Witches Gulch

Witches Gulch

Mark, being new to the Chicago area and the Midwest, has suggested we take a few road trips this summer. We have been to a couple of places in Indiana and Michigan. We've been to the Studebaker Museum in South Bend, and to Douglas Dunes in Michigan. We've also been to Prairie du Chien, Milwaukee, and Galena. So I need some more ideas. I have thought about Starved Rock, but that involves a lot of walking and climbing. Not that I am opposed to such physical efforts, but Mark, I'm thinking of Mark. There is another place that looks very interesting. It's called Witches Gulch. It's in Wisconsin, and it appears to be a very lovely place with nice boardwalks through the little canyon so that old people can go there. The only drawback is that it is on private property and you can only get to it if you pay for a boat ride. I also suspect that it is very, very popular because it is in the realm of the Wisconsin Dells, one of the most trappiest of tourist traps in the Midwest. The Wisconsin Dells is where your dad took you because the Rocky Mountains were too far away. Anyway, if anybody has any good information on Witches Gulch, let me know. Otherwise I can always take Mark down Gangway Gulch. It's a short trip and I can be back home in my recliner within minutes.

Gangway Gulch

My Babies

This is April. When we lived in Florida we knew that the nice weather was over by the second week of April. No more cool fronts would blow through. No more mild weather when we could turn off the air conditioning and throw open the windows. Meanwhile in Chicago and the north, people would be exuberant with spring fever. That is what I have. I forgot the joy of springtime in Chicago. I forgot about the smells and the plants bursting out from their winter death. I am still waiting for my little ginkgo tree in the back yard to put forth something that looks like it survived the winter. I worry about it. What I don't have to worry about are the tulip and crocus bulbs I buried last fall. They have come through just fine, and as the crocus wane, I expect the tulips to pop. As for my little greenhouse in the basement, that pretty much worked out okay. I had a lot of sprouts come up, marigold and Nasturtium mostly, and I have now transplanted them in a large planter in the yard. Even the grass is growing and I figure I'll have to fire up the lawn mower soon. Ah, springtime in Chicago. It sure is great... but I do remember past Aprils up here in the north. It isn't going to freeze again, is it?

Giving You the Finger

Yesterday I was at the doctor's getting my hand x-rayed. It was about two months ago that a loose brick and a pile of Scout'spoop took me down. I fell hard but I've fallen hard before and I have always recovered. This time however, the pain in my pinky finger would not go away. I expected that after a period of time it would all be good. But no, it still hurts like hell.

Funny thing about growing old. You fall every once in awhile. I used to fall back when I was young, but I sprung right back up. Now falling is epic. It is something to remember. Just the other day I was out for a walk with an old friend of mine. We were chatting, I wasn't paying  that much attention, when I heard a thud. It was the sound of a human hitting the concrete. My friend hit it hard. The immediate reaction is to make sure the fallen hasn't broken anything, to help him back up, and to make sure he can go on. He could, he was just fine other than a bit of blood. Now if it had been forty years ago, I would have laughed. Not just a giggle, but a big belly laugh. People falling is funny, that's why America's Funniest Videos has been on television for nearly thirty years. When you are old, people run over to help you. They are concerned. After all, if nobody comes to help pick the old fart up, the old fart could still be laying there the next time you come by. Nobody laughs when old people fall, they check for broken bones.

So back to my tumble two months ago. I got the x-ray and the doctor looked at it. No broken bone. The doctor says that I probably have a deep bruise and that I should give it more time to heal. So the all clear has been sounded. You may now laugh at the old fart who fell picking up dog shit.

