Bikini

I bought a 

bikini

so I could walk around 

my condo 

in my 

underwear,

but not really 

be in my underwear.

sorry

no 

pics

Brain Off, Hands On, or Puttering & Damn You, Wirecutter!

I love to putter and make nonsensical little things with my hands. After spending eight hours a day at a desk thinking and typing and talking, I like to play with my hands and build things, like Legos and embroidery and crossstitch kits. When I build little things, it is brain off, hands on. There is some thinking involved, but not the work at a desk and come up with a plan thinking. In these little kits, someone else has already done the thinking. All I have to do is assemble. My Pilates instructor has a client who is a CEO. 

"Why do you come to me for Pilates when you are smart enough to figure it out on your own," Tim asked his CEO client.

"Because I don't want to think. I am paying you to think for me," the CEO client replied. 

Likewise, me and the kits. I don't have to think of something to build. All I need is a few bucks and  a few hours, and voila, my creative itch is scratched.

I was fine with Legos, sewing kits, and whatnot, but then I was reading Wirecutter in the New York Times where they list things like "Best Crafts" and "Best Self Care." There, I found a little library house to build. When it is done. you can slide it in on a bookshelf in between the books. Damn you, Wirecutter! More things for me to build! As if I have empty space on my bookshelves, Wirecutter. You should know better.

While building these little things are fun, the problem is finding space for them when they are done. My dad had this problem. When my mom was alive and had Alzheimer's, he would buy craft kits to build. He had dozens. In his four bedroom house, one bedroom was dedicated to to crafts. If I had a four bedroom house, I'd probably do the same, honestly.

But I don't have a four-bedroom house. I have my cozy condo in the city. I am going to need to find a home for my hobbies.

 

Big Shoulders and Pope Bob

I am not gonna lie: I am tickled the new Pope is from my hometown. It is exceptionally cool that Pope Bob hails from the City of Big Shoulders, a term coined by Chicago poet Carl Sandburg.

Chicago has had its share of cool people who, even if not born there, lived there. Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, and Michael Jordan are the biggest names who have spent formative years of their career there. 

Now a Pope from Chicago? Not just an American, but a Chicagoan. This is unreal. Chicago went nuts when the Pope John Paul II visited in 1979. I didn't see him, but I remember the big deal of his visit. Now a homeboy? Forget about it.

The most amazing thing is Pope Bob sounds like me. Hearing a Pope speak in fluent English was one thing, but to pick up the baseline Chicago accent? That was special. Sure, he doesn't have the full Carmine from The Bear, but he doesn't sound like he is from New York or Boston or Texas. He sounds like a regular guy from Chicago. Pope Bob--what a name! Pronounced in Chicago to rhyme with Saab.

Chicago also has its share of decent, kind and hardworking people. The City of Big Shoulders, strong, hard working, resilient.

I am rooting for Pope Bob. I hope he does well and makes his city proud.

Chicago

BY CARL SANDBURG

Hog Butcher for the World,

   Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,

   Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;

   Stormy, husky, brawling,

   City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.

And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.

And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.

And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:

Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.

Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,

   Bareheaded,

   Shoveling,

   Wrecking,

   Planning,

   Building, breaking, rebuilding,

Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,

Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his ribs the heart of the people,

                   Laughing!

Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.