Archive for May 2013

My Love Affair in Glorious Black & White: Why Amazon Rules

Or, why Amazon loves the Chicago Public Library. Memory of  life before reading is a blank. Zip-zero-zilch. Given that I didn’t have the language–how could I put into words a memory? What is it like to not be able to read? I have no memory of my life before literacy. None. Words have always danced... Read more »

Confused in the South Loop-DePaul Stadium to be in 2nd or 3rd Ward?

Isn’t easy being from the South Loop neighborhood directly affected by the anointed DePaul Stadium project.  More like having Bigfoot stomp on your face with no recourse. Talk about Taxation Without Representation of the Tea Party days of yore. Or is it too much representation?  I’m just not sure. When you are represented by two... Read more »

The DePaul Stadium: Is it a boondoggle?

The South Loop Prairie District is miles from DePaul. Miles. Eight long, city jammed miles. Most of us in the South Loop couldn’t find the school without Google. Nevertheless, for some so far unidentified reason, Mayor Emanual is set to announce that DePaul’s 18 games need a NEW stadium and that new stadium MUST be built in... Read more »
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Boston from Italy

From Florence, Italy, the view of the tragedy in Boston at the marathon is clear…the wide world is smaller than ever. We are all connected despite our tribal moments when group A demeans group B, or seeks to kill it. The bells tolling in Florence echos those in Boston. Though 7 hours ahead of my... Read more »

Planting a raised garden in Chicago: Do window boxes count?

When the calendar flipped from a lousy April to a better weather (I hoped) May, I couldn’t WAIT to hit Home Depot to buy plants.  Given I live in the city and only have a large yoga mat sized garden–how do I plant a garden? A raised garden. I raise my garden in window boxes... Read more »

One Regret I Regret: or, if only I'd known what I know now

           If Dr. Who parked his time-traveling, blue police box TARDIS outside of my door, I’d revisit the younger me. That 21-year-old who agonized whether to follow her gut instinct and go to Lima, Peru to live with her American boyfriend and his family in 1972.  As my younger self’s guardian angel, I’d whisper “Yes–take that... Read more »
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Complaint free world: Not bloody likely

Having read about an organization aiming to make this a complaint free world, I thought–wouldn’t THAT be nice. . If only. If only it weren’t necessary to complain. But humans make mistakes; sometimes not owning up to them. So yes Virginia, complaining is necessary.   As to why I complain, let me count the ways.... Read more »
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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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