November 29, 2007

Near extinction

Once upon a time, there were many. Some towering over local sidewalks. Others nestled in decades-old homes. Others hidden amongst the brick landscape of small downtown locations. Wheaton. Glen Ellyn. Bloomingdale. Lombard. Lisle. There were sightings everywhere. Some were warm, inviting, with an alluring song extending out like a familiar hand. Others were dark, cold, and almost daring you to come near.

But you did. The temptation was always too great to resist. And having made the bold leap into the unknown, you were rewarded with candy for the senses. The incense, almost intoxicating, and a constant reminder that these were new worlds. The images. They almost leaped off the walls and shelves. Where do you turn first? Eye-catching psychedelia. Bold new designs. Glistening shrink wrap. Vinyl as far as the eye could see.

And the sounds. Yes, the sounds. This was a brave new world, wasn't it? Extending well beyond the reaches of commercial radio, we were treated to a musical vision not intended for the masses. Some of what was shared was intense. Loud. Almost ear-splitting. Was this music? How come none of my friends were listening to this? Some experiences were almost cerebral. Who were these new artists reshaping or tossing away the old mold? What I heard was fresh. Not quite so familiar. Smart. Lyrics that were almost poetic. Song structures that seemed to take you on an actual journey, not just a 3-minute break at the highway rest stop. And some experiences were just breathtaking. Music that seemed to spit in the face of tradition. Artists playing time signatures that seemed to zig when you thought they should zag, showing a musical dexterity that would cause the average rock star "wannabe" to cramp up with exhaustion trying to keep up with the speed and precision.

25 years ago, they were out there. You didn't have to look too hard to find these small offerings of musical bliss. I felt secure knowing that I had a place to go to get away from the norm, the mainstream, the conformity. And there was the indescribable, absolute joy that came from those first moments returning home, tearing off the wrapping, revving up the turntable, and settling into a wonderful journey. The music. The artwork. The liner notes. All for me.

And now they are almost all gone. First, it was almost in slow motion. One disappeared. Then another. And then they were herded away in the middle of the night. Lonely shops. Empty bins. Unable to survive the changes brought about by the music "business" (as well as a mostly conforming public), they threw up their collective arms in frustration and surrendered. The music seemed to die. And what's worse. Nobody seemed to care.

Sure, some of the more densely populated downtown districts have managed to hang on to these beacons of hope (as blogger pal hawkins occasionally details in his DC platform). A few hung on through the tough times. And a few others might have quietly entered the scene. But out in Suburbia, it continues to be a sad time.

But there is cause for some hope. A survivor. Here in Geneva? It's true. Having established a loyal following in nearby Batavia, Kiss the Sky has decided to rise to the challenge in full, tightening its belt, padding its armor, and planting itself right in the heart of the downtown river community. I say "bah!" to the gourmet pet treat stores and expensive collectibles. "Humbug" to the trendy clothing boutiques and pricey restaurants. And I can say WELCOME at the top of my lungs to our new neighbor.

The familiar lights are back. The incense. The selection. The music knowledge from owners and employees who actually care. Vinyl is still secondary to the CD format here. But the back room is changing more each week. At least I have a choice. It's not just Hannah Montana and Celine. Britney or The Jonas Brothers (just TYPING those names almost caused me to weep). Nope. Real artists. Real music.

Monday was a vacation day. My first order of business had to be Kiss the Sky. And there was a familiar giddy sensation at the end of the experience as I sorted through my new purchases in the car. Cluster. Circle. Dead Kennedys. Comets on Fire. Wire. Six Organs of Admittance. More.

Much like 25 years ago. Please don't ever leave me again. Please.

The season begins

This past week officially kicked off the holiday season. For the next month and more, we'll be involved in the yearly routine of attending family feasts, birthdays, and assorted gatherings leading up to and including the new year. Whew!

Anita and I have been pretty fortunate when it comes to the holiday scheduling. Over nearly 20 years, we've rarely been put in difficult situations, like having to toggle between multiple party locations within the same day. Thanksgiving is one of those occasions that has always produced the same plan: Thanksgiving day at my family and the following Saturday is downstate further at Anita's family location.

[Friday is always reserved for our family feast at Barone's Pizza in Glen Ellyn. Ah, tradition...]

This past Saturday was the annual drive to Bourbonnais to visit with Anita's family. We were thrilled that this visit coincided with the opening up of the new southern extension on I-355. Years in the making, this addition to the tollway system now knocks off about 15-20 minutes of driving time and actually provided a less stressful route.

So, having arrived safely (and early!), we settled in for a relaxing day of eating, drinking, and socializing, as well as watching the painful end to the Notre Dame football season (fortunately producing a win). And Su enjoyed hours of fun with her cousins, Sarah and Erin (shown in photo).

November 21, 2007

And a great turkey day to all: an ode to my family

Just when I started to accept the fact that we had moved into November, now I'm just amazed that we're almost ready to move OUT of November. Yikes. This month -- hell, this YEAR -- has been just a blur. So much has happened since the start of '07. Some of the highest highs and lowest lows.

