Photo: Benjamin Lytal
By Benjamin Lytal
Every Monday this winter, anti-immigrant rallies have been attracting thousands in Dresden and smaller crowds here in Berlin. Maybe it’s some imprecise feeling of solidarity that’s sent me to Öz-Gida, a Turkish supermarket on Hauptstrasse.
I see dried eggplants, in a tall plastic bag like we would use for corn chips. Dried red bell peppers like frail pink scrunchies. But the dried okra: that I have seen before, most likely at HarvesTime. In many ways this market, with its exotic variety of foods, reminds me of my favorite grocery stores in Chicago.
Indeed maybe my coming here has less to do with the protests than with the fact that they have some good sour yogurt. In Lincoln Square I always served Zdan Middle Eastern yogurt when out-of-towners stayed over for breakfast: I remember how one friend in town for a job interview grimaced when she first tried it.
Why do I remember that? Read the rest of this entry »
A young author with her grandfather, who escaped earlier than her father and would occasionally pass through Chicago.
By Rebecca Makkai
Let’s say that, like so many, you were born outside the borders of your own country. Or more specifically, you were born in Chicago in the middle of your father’s fifty-year exile from his country. Say you’re one of those children of the “Fifty-Sixers,” the student revolutionaries who, after their rebellion was crushed (think Tiananmen Square, but with more statues of Lenin) ran across Hungary’s borders and wound up months later, wearing refugee clothes, in Chicago, Cleveland, New York. The Fifty-Sixers were young—young enough to learn solid English, to make careers here, to have children here. Young enough when they arrived that most didn’t head back after the Iron Curtain lifted. A few, like your father, are returning home only now.
If your family were French, or Russian, or Mexican, you’d grow up with at least a filmic impression of that place. But there are no movies, no children’s books set there, no restaurants full of Hungarian food. Just the occasional Olympic swim team. (Technically you’re Transylvanian—from the part of Hungary that’s now trapped inside Romania—but you know that what you hear about that place is the cartoon version.) Your father won’t bother teaching you the difficult and kinless language, because he doubts you or he will ever have the chance to return to the only place in the world where it’s spoken. Your knowledge of Hungary is entirely limited to the parts of it that pass through Chicago. Fortunately, a lot of it passes through Chicago. Read the rest of this entry »
Illustration: Dmitry Samarov
By Dmitry Samarov
In 2003 the Public Chauffeur Training Institute was located at Harold Washington College on Lake Street downtown. This was the place you had to go if you wanted to become a taxi or limo driver in the city of Chicago. I was returning to the job after six years of delivery driving, waiting tables, bartending and a few other service-industry gigs—none of which seemed to suit me financially, temperamentally, or in any other way. While I wasn’t a newly arrived immigrant to this city and country like the majority of my classmates, I still hadn’t quite found my place here even twenty-five years after my arrival from the Soviet Union. Cab-driving in America is primarily an immigrant’s job and has been so since sometime in the 1980s when cab companies decided to change from commissioned drivers to leasing. When there were no longer benefits and the entire burden of making a profit was put on the driver, the majority of Americans began to look for employment elsewhere. Few but the most desperate stuck around. It just wasn’t worth the risk. Read the rest of this entry »
Eric Anderson rides on a Berkeley bike boulevard/Photo: John Greenfield
By John Greenfield
When I first visited the Bay Area nearly two decades ago for the 1996 Cycle Messenger World Championships, San Francisco’s vibrant bike culture struck me as a vision of what I wanted cycling in Chicago to be like. I was particularly inspired by the massive amount of two-wheeled traffic on Market Street, the Michigan Avenue of San Francisco, during the evening rush.
The cover of Chicago’s 2014 Bikeways Report, released last week, features a recent photo of a similarly dense throng of cyclists on Milwaukee Avenue. In a few respects our city has pedaled past SF in terms of bike-friendliness. For example, we now have far more bike-share vehicles and miles of protected bike lanes per capita.
