Other Cultural Events Of Last Week

On Wednesday, even though I had all this X-ray thing, I was on time for Kinki Boots in the James Nederlander Theater.

This was “as expected.” Very well staged, great music and voices. My neighbor said that that’s what she needed at that moment, amid all the nrgativities. I think I would enjoy it more if I weren’t constantly checking my phone for the X-ray reading results (which I actually received in the middle of the evening), and if I weren’t trying to figure out when I could pick up my prescription.

On Thursday, I went to the Members’ Third Thursday at the Art Institute. This is a new thing that started recently: the Members’ Bar is closed to everyone except those who purchased tickets. There is live music, a drink ticket, and light bites available for purchase. I thought it would be a nice, relaxing thing to do, but somehow it didn’t click with me. I checked it, and I probably would never do it again. The only positive thing was that I now know the Bar is inaccessible on the third Thursday of the month.

And finally, I went to the Haymarket Opera to David et Jonathas. I liked the first time I saw a performance by the Haymarket Opera, and was looking for another opportunity. I like this one significantly less than the previous one, and I do not think it was because of the concert version. Can’t really put a finger on it. I liked the music, the conductor, and the voices. I liked how the performance was positioned as “very timely for both Pride Month and Father’s Day.” Maybe it was just a rainy day 🙂

The Night Ministry “On the Frontlines” Series – 1

Shelter/Homelessness/Other Things That Are Wrong

This will be a long one, and I will start with my recent visit to the ODS.

When I was there last time, someone who shopped for dinner ingredients bought a jar of spread instead of real butter, and the moment I learned about it, I realized that Chicken Alfredo wouldn’t turn out as it should. Another, and more serious thing, was that when I came, all the residents were gone, since it was one of the first nice days! I do not think that was planned; it’s just that J., who had been my kitchen helper for many months, was gone, and she was the one who had asked for Chicken Alfredo. I knew that if she were still around, she would’ve stayed to wait for me, probably with a couple of her friends.

I left the dinner for the staff (they said that when the kids are back, they’ll eat everything), and, for the hundredth time, thought about whether it is worth coming so irregularly. Then N., a staff member who really cares about me, texted me asking when I was coming next time.

This next time was last Tuesday. Several days earlier, I asked her if she would mind asking the residents what they wanted, but I already knew that she wanted my baked salmon, and I knew I would end up making it. I also promised I would bring a Finnish berry pie (I promised to bake it there in May, but since there was nobody and no butter, I didn’t.)

Then, on Tuesday morning, I fell off the bike and hurt my hand. There was absolutely no way for me to cancel, but I texted N. and told her I would need help cutting and peeling potatoes. When I arrived, another volunteer had organized two kids to peel potatoes and actually taught them how to do it right (it was day one of my injury, and I couldn’t even demonstrate the techniques). With that, it could be an amazing experience, because the kids actually figured that out, and three people ended up peeling enough potatoes (just a little bit less than I would do if I weren’t incapacitated). Unfortunately, it was almost for nothing, because there was not a single drop of milk in either the kitchen fridge or the big storage fridge, and I only found it out when all the potatoes were cooked and mashed. It didn’t even occur to me to check, because milk was on the shopping list, and because we made mashed potatoes so many times that it was not even a question that someone wouldn’t know. Besides, milk has always been in the kitchen fridge, just because it has to be.

One of the staff members said they would go to the nearest Jewel-Osco to get some milk. It would be great if I could figure out the absence of milk right away, but … unfortunately, that was not the only problem. Instead of our usual half-fish “never frozen” salmon from ALDI, there was a large bag of frozen portions. When I opened the bag, I saw that they were indeed frozen and that individual pieces were of very different quality. I tried my best to make something with what I had, but when we took the salmon out of the oven, it was absolutely not what we expected. Well, it was edible, and that’s all I can say. The trip to Jewel Osco took 30 minutes, and I was even able to reheat mashed potatoes with milk, but once again, there was spread instead of butter.

I didn’t even announce that the dinner was ready because the results were miserable. I left my berry pie for everyone to eat, and went home. N. texted me several times the next day asking about my hand, so I gave her the full report, but I also knew it was not just about my hand. I knew she felt bad about the mix-up and was afraid I wouldn’t come again. I could have said that the ODS staff should have paid more attention to the shopping list, and I probably could even feel hurt, if not for one thing.

The thing was, while N and I were texting that morning, she accidentally replied to me with something she meant for someone else, and because of that, I knew there were some problems at the ODS that day. When I arrived, I still could tell that “something was going on.” All the staff waved off my concerns, but I could tell that dinner was definitely not their top priority that day. And that day was not an exception.

