Flying solo - a day in the life

The Rev and Zane have gone on an extended trip to Missouri to visit friends and family, leaving yours truly to fend for myself (without a car). I started off the day by heading over to church to pick up our weekly share from our CSA. Drop-off is around 7:40 AM, and the buses don't run too frequently at that time of day on the weekends, so I had to leave the house around 6:45 to make it in time, even though it meant arriving 15 minutes early. Fortunately, a bus arrived a few minutes after I picked up the groceries, and I was able to make it back home fairly quickly.

Next I decided that our bicycle, which has barely seen the light of day in the past 5 years, needed to be cleaned up and put to use. Unfortunately, the tires were flat and we didn't have a bicycle pump. I figured I could pick one up at Home Depot (which is probably the closest hardware store to us if you're using the CTA), so I decided on a plan. I would go to Agent Orange (because it makes your green disappear) and buy a pump, then head to the Roscoe Village neighborhood where the annual "Retro on Roscoe" street festival was taking place, figuring I could have lunch and also find a bike shop (there aren't any in our neighborhood that I know of). Then I could head home, pump up the tires, and take the bike in to get tuned up and buy other necessities (helmet, lock, cable, spare tubes).

Well, it's always wise to have backup plans when public transport is involved, and when the southbound bus I wanted didn't show up for 10 minutes, I saw a bus heading westbound so I hopped on and went to Jefferson Park. As the bus was nearing the end of its route, I spied a bike shop on the left, so after I got off I walked over to check it out. It didn't open for another 30 minutes, so I walked to the library, checked e-mail and read for a while, then walked back to the shop.

The guy behind the counter (I believe it's the owner) doesn't win any points for congeniality, but he did help me find a combination pump set (one for home - a floor pump - and a portable one to mount to the bike) as well as some tubes and I headed back home on the bus. I was able to pump up the tires and ride back to the shop without incident. I left the bike for a tune-up and was promised it would be done by the late afternoon, which meant I had about four hours to kill.

So I decided to head to the Near West Side, which I've never been to before (that I remember). I knew that the original Al's #1 Italian Beef was in the 1000 block of West Taylor Street, but that's about it. I took the train through downtown (avoiding the crowds heading to Lollapalooza) and got off near Union Station, then walked south to Taylor Street and headed west.

As I walked down Taylor I saw the street blocked off with lots of fire engines and other equipment. Turns out it was the Chicago Fire Department's 150th anniversary celebration at the Robert J. Quinn Fire Academy. I stopped in and got a "junior firefighter" hat for Zane, but didn't stay around, although there was free food and other cool stuff, which in retrospect could have kept me fed and entertained until I was ready to head back. Incidentally, I learned in my readings at the library that the Fire Academy was built in the 1950s on the site of the former home of Patrick and Catherine O'Leary, where the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 started in a barn behind the house. (The O'Learys' cow was probably NOT responsible for starting the fire, by the way.)

I continued west through the campus of the University of Illinois at Chicago, had a Polish sausage at Al's, then headed north to catch the train back to Jefferson Park. I had more time to kill, so I went back to the library, then found a local coffee shop and got an iced coffee, then back to the bike shop, where I bought a lock and a helmet and biked home (but based on my experience and comments from others, I'll be looking for another bike shop next time). A good day of exercise. Maybe I'll hit Roscoe Village tomorrow - now I can bike there instead of navigate by train and bus.

The real point of no return

Here is proof positive that we must be serious about this city living thing:

As of 1:30 PM today, we are officially a one-car family.

After 5 years of great service, my other baby (Prizilla, the gentle green monster) is off to a new life in a far-off land and I am fully embracing life as a public transit consumer. (The Rev. will point out that I slept very poorly last night, mainly due to anxiety over selling "my" car.)

It was yet another testament to the power of craigslist. I placed my ad (at no cost) on two separate occasions -- classified postings are limited to 7 days in big metro areas -- and fielded a couple dozen inquiries. After enduring one extended test driver who never followed up to arrange an inspection, one no-show, one interested person who had to suddenly leave town to rescue his daughter (a likely story) and numerous virtual tire-kickers, I received a terse email asking for the car's VIN to run a check. I responded with the information and my phone number (I had received other similar requests) and figured that would be it.

