Archive for September 2013

The Three Little Thuggees; a small "d" democratic farce-in-progress

            Once upon today there were three little Thuggees.             One little Thuggee was called Rotten Ra, due to his egotistic belief that he rose in the east like the Sun god of ancient Egypt.             The second little Thuggee... Read more »

If life doesn't come with a handbook; where does the advice come from?

There you are. Warm and fed,and cozy and—HOLY MERDE–someone turns on the high beams—and with a scream of surprise, you are born. Welcome to the world Ethan and Theo. It’s 2033 and you are my strapping six feet plus tall grandsons with a grandmother who has no advice for you. What a clueless Grandma C... Read more »

CTA Lays an Egg; or Claypool's Crappy Ventra-Chapter 2

When Ventra was announced, it was touted as an improvement over other CTA payment methods. I had to wonder, why? The Chicago Card and Chicago Card Plus worked fine. Ventra/CTA ads said it would ease my way, at least that was the gist overheard in the audio advertisements blathered on the CTA buses I frequent.... Read more »
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My Guardian Angel in the Number 8 Jersey is called Eddie

On Labor Day I invited my darling neighbor and her two, tall, very tall and mature 6th and 8th grade daughters to the Art Institute of Chicago’s stunning temporary exhibit, Impressionism, Fashion and Modernity. With my membership card in hand, the four of us breezed in to spend a couple of hours drooling on the... 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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