It didn’t help San Francisco’s cause that a successful lawsuit spearheaded by a cranky dishwasher and blogger named Rob Anderson in 2005 put the brakes on bikeway construction for several years. His paradoxical argument was that the lanes were a potential threat to the environment. However the injunction was lifted in 2010 and, since then, the city has been working hard to rebuild its rep as a biking mecca.
On a trip to Northern California last month, I mixed business with pleasure by checking in with a couple of colleagues for an update on the Bay Area’s bike progress. My first stop was Berkeley, the East Bay college town where my old pal Eric Anderson now works as the bike and pedestrian coordinator. Known as “Big Horn,” for the giant antique bulb horn on his basket bike, he was a founding father of the Windy City’s Critical Mass. He also recommended me for my first urban-planning job, to be his replacement as the city of Chicago’s bike-rack czar back in 2001.
Read the rest of this entry »
By Rob Brezsny
ARIES (March 21-April 19): In 1979, Monty Python comedian John Cleese helped direct a four-night extravaganza, “The Secret Policeman’s Ball.” It was a benefit to raise money for the human-rights organization Amnesty International. The musicians known as Sting, Bono and Peter Gabriel later testified that the show was a key factor in igniting their social activism. I see the potential of a comparable stimulus in your near future, Aries. Imminent developments could amp up your passion for a good cause that transcends your immediate self-interests. Read the rest of this entry »
By Rob Brezsny
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Do you have an entourage or posse that helps you work magic you can’t conjure up alone? Is there a group of co-conspirators that prods you to be brave and farseeing? If not, try to whip one up. And if you do have an inspirational crew, brainstorm about some new adventures for all of you to embark on. Scheme and dream about the smart risks and educational thrills you could attempt together. According to my reading of the astrological omens, you especially need the sparkle and rumble that a feisty band of allies can incite. Read the rest of this entry »
Illustration: Tony Fitzpatrick
By Tony Fitzpatrick
An older man rolled a baseball to a troublesome little kid at a country club one day. The older man, his skin touched by a half a century of playing the boys’ game in sunlight, was Ernie Banks and the boy was my son—and he still has the ball.
It is widely known that I have not ever been a Cubs fan. But staring out of this window in a hospital room, baseball seems a million miles away right now and winter has decided to add to its cruel toll our greatest baseball player. Even if you were not a Cubs fan, you were an Ernie Banks fan, because Ernie embodied the very thing that Sox fans claim to hate the Cubs fans for: He loved the game. Let’s play two. Read the rest of this entry »
By Rachal Duggan. Edited by Ivan Brunetti and Aaron Renier. (Click on image to enlarge.)
Illustration: Tony Fitzpatrick
As you may have heard, Tony Fitzpatrick had heart surgery last week. But our fearless columnist was prepared for just such an occasion, and filed this piece from his personal archive a few hours before going under the knife. We’re hearing good reports from the hospital and expect Tony will return to these pages in fighting form very soon.
By Tony Fitzpatrick
In his lifetime, the Texas-born guitarist and songwriter, Chris Whitley was, from time to time, criticized for the surreal turns his lyrics would take. His initial audience here in America thought he was a blues-folk rocker when they heard “Living with the Law,” his freshman effort for Columbia Records. It would not have been a bad assumption. There was plenty of Robert Johnson and Texas-radio kinds of sounds on that record; lots of dobro and grit, gravel and tumbleweed. It was a record of austere and American loneliness. It is one of my favorite records of all time for the very reasons some find it oblique. There is nothing easy about it. Read the rest of this entry »
Courtney Cobbs on the Orange Line
By John Greenfield
Social worker and transit fan Courtney Cobbs moved to our city from Little Rock, Arkansas, in 2013, partly because she wanted to be able to live car-free. She has posted some thought-provoking comments on my transportation news website about the need for better bus and train access on Chicago’s South and West Sides. I caught up with her by phone to hear more of her take on the equity issue.
You wrote a while ago that Chicago’s transit system is one of the things that brought you here.
Yes. I wanted to live in a city where I didn’t have to own a car, because I really care about the environment, and public transportation saves you money. I really like big cities, and I felt like Chicago was an affordable option versus New York or L.A., and I could live here without a car relatively well. Read the rest of this entry »