The ODS staff solved bigger problems every day, with more and more uncertainties coming up every day. And in general, homelessness in Chicago rises at an alarming rate, with fewer people trying to solve it.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a man hiding in our recycling bin (he made an effort to hide when he saw me approaching, and I pretended I didn’t see him). Afterward, however, I saw him, and it was visible that he had just gotten out of the dumpster by the way he was brushing himself. His shoes were bright red and very memorable, which is why I noticed him around Jarvis Square several times. Then, I saw him sleeping under the overpass on one of my early morning bike rides (once again, because I noticed these shoes sticking out of the black cover). That was one of those moments when you feel incredibly guilty for having any problems at all, or worrying about anything at all, while one of your neighbors has no place to sleep. I thought that the next time I saw him, I would ask if I could help him in any way (he was not asking passersby for change), but I stopped seeing him immediately after that.

There are more and more homeless people around. The encampments along the lake are growing. At the same time, I see many businesses taking measures to keep the homeless away. Not only businesses, for that matter. For example, the so-often-mentioned lack of public restrooms is also rooted in the same issues. Recently, I stepped into the Target on State, which used to be one of the guaranteed places with public restrooms. I saw they were doing major remodeling, and when I walked to the bathrooms, I noticed the access code panel had been freshly installed. And do not take me wrong, I understand that the number of homeless people using these bathrooms for pretty much anything was alarming, and I understand that Target must have heard numerous customers’ complaints. I understand why so many people want “all this mess” to be out of sight – out of mind, but the problem does not disappear because of all these measures. I saw people sleeping on Michigan Avenue. I saw people sleeping in the grass, not even in the tents, along the lakefront. It does not look pretty. But how it looks is not the root cause of the problem.

Biking/Falls/Potholes

On June 2, right before the conference started, I fell off the bike for seemingly no reason. It was very close to home. I was returning from my morning ride, and I was just a couple of blocks away from home when all of a sudden my bike jumped, the front wheel took a sharp turn right, and I fell off really badly, breaking half of my nails and getting a bruise and a scratch on my temple; fortunately, small enough not to be seen unless someone would seat very close to me on my right side. I was telling everyone it was a perfect fall because I still looked presentable, even though I didn’t like how badly I’d been hurt. The scratch healed, and the nails were repaired, but unfortunately, that was not it.

Several times afterward, I felt my bike jump at approximately the same spot, and I still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the road there. Then, last Tuesday, it happened again – I fell really badly at the same spot. Once again, I could not figure out why – I didn’t see anything dangerous on the road. Once again, the helmet protected my head; however, I landed on my right hand knuckles, and the hand quickly became swollen and painful.

Still, there was nothing for me to do except go to work, because it was too early to get to any doctor’s office, and I still could move my fingers and type. And I had six meetings on that day :). I had high-dose ibuprofen tablets in my bag (I always have them since the times my back pain could appear out of nowhere), so I took one in the morning and one in the evening, and that reduced the inflammation a bit, but it was still painful, and I could not lift anything with my right hand, and couldn’t even open the door, which made my life in the office quite challenging (not like it would be better at home). In the morning, the hand was neither worse nor better. Since my workday starts way earlier than the doctor’s workday, I decided to go to the office and start calling from there. The doctor’s office picked up the phone at 8:15. They said my doctor was not in the office (which I already knew) and that there was nobody to see me that day at the Evanston office, so they suggested going to the Lincolnwood office. I had no other choice because I didn’t want to drag out the uncertainty any longer (and I also suspected that my children would give me a hard time if I didn’t go). After my morning meetings, I got into Uber and went to Lincolnwood. A nurse practitioner saw me and said that “just in case,” I should do an X-ray. Guess what? This facility doesn’t have. X-ray, so they were sending me back to Evanston! I called to check the hours; they were open, and I didn’t need an appointment.

One more Uber ride. Two reception desks. One line after, just to be checked in. Then I finally walked to the lab, which had zero people in line, and got my X-ray done. But if you think that was it, it was not. I was told that a radiologist would take a look “later on that day.” Good thing it was actually “that day,” not in the middle of the night! Turned out, I didn’t have a fracture after all.

You can say all well that ends well, but this whole ordeal cost me three hours of life and $100 total Uber fees, and I still don’t understand why I had to go to Lincolwood to get an “OK” for X-ray!!!

Also, I counted the number of healthcare workers with whom I interacted on this day, including receptionists and information desks – ten!

Pride Nails

As I already mentioned on Instagram, that’s the only time in the year when a grandma like me would get compliments from the hottest boys in town: I love your nails! The most handsome boys with the longest lashes you have ever seen :).

But here is more. What I love more than these compliments is how these boys hold each other’s hands tightly, walking up Michigan Avenue. When I see this stretched hand, and another hand catching it and holding, I want to cry. I want to take a picture of these holding hands.

And I think about the 16-year-old Vlad: Why do they look at us like this when we walk holding hands?! Why can’t we walk like others?!

I am glad they can. And I am glad that no Trump can do anything with it.

