezsny

ARIES (March 21-April 19): In the 2000 film Cast Away, Tom Hanks plays an American FedEx executive who is stranded alone on a remote Pacific island after he survives a plane crash. A few items from the plane wash up on shore, including a volleyball. He draws a face on it and names it “Wilson,” creating a companion who becomes his confidant for the next four years. I’d love to see you enlist an ally like Wilson in the coming week, Aries. There are some deep, messy, beautiful mysteries you need to talk about. At least for now, the only listener capable of drawing them out of you in the proper spirit might be a compassionate inanimate object that won’t judge you or interrupt you. Read the rest of this entry »