Before my fiance and I moved into our house, we took a trip to the hardware store to pick up a few of the tools that every homeowner needs. First on our list was a relatively cheap, but absolutely necessary, snow shovel. We knew the days of rolling out of bed on snowy mornings and knowing the sidewalk had been cleared by the building manager were numbered. But what we didn’t count on was the sheer level of exhaustion brought on by constant shoveling. It’s been years since I’ve had to remove snow and, apparently, I’m not quite as up to the task as I used to be. That’s why I’m determined to save up for a snowblower, regardless of the cost.
Archive for the ‘Edge City’ Category
In less than three months, I will go from being a single, 29-year-old man with a lease on an apartment to being a married, 30-year-old man with a mortgage on a house. That’s a lot of change to process at once, but despite the inevitable stress, I don’t feel like I’m turning my life inside out. Instead, I feel like I’m creating a dynamic new life for myself, building on the best on my experiences to date. Would it be easier to leave things the way they are? Maybe, but it would also be boring and static and, given the tendency for change in the world, not really an option anyway.
Part of planning a wedding (even a low-key one like mine) is choosing a playlist for the reception. My fiance and I have reserved the second floor of a restaurant for five hours and, seeing as how we don’t want to repeat songs, will need to choose approximately 100 tracks to fill the time. Naturally, our tastes overlap and we’ve chosen a lot of the same tunes. But this is a minor obstacle compared to the fact that most great love songs don’t have the happiest of lyrics and are therefore not appropriate for a wedding reception.
Once a year, Chicago shuts down one of its major expressways, Lake Shore Drive, and allows bicyclists to pedal up and down the 30-mile stretch of windswept pavement. I’ve made the trip a few times, and while it’s a bit of a workout, it’s not anything that I would describe as arduous. In fact, the route is filled with casual riders, elderly folks and very young children, none of whom seem to be exerting themselves too terribly. So it will be a sad thing indeed if the seemingly healthy middle-aged man in this strip psyches himself out and fails to cross the finish line on his 25-mile, two-wheel trek.
I spent the afternoon volunteering at the Greater Chicago Food Depository – a massive warehouse that supplies some 600 shelters and food pantries throughout Cook County – and was naturally disappointed to see today’s Edge City when I came home. While I understand the finer point that doing good is not always painless, I’m struggling to come to terms with the depiction of hungry retirees as insufferable cranks. Earlier this week, the boy in this strip was fighting tooth and nail to avoid volunteering. Is this strip supposed to validate his reluctance to reach out to those in need?
Although I still ride my bicycle on occasion, it’s been about a year since I’ve pedaled to work. At first it was the chilly autumn temperatures that kept me from taking the two-wheeled route. Then it was a period of unemployment that left me with no office at which to arrive. Finally, it is the fact that my current job calls for business attire, which would undoubtedly be sullied by prolonged exposure to the elements. The fact that it’s been so long makes me wonder if I could endure the 45-minute trip without getting winded.
It’s been years since I’ve watched a local television newscast, mostly because they all follow the same, predictable formula. Open with sex, violence, scandal, or an empty statement from a high-ranking public official. Then move on quickly to celebrity news, health news, weather, and sports. Close with a feel-good community story, preferably one that involves children or animals. I appreciated today’s Edge City because the toilet comment is precisely the type of thing you’d never hear on a local newscast. I wish that weren’t the case, but such is the sad state of affairs in the press.