Tag Archives: Chicago

He Stole Her Soul in a U-Haul and Dragged Her to Texas.

At the tender age of twenty-four, Penny Atwater did what she promised her father she would never do; she followed a guy to Dallas. He sensationally sucked. His name was Richard and he was vile, but she didn’t see it. She was super in love. It wasn’t a quick decision that she made. They had gone to college together and started as good friends. After graduation, her best friend group formed a very irreverent and cheeky Chicago Storefront theater company. They all spent most of their days and nights together, obsessively clinging to each other as wolf packs often do. Richard would normally be her very last choice in men. She didn’t find him very physically attractive. He was pudgy and not very masculine. He was also a bit of a braggart, but he was the most talented actor in the lot and funny as hell. That rated him pretty high in her book. In those days, he kept her constantly laughing. The gang loved to fake hate Richard. As much as he tried to convince everyone that he was a winner, they all knew he was full of crap. They just put up with his bullshit because he was the best actor they had on the roster. Penny wore blinders to his shortcomings and was happy for the attention. It’s important to know that before Richard, Penny had relationships with two out of the five available guys that were in the company. One was just a fling buddy, using each other out of boredom on random drunk nights in between relationships. The most recent love fail was significant and it was with Richard’s best friend, Harry. Penny and Harry had been lovers for a while, but kept their escapades on the very downlow. Or so they thought. Everyone eye-rolled at their constant flirting whenever they were in the same room and they knew that Harry spent some late nights down in Penny’s apartment. She was deeply in love with him, but that didn’t matter because he didn’t love her…not in that way…and he eventually broke her to bits.

In reality, even before she romantically committed to either of them, she was kind of friend-dating them both. They were a mighty threesome and they went everywhere together. Both men doted on her and treated her like a little doll. Penny’s bookends, they all used to joke. In some ways, there was an unspoken competition between the men; the prize was Penny’s smile and laughter. When lines started getting crossed between Penny and Harry, Richard pretended like he didn’t know anything. This affair lasted over the span of six months. Eventually, Harry got bored of the sexy side of Penny. He called the romance off after he met a redheaded actress who had an apartment full of five cats. He was smitten while Penny was quietly devastated.

That is exactly the moment when Richard swooped in for the kill. He didn’t care that he was sloppy seconds; he was just happy he won her. Even after they coupled up, they still remained super close with Harry and the transition seemed strangely seamless. She just kind of morphed over from Harry to Richard like a wafting cloud. The new couple quickly became obsessed with each other. Within a matter of months, Harry moved in with redhead cat lady and Richard moved into Penny’s bottom floor apartment of their theater company two-flat Chicago Ravenswood compound. He might of been her 20th boyfriend ever, but at that time, she thought he was the most special. She was certain he was The One.

They lived very artistically, very free, very poor, but very happy. There were dinner parties, Breakfast at Tiffany’s cocktail-like vibes where everyone would come over after shows. There was always a play in rehearsal or in a performance run. If there wasn’t a current production, they were writing and workshopping a new script. There was always a revolving door of performers coming and going when it came to the Paulina House. It was in a prime location for the prime of their young adult lives. It was a half a block from the El stop and steps away from the laundromat and some great local bars. They were directly across the street from Johnny the Nazi’s bar, a favorite hang to play pool and buy cheap drinks. They were usually the only people in there. They didn’t know Johnny was a Nazi, until they learned he was a Nazi, and then they stopped going there to support the Nazi. They had real life Riverview Park carnies that originated from The Appalachians to the left of them and jokers to the right. Well…behind. The joker was actually this one really odd fellow named Jerry who was also in the troupe. He lived in the back coach house. He smelled funny and always had some questionable guests sneaking in and out of his house in the wee hours, but he was funny too, so they put up with his shenanigans. Penny’s best friend’s Cassandra and her husband Clive lived upstairs. They were like the den parents of the troupe. They spent most of their communal time in Cassie and Clive’s living room, drinking copious amounts of chianti, chain-smoking Marlboro lights and listening to people fight over which was Shakespeare’s great monologue.

Like a whisper, Penny and Richard, as a couple, slowly started to stray. He was very controlling of her, orchestrating her every move. It became harder to hide it. He thought for her, spoke for her, made all of her decisions. She even looked at him when she would order her food. No one in the group was comfortable witnessing it. It became clear to everyone that something strange was going on with them and that Penny was losing her shine. Cassie and Clive and a few others tried to talk to her about it, but she refused to see it. Angry that everyone was passing judgement on Richard and not understanding their relationship, she really pulled away from them all, even Cassandra. Years later, Penny and Cassie would refer to this time in their lives as “The Diaspora” or “The Time When Richard Kidnapped Penny’s Soul”. Even after a few months of hardly any contact, it came as a shock to everyone when one day, out of the blue, Penny and Richard made the big announcement. They were moving to Texas.