(a green drop is pistachio gelato, and I am not going to photoshop it)

The Weekend Cultural Activities

A part of me catching up with life was attending four shows in three days, each of them initially planned to attend with different people

Friday evening was a Matchmaker at the Above the Law theater. I went with my mom because so far, that has been one of the few places that she liked, and that was so close to her home. I am unsure what she was unhappy with this time. I suspect that that’s because it was “too late,” although I do not know what she expected. She stayed silent all the time during the show and on our way home, and didn’t talk about it the next day.

I loved it! Absolutely amazing acting! My first impression was that they changed the plot significantly, but then I reread the original script and realized that it mostly remained untouched.

The acting was impeccable (as always), so it was an enjoyable evening regardless.

On Saturday, I had two events at the Joffrey Ballet, and since the Red Line still has the weekend closures, I spent a lot of time commuting 🙂 The first one was a subscriber appreciation event in the morning: a light brunch and an open rehearsal. I had attended one of these events previously, so this time, the reason to attend was to take my friend Y. with me. I didn’t have a chance to see her for several months, and asked for her understanding; she was patiently waiting. The first time I had the opportunity to take her out was that one; it was her first time, and she really enjoyed it (although I suspect she enjoyed seeing me the most :)). Unfortunately, she had to leave earlier because she misread my message about the event duration, but she loved what she saw.

Continue reading “The Weekend Cultural Activities”

***

Boris’s birthday was last Friday. Several years ago, he discovered that he and Helsinki share the same birthday, and since then, he refuses to be anywhere but Helsinki on that day. He had sent me several pictures, including those from the reception at City Hall. The Mayor’s office announced that the first 1,000 visitors will receive a piece of rhubarb pie and coffee. Boris was there at the reception start time, and he said that he hadn’t seen anybody left without it 🙂

But that’s not about the rhubarb pie. What I wanted to say is that I can’t even remotely express how thankful I am for everything Boris has done over these two and a half weeks. We had close to none one-on-one time, and almost until the very last day, all our one-on-one time was doing “one more thing” for the conference.

Boris made the room host kits (one of a million things which we had to do since we were running independently this year). He helped to finalize the badges format, and after multiple unsuccessful attempts, he set up printing at home, so that we could print the “last-minutes” and a whole bunch of blank badges. He came up with the volunteer sign-up design, for which I absolutely didn’t have extra mental cycles. Most importantly, he was just there for me. Listening. Hugging. Saying “we are on a roll” and “looks like it is happening.”

I am so fortunate that “we have it all.” So grateful that I never had to choose. So grateful that the most important person in my life knows that “work-life balance doesn’t exist.”

***

I am in the after-stage of the “post-conference syndrome”: I feel simultaneously that “nothing like this will ever happen again” and “who told you it was good?” I am afraid that people just do not have the heart to tell me that it was “not so good.” I hope that this shall pass 🙂

The View

This week was a return “back to normal”, which was so intense that it was probably the “high end” normal. On Thursday, I was debating between two options: to attend the Open House for the Metropolitan Family (where I resigned from the community board a year ago) or to attend the ACM-hosted AI presentation at the Metropolitan Club.

I felt guilty about ignoring both groups, and was trying to measure my guilt. Finally, I decided that I would donate to the Metropolitan Family, and I will go to the ACM thing. They promised cocktails and light bites and DJ before the presentation, and I thought that’s something I deserve after several intense weeks. Also, I knew that our president would appreciate one more person from the board.

It ended up being a mistake, and the only good thing was the view (I never been to the Metropolitan club before, and it is locate on the 67 th floor of Sear’s Tower)

All the rest was mediocre at the most. And to be completely honest, I was so tired, that the best thing for me would be to go home right after work!

After The Storm

A bike ride on Thursday morning, after the tornado had nearly passed Rogers Park

Opening Of The Grant Park Music Festival Season

Chicago was under a tornado watch for two days, but surprisingly, the opening of the GMF season was not canceled. My neighbor and I were unsure until the very last moment, but at that very last moment, the storm was over, the rain stopped, and the Pritzker Pavilion was open for the concert attendees!

Giancarlo Guerrero is an outstanding conductor. I first heard him conduct Shostakovich, and his interpretation was so beyond conventional that I inadvertently fell into his style. He is bold, both in music and in words, and this concert was no exception. I am extremely saddened that this year, the year of America’s 250th birthday, the day I was anticipating for so many years and looking forward to celebrating with my children and grandchildren, is completely ruind by the person in the White House; that’s why I chose to be out of the country on this day, and that’s why I am hesitant to participate in any celebratory actions and activities. But Guerrero made all of us feel like that’s our party, and we, the people, are here to stand for our values and for our freedoms. It was so inspiring to watch him conduct the National Anthem and accenting “the land of the free.” Unforgettable,