July 6th, 2006

Quill5

You might know her . . .

. . . and if you don’t well, trust me, you ought to! My friend and former co-worker Lora gave birth to a son she named Isaac in mid-April (he’s an Aries if you need to know that). Mother and son came over for a visit on the 4th of July and these pictures were taken then. I know that several of Lora’s former co-workers cruise through this journal from time to time, and some of you have asked for info on mother & child, so here’s a visual update for ya. Oh, and if it isn’t apparent from these pix, I just want you to know that there is no alternative to adoring little Isaac!

  • Current Music
    Be My Baby - The Ronettes
QuillKBdMan

A beautiful night for a stroll

Yes it was. I left my workplace in the heart of the Loop at about 8:30 p.m. and began walking straight north up Dearborn Avenue, past the Goodman Theatre, over the Chicago River, past an ever-shifting urban landscape of sights and smells. Oh the smells! I strolled past the trendy bistros as they tickled my nostrils with their lovely aromas free of charge, while the less fortunate were trapped inside, paying hundreds of dollars for the right to be deprived of the long walk I was enjoying. But I’d go another block and the aromas would change – maybe the spices of an ethnic cuisine would wave as I walked past, as if I were a sailor just into port and they were the local pleasure vendors. Just as suddenly though, I might pass a bar that had opened up its front walls for the summer so that it might assault an unwary pedestrian with the sharply stale aroma of long-ago spilled beer that was never properly mopped up. But that’s OK. I’ll take the whole package.

I’ve made enough walks originating from the Loop and heading north so that I can describe a few of the almost universal milestones that I encounter along the way. The first and most important is what I call the North Avenue Barrier. To begin with, I decided years ago that if I can’t make it to at least North Avenue, then my walk has been a failure. Very often, I am seriously dragging in those last few blocks and I just barely make it to the bus shelter at North Ave. and Clark. But there’s more to it – if I can find a way to keep pushing beyond North Avenue, the walk will often become much easier. It’s as if my body has given up trying to stop me from walking. It’s at this point that I will usually enter what I suppose is the walking equivalent of a “runner’s high.” My mind enters a highly vivid and creative state. I will often compose intricate and passionate poems, songs, and essays in my head. Sometimes, I sit down on a bench in nearby Lincoln Park and jot them down. A big part of it is a feeling of tremendous emotional purging. The collected thoughts, frustrations, yearnings, and dreams of the day or week are finding a release valve.

Tonight was such a night. North of North Avenue, I decided to keep off the main street for a while and walk through the heart of Lincoln Park. It was rather dark and there are no streetlights in that part of the park, though there was enough light to keep me from walking into a tree or a pond. I suppose my late mother would have upbraided me for taking such a stroll in the big dangerous city, but you know, sometimes you have to walk where you need to walk. My favorite moment of the entire evening occurred in the park. I was nearing a large pond in which I have many times seen flocks of geese and ducks. I could hear the geese chatting with one another. It was too dark to see them, but at my closest approach they couldn’t have been more than 50 feet away. Their chattering in the darkness put me in mind of an all-water fowl cast for The Waltons saying goodnight to one another at the end of the day. I stopped for a moment and let their music fill my ears before I moved on. It was a wonderful thing to have my entire encounter with them completely defined through the sense of hearing.

I ultimately made it a few blocks north of Fullerton when I decided that it was time to wait for the bus. I’ve been home for almost five hours now, and this is the surest sign that it was a really good walk – I wasn’t at all tired when I got home, and I’m not particularly tired now, even though it’s 3 a.m. In this way, Chicago and I are made for each other – it’s a city to be walked in, and I love my walking.
  • Current Music
    Walking Man - James Taylor