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#Lentphotoaday April 8th. “BRING”

Ok, ok, I’ll BRING it.

If you read my last blog, conveniently written just three fresh hour ago, you are caught up on all my nonsense. It’s easier of you just to fill yourself in, then come back. I’ll be here.

As it states in Luke 2: 10-11,

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.

Ok, so this is funny. I was an actor in the city of Chicago for years. Out of college as a theater major, I was in a couple of different theater companies. The first troupe was called Studio 108. It was a silly, albeit freaking cutting-edge, ground-breaking, totally brilliant and talented gaggle of all my best college besties. Onstage shenanigans galore. We subsidized our meager performance pay with boring 9 to 5’s. Simon’s Tavern in Andersonville was our church and the Jukebox was our choir. We chain-smoked Marlboro Lights, made out with each other in the back alley, filled our empty bellies with meat (Guinness) and Melort backs. Tiny Chili Frito bags were 50 cents and we just kept.them.coming. Artistically, the mission of our productions was crazypants. We all had pseudo characters that put on pseudo productions. Actors, playing actors, playing actors. Hey, Waiting for Guffman, we beat you to it.

#lentphotoaday

My character was called Quarkee Borkenhagen. Adorable, dumb as a rock, all things precious and a little smidge touched. She misspelled her name every single time she used it. Quorqi, Qwuerkie, Quarkie. She also played Angel Gabriel in the Christmas Nativity scene of one of our holiday productions. To set the scene, the audience threw Styrofoam snowballs at everyone partying in the Manger scene. For proof and authenticity proposes, there is no actual proof. Just the good word on the streets. There is no video of these performances, as it was basically before actual Christ time when I was in college and before these times of cell phones. But just picture…blonde Betty Boop, in mis-fitting angel clothes, tripping over her sheep hook, buzzed on Mickey’s beer and talking like a Charlie Brown character. Listen. In my world that I was living in during that actual moment, I was BRINGing it.

And that was my big line. Luke 2:10-11.

Fast forward thirty years. Oof.

But I jest. Now BRING obviously has different meanings and comes from different places. I am now wearing different caps. In the Bible, it also has different meanings. To fetch, to lead, to gather or cause to come. Jesus invites us to participate. He doesn’t order us…we can R.S.V.P how we want. I certainty am feeling like replying yes a little more these days.

So what can I BRING to the table? I feel like I can bring faith. I can have faith in the world we are struggling though and my health issues and that my family will be okay. I can also BRING my perspective to others, pass the spark, move the torch, light a fire. He brings us the story. It’s up to us if we chose to listen.

Love you.

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Egads, DMV. You’re a Wreck!

Day 5:

Omg. That was an adventure.

Things effected by Covid that are ok, but still not quite right: movie theaters, music concerts, some shopping experiences and the freaking DMV. It’s never been a walk in the park, it’s always usually a total PITA, but now it’s kind of a mess.

We had two reasons to go to one of the Illinois Department of Motor Vehicles.

1.) New Driver’s License

Number 2 sadly, because, genetics…lost his wallet last week with his license, debit card, and some special un-needed but sentimental keepsakes. Some of those things include his Great America pass since he was nine, an old school ID, his social security card….YOWZA. Ok, that one was needed. Insert super big face palm. I feel like we need to report that or something.

And he also lost $100 in cash; hard-earned tips from the restaurant where he works. The day he lost it, he spent three stressed and upsetting hours retracing his steps, talking to all the management he could at the three places he went, searched his car multiple times, left his phone number everywhere. It’s gone. A bummer of a life lesson.

Sidenote: I just can’t relate with a human who would find a wallet in a parking lot and not try to do the right thing. It makes me so sad. I hope they get a flat tire, they ruin their favorite shirt in the laundry and a bird poops on their head.

2.) Driver’s Permit

Number three needed her drivers permit. She finished the class part weeks ago and was scared she was going to forget everything. Which I get. But dammmnnnn it’s hard to get an appointment. You have to wait weeks. It’s such a clogged drain that they have given people who have an expired license a six month extension. The best option for us with a busy schedule was just to suck it up and go.

The first time we tried to get her permit was a disaster. It was about three weeks ago. I had to take a half day off of work, which was hard in itself, and I was not having a good tummy day. I was trying my best to smile and be excited for her, but inside, it felt like there was a tiny, little angry person living in my intestines, repeatedly stabbing them with big fork.