Has it already been a year since we found ourselves in the middle of intense job interviews in Des Moines (IA)? Has it been 11 months since walking away from that very job offer (and acceptance) and electing to keep the family camped right where it currently resides? 8 months since the closing of the design studio in Aurora, which placed me right back into hurried self-employment mode? And almost 6 months since I accepted my current Mgr. of Communications title in Downers Grove?

Anita went from stay-at-home mom to looking for a job (during the last scary self-employment period) back to stay-at-home status. And Su went from preschool into kindergarten, somehow rolling with the changes and stress, all the while keeping us on our toes as she continues to grow from small child into little girl.

As for thanks: Through all of the rough stretches, anxiety, and sleepless nights. Through all of the sniffles and colds, t-ball games, and school projects. Through all of the unexpected events (roof, flooding, car). Through an almost-insane work schedule during the late summer and fall. And through all of the moments meant for laughing and enjoying -- I thank the 2 most important people in my world: my wife and daughter.

During one of the strangest years to date, I continue on because of them.

[And there's still over a month to go!]

November 05, 2007

A man for most seasons

Back when we lived in Tucson (AZ), I remember having many a discussion regarding the importance of having "seasons" during the year. In the midwest, we have 4 very distinct seasons, although some can sort of merge together leaving you wondering what happened (usually the absence of a true spring or fall). In Arizona, we did have seasons. They just weren't as vibrant. Monsoons brought about great beauty in the fall. And winters were downright gorgeous. Summers were just plain hot. But I can't say I truly "missed" the midwest seasons when we were away.

I didn't start to appreciate these changes until we moved back to the midwest in '97. Running in the springtime was a joy. And, for me, there is no greater time to run or train than in the fall. Feet beating down on a crushed path through miles and miles of forest preserve is a splendor not to be taken lightly. The cool, crisp air -- just enough to actually show your breath in front of you but not have to cover up -- can almost take your mind off of the work and pain associated with a long training run.

Of course, once the temperatures sink down into the 30s and below, it signals the end of comfortable running and the addition of many layers of warmth, many more hours of darkness, and a serious lack of motivation. And thoughts turn toward the desert again. At least for a few frigid months.

The joy of fall is also accented by the beauty of the leaves. Breathtaking colors. When we lived in Winfield (IL), we were surrounding by giant oaks. It also meant dedicating entire weekends to the act of raking. Hours and hours spent moving piles from the back of the property to the roadside for pickup. Walls of leaves.

Now in Geneva, in a newer subdivision, this isn't so much a problem. We don't have tall trees. We don't have much to rake. There lies the trade-off. We also don't have the same beauty. I can finish my raking chores in about a half hour. Seems great, I suppose. But I would trade it in a heartbeat to get back to our old surrounding.

But at least we had enough leaves to create a little fun for Su...

November 01, 2007

Trick or treat, smell my...

Of the many changes that take place with parenting, Halloween tradition is probably one of the more fascinating. It seems like 20 or more years go by with little interest in the day -- aside from remembering each year that you need to stock up on some candy -- and all of a sudden you're thrust into the middle of it all, courtesy of a 5-year old.

Truth is that, aside from a few parties attended as adults, there really wasn't much to take from it all. But having a little one anxiously awaiting costumes, candy, and school parties makes it all too easy to start to share in the enthusiasm. Whether it's shopping for a costume, decorating the house, or watching "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for the first time since childhood (does anybody really understand why half of that show was filled with Snoopy in his "flying ace" segment?), I found myself actually enjoying some of the circus environment.

And so, on this particular day, I had the good fortune of setting up some "work at home" time, allowing me to actually participate in Su's good fun. Her elementary school had their Halloween parade outdoors around the school. All grades participate and family can show up outside to watch it go by. Anita and I took a small break from the day to go see. Su was all smiles, waving to the crowd -- even before she knew we were there. Obviously, she's not shy in public! Once they turned the corner and headed back to the school, the show was essentially over and we headed back home.

After a few more hours of work, I shut down and helped get Su prepped for the afternoon of walking the neighborhood. The two of us spent almost 1-1/2 hours on foot. Early on, she was running from door to door, at one point exclaiming (arms raised into the air), "This is the best Halloween ever!" Of course, her long history gives her quite a reference point. :-) Still, it was fun to hear her enthusiasm. She was loud. She was polite. And eventually she was... TIRED.

Yep, a mere 15 minutes after her declaration of joy, the feet were dragging, the bag of candy was dragging, and her eyes were displaying none of the glee from the other side of the street. I transferred the weight of her bag into the bag I was carrying (always good planning to help lighten her load) and encouraged her to complete the final strip of homes. Hey, we were heading that way anyway, right?

Overall, she had such a great time. Her costume was falling apart the whole way and the strong winds made it impossible to keep her hat on. But we both had a blast. She made a killing on the candy and saw so many of her friends along the route (amazing how many friends a 5-year old can have this early into the school year).

Once home, we dined on some Indian food, shared a few choice wrapped goodies, and Su soon faded and actually asked to go to bed -- almost an hour early!