Mark's First Year in Chicago

Mark was not happy with my decision to move back to Chicago. I gave him the option of staying in Florida, albeit without me. That did not fly. So for the last year I have had to listen to every gripe, every problem, everything wrong with Chicago. First off, health care. Mark got off on the wrong foot there. He went through some cockamamie place that gave him the worst of Obamacare and sent him to what he described as "A welfare doctor." Of course he was correct. Okay, wrong insurance policy. That was rectified and now he is happy with his doctors and his insurance. His next complaint was about Chicago drivers. What the fuck is wrong with you people? Every other car, the driver is steering with one hand and texting with the other. Sometimes they're steering with their knees because they can't text one handed. I had better luck driving amongst the drunks in South Florida. And those goddamned Honda automobiles. Are they giving those things away? Honda must be the most popular car in Chicago, and the most popular among those people who like to drive ten miles per hour under the speed limit. Seriously, every time I get stuck behind a Honda they are driving like shit. Another Mark complaint are the pedestrians. Mark cannot figure out the pedestrians in Chicago. Is it a suicide wish or are they just the most brave motherfuckers on earth? We are constantly slamming on the brakes because Chicagoans like to step out in front of cars without looking. Once again, they are often texting while walking. Every time I back out of a parking space I have to ask Mark if he sees anybody back there trying to get run over. Number one on Mark's list of gripes, the weather. Yes, Chicago winters are brutal and I promised Mark that he could go visit Florida during the worst of it. Well, it turned out that this winter was not so bad and he just never got around to going to Florida. But I had promised Mark Florida and I was going to give Mark Florida. Despite the fact that winter is over, yesterday was cold and rainy. So I packed Mark up into the Ford and drove him over to Florida. Umm... not quite the real thing, but a close recreation. The Lincoln Park Conservatory. It's a beautiful garden under glass in Lincoln Park with palm trees, ferns, flowers, and a nice warm and humid atmosphere. Welcome to  Florida Mark, I am a man of my word.

Year One

Passing time with Lisa and Mark at a bar in Tinley Park.

So it's been a year. One year ago I left my home of twenty seven years and I headed out for Chicago with my two dogs and my best friend, Dennis. Mark had flown ahead the week before. Such a good move on my part. Considering the glitches at closing and the insanity of the movers, it was a good thing that Mark was not around.

So what have I experienced in this past year? Well for one thing, my beloved dog Bette, up and died on us. I knew the move was going to be very hard on Mark, but I had no idea that Bette would rather go to doggy heaven than move to Chicago. Over the course of the year I have also discovered that the movers must have liked some of the things I had, because they did not deliver them to Chicago. Among the missing was my air compressor, numerous tools, and a whole lot of things that Mark cherished. Yes, that's what happened, the movers lost Mark's things. Actually they did forget one thing that Mark had wanted badly. On our front porch was a pile of yard gnomes, sculptures, and other crap. I pointed all of them out to the movers and told them that "This shit is going too." My old Florida tenant later called me and said that all that crap was still sitting on the porch down there.

A year has passed and I got to enjoy a Chicago summer and all the bullets that a Chicago summer brings. I got to watch as the green of summer turned into vibrant fall colors, and then watched those colorful leaves fall to the ground and die. I was very excited to be with my family for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, something that I hadn't experienced in twenty seven years. It turns out that it is still pretty much the same. Lots of noise, laughter, and food. I was prepared for a typical Chicago winter. I purchased super heavy winter clothing, boots, a snow shovel, a snow blower, and bags of snow melting salt for the sidewalks. We had a total of two weeks of snow on the ground. This was quite possibly the warmest, least snowiest winter on record for Chicago. I only had to bring out the goddamned snow blower twice. It still has a full tank of gas. As for the clothing, it came in handy because even at fifty degrees I need to be wrapped up like Nanook of the North. It seems I still have that Florida blood running through my veins. And finally, I have been able to spend time with my ninety five year old mother at least once a week for the past year. In Florida, all I could do was call her every Sunday. Seriously, I have visited my mom more often this past year than I did in the ten years before I moved to Florida.

Oh, I forgot. My sister Lisa. What a saint. She put up with Mark and me for seven weeks in her house before we got our home in the city. Seven whole weeks with my dogs, Mark, and me. Thank you Lisa.