A lot of my stomach issues are stress-related, so this wasn’t helping. I raced home from work and grabbed all the essential documents needed: social security card, a bill with her name on it, her driver’s school paperwork, a copy of her birth certificate. Let me repeat that, a COPY of her birth certificate. That’s what the school told me. A CO-PY. Or maybe they didn’t say that. Maybe it’s just…me. We all know it’s most probably just me.

The facility wasn’t close. We make the trek out to Schaumburg and got there at about 1:30pm. We pull in:

That scenario, for me in particular, was like an irritable bowel horror movie.

We waited in line and soon we were not the last people; we were giddy. She was so excited to get this…I was a little teary that I was already at this milestone with my baby. I had also already quietly made a plan that if I needed leave the line to run inside to the bathroom, I would do it very stealthily and with conviction. But so far, so good.

There was an older gentleman busker playing mediocre violin, but I was feeling jovial and supportive, so I gave #3 twenty bucks to go toss it in his guitar case. I told her to do it dramatically so everyone could see. I thought we would start a tip trend when everyone saw us do that. Crickets. Come on, humanity!

Finally, an hour and a half in; we were about 30 feet from the front door. An employee was checking people’s documents to prep everyone who was about to enter. I handed him everything, while I made what I thought were witty, funny and adorable side comments about our line wait. Number 3 nudged me a little, rolled her eyes almost out of her head and pretended that she didn’t know me. Then the man said, “I‘m sorry but this is a copy of her birth certificate. We need the real thing.”

What?” I said?

This is a copy of her birth certificate. Do you have an original with the stamp on it?” When he said that, I started to get a little dizzy, I couldn’t seem to find any air and his voice was warped like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Number 3 was shocked and looked at me like a just ran over a baby bunny.

I was horrified, She was horrified. But…I…you see…I ….was digging in a dark closet, trying to grab things out of our file cabinet…it’s looked like a birth certificate, it felt like a birth certificate, it smelled like a birth certificate…I was going to throw up. My sweet daughter. I’m not sure what embarrassed her more, the fact that we had to leave in front of everyone or the very obvious crying of her very distraught mother. What a SHIT. SHOW.

Pivot, heal, relax, re-group, re-charge.

Three weeks later, we tried again. I grabbed number 2 to kill two birds….This time we got up at 6am, headed out to Waukegan, whipped through Dunkin’ and pulled in…

OK, ok, ok, OK. It wasn’t that bad. The weather wasn’t horrible and we actually kind of had fun. In true Moran fashion, we made lots of new besties around us, with people we will absolutely never see again. Number 3 was so nervous for her test, so we pulled up an online practice test and she was asking me for all the correct answers. Dear Lord…the wrong parent took her. Number 2 wasn’t much help either…who can remember these little things?

We made it to the hot spot; the entrance door (past the scene of that last crime), so I felt victorious. You can’t see it because of the glare, but right in the doorway behind the glass, the security guy had this huge Uzi megaphone thingie and it was right near me when I was waiting there and it took every little strength in my body not to pick it up and yell “BREAKER BREAKER ONE_NINE!”

Number 3 said, “MOM, NO.” She knows me.

Inside, the employees were wonderful. Kind, helpful and sweet, we went through both processes painlessly. It’s not their fault that China created Covid and now we have long DMV lines. #2 and I had to go outside and wait for #3 to take her test and when she came out smiling, we knew she passed. Easy peasy.-ish. We were home by 10:00am!

And…this is the best.

“Yes, Sir, That’s My Baby…No Sir, I Don’t Mean Maybe!!”
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Say It Ain’t So, Rizzo.

Day four.

Ernie Banks.

Billy Buck.

Ivan DeJesus.

Andre Dawson.

Rick Sutcliffe.

Sammy Sosa. (Pre-cork)

Ryno.

Javy.

Bryant.

ANTHONY RIZZO.

The Chicago cubs organization just ripped the heart out of the Cubbies.

I grew up sitting in the 11th row behind the visitor’s dugout. Seats 5, 6, 7 and 8. It used to be the 10th row, but they added another row and we moved with it. My dad first got the tickets in 1971. Near the end, I could hardly get to a game because of kids and life. The last few years, my dad’s health prevented him from being able to maneuver through the crowds to get to the seats.

I remember entering the park as a girl, running behind him, looking up at the back of his head, reaching out to grab his shirt, while he masterfully serpentined between the crowds of people. He would turn back and smile his golden smile to me to make sure I was keeping up. We’d stop just for a quick second to get a scorecard and he’d get a beer (Later on, one for me too). We loved our seats. We had all the chances to move aisles closer to the field, but we loved being able to just jump over and fall into ours. Easy in, easy out. Perfect for raising a hand to buy a Home Run Hot Dogs and Budweisers.

In my early 20’s, while I was attending my fourth and last college, I rented an apartment on Broadway one block south of Addison. It was kind of a dump and it was next to The Jewel and that SUCKED during Christmas season because those damn Salvation Army bells would ring all the freaking time. But I was so close to Wrigley. My dad was a commodities trader at the Board of Trade and he was off work at 1:30pm. On game days, he would sneak out a bit early and hop in a cab. I would ride my bike, walk or rollerblade over to the park and meet him at The Cubby Bear. We bought the peanuts outside because they tasted better. He’d hand me my ticket and we’d start the mad dash. Even going to the games as an adult, I still felt the rush…I still always wanted to reach out and grab his shirt. Sitting there watching the game was our catch-up time, it was relaxing and it just felt like home.

Twinning with Sutcliffe.

Sometimes I would take the train in with my mom and we would go Cubbie nuts. My mom is still a die-heart fan, too. She was raised a Sox fan, but we don’t hold that against her. (So was my husband and his family is not happy.) We really had the best of times through the years. Our favorite thing to do after the game was to go to the Wild Hare and get our reggae on…so many laughs. Those were the party party days. We were always meeting new people and chatting up our “seat neighbors.” Some we knew for over 30 years. They saw us grow up. They saw us bring all of our babies there for the first time. They saw the last days of dad being there.

My kids were raised in the red, white and blue. They didn’t know anything else. They all went to the the park as babies and they all had their personal Cubbie adventures. Being a Cubs fan has been a big part of who they are today.

Every opening day, my brother and I would trade off going with Dad. Some days were filled with freezing rain, some were sunny and beautiful, but they were always perfect. The timeline of the day, the routine, the songs, the stretch, it was all so comforting like a bug warm hug. I will cherish those days forever.

Of course, I fell in love all the time. My first boyfriend was Billy Buckner. He was a dashing hero to me. My dad is the kinda guy who knew everyone and somehow he finagled us having an official “Donaldson Day” at Wrigley. We were able to go on the field, lay against the Ivy, see the locker rooms. I sat in the dugout on Ivan Dejesus’ lap. Hell yes, I did. Oh, and this happened.

My dad did this Randy Huntley fantasy baseball camp and it was pretty darn cool. He was able to play alongside Ryno, Durham, Jody Davis, Fergie, Lee Smith…It was a total dream come true for him and it was cool to watch. Years later, my brother did the same….

Years later, my brother did a cool thing for my dad. Let’s the face it. THE.COOLEST. THING. Jim Donaldson day.

As we got older and started our families, it was harder to see my brother and his family. He and his wife lived a block away from the park on Sheffield and could hear the crack of the bats through his open windows. Wow. He was able to still go to the games all the time and I know that was another dream for him fulfilled. It was always fun to go to the games with him and catch up….always a beautiful bonding experience with him at the park.

I did marry a sox fan, as I mentioned before, but I would like to formally thank the Cubs for helping me woo him. Wrigley with my family was a great way to get him to marry me. We have flirted there many times at the park over the years.

And oh my word, THE FOOD. If you go old school, there is nothing like a Home Run hot dog from a park vendor…mustard only. Second place for me is a dog from inside with grilled onions. Great link HERE for the park food. We loved going to the Club before the games, during a rain storm or when it was just too damn HOT.

The Club

The Friendly Confines have changed. First it was cool things like the statues…Captain Morgan expansion was interesting…they fancied up the bleachers…Gallagher Park was a cool addition. Then they started to replace the premiere seating. Finally, they were ready to upgrade our box. And they changed the ticket prices to obviously separate the wheat from the chaff. They tripled them. Insert middle finger here.

So now, where I grew up, there are a bunch of corporate people who are in town to drink $20 IPAs and don’t give a shit about the Cubbies. Stay classy, Rickett’s.

And…because they Yankees could afford it and the Rickett’s clearly need more money, we just lost our Golden Child. I’m grateful for the years we had him. He was a bright shiny light with a giving soul. He was not only a phenomenal player, but a funny, charming, philanthropic Chicago lover. Rizzo is cancer survivor, a hero to so many of us, a complete inspiration. He helped make IT happen. I am so grateful we had him for so long. I wish him and Emily the best.

BREAKING NEWS:

I just heard Javy traded to the Mets and Kimbrel to the freaking Sox.

I’m out. (Kicks a can, stomps off.)

MORE BREAKING NEWS:

(Runs back in….)

BRYANT TO THE GIANTS?

(Light can on fire, punches wall, stomps off. )

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