The next day I got a phone call from a pleasant young woman asking me to meet her and her twin sister (they are both grad students, one in town and the other at a school in another state) at a local Toyota dealership to have the car inspected. One inspection and some brief haggling later, I signed over the title, handed over the keys, and left with a bag containing miscellaneous personal belongings. We closed the deal at a local bank where she arranged (at my request) for the funds to be wired directly to my bank account. It all went off without a hitch, and both parties should hopefully live happily ever after.

All hail the Internet. This young woman was on spring break, was planning to visit her sister in Chicago, and did an extended craigslist search looking for a new car (her previous vehicle was totaled in a winter driving accident) and found one that fit her needs. Even five years ago, this would never have happened. It's a great free market experiment.

Happy Casimir Pulaski Day!

It's not often those of us with Polish heritage (1/4 in my case) have cause to celebrate in the U.S. Usually the name "Polish" is in reference to sausage or any number of jokes calling into question the intelligence of my people.

But tomorrow, in the state of Illinois, is Casimir Pulaski Day. All public schools are closed, as are city and county government offices in Chicago.

Who was Casimir Pulaski? He was a Polish general of high birth who was recruited by the Marquis de LaFayette to fight with the Continental Army against the British in the American Revolution. Pulaski trained American soldiers in cavalry tactics and led several divisions in battle, gaining the title "Father of American Cavalry." He was wounded at the Battle of Savannah and died there from his wounds. The nearest major street to us is named in his honor. There is also a national Pulaski Day holiday celebrated in October and an annual parade in New York to commemorate the occasion.

Unfortunately for me, public accounting firms do not celebrate Pulaski Day, but I can at least eat a pierogi or something. Maybe I need some White Eagle underwear to show my support...

Small comfort

The new job starts Monday, so I decided to do a test commute today to make sure there wouldn't be any surprises next week. I have several different planned routes, but all of them involve some exposure to the elements, whether it's a walk to the El or a wait for the bus. I tried walking to the train station first, which took about 15 minutes at a pretty brisk pace.

The only trouble was it was 10 degrees with a -5 wind chill. Yeah. Time to break out the long johns, scarf, and chap stick.

Once I get downtown, it's not so bad, even though I have about a 10-minute walk from the El to my office. The reason is the Pedway, which is basically a human underground hamster trail that connects many of the buildings downtown.

If today wasn't cold enough, the wind chills night will be between -20 and -30; tomorrow the high will be in the single digits. The weather folks say this is 20 degrees below normal for this time of year. Well, THAT'S a relief.

Seriously though, I'm definitely a city person. If this is the worst it gets, I can handle that. I think the Rev. has it worse because during this time of year she'll basically be housebound with Zane until it warms up (on the plus side, she says she can get a lot of things done).

Zane's latest trick

No other comments necessary, I think.

Getting settled in

Move + 1 week, and we finally have phone and internet. Ahhhh. We're not close to being moved in yet, but there has been progress. I'm hanging additional shelves in the Rev.'s closet (her closet has the most space in the house but had the shortest shelf and bar installed) so by the end of the day we can probably break down the rest of the wardrobe boxes. Our goal for this weekend is to get our closets and bathroom done.

Yesterday we got a view of the deep underbelly of Chicago bureaucracy - we went to get new driver's licenses and new tags for the Rev.'s car (mine is for sale). What an experience. Getting the plates required two forms to be filled out and going through three separate lines. Part of the process is handled by the Departement of Revenue and part is handled by the Secretary of State. At least it was all in one building.

The driver's license process was longer and more annoying. First you have to check in to see what sort of services you require and you're issued a ticket with a letter and number, then you sit and wait until your number is called. The Rev. was called right away; I had to wait another 30 minutes to be called, even though my number was only one greater than hers. After that ordeal, we had to pay, which was another line.

Then we had to get in line to take a written test (even though we had licenses from another state). And I do mean written - paper test, desks, red pens (ONLY!) for making your answers, scowling proctors, the whole nine yards (we had the option to take the test in Polish or Spanish, but we declined). After taking the test, we had to get back in the test line to have the test graded, by hand. We actually got in trouble for talking in line while waiting for our grades. After getting our grades, we got in another line, that as far as I can tell had no purpose other than to get us to the final line where our pictures were taken. The whole ordeal took about 1 1/2 hours. The boy behaved admirably the whole time.

And after all that, we had to go to another office to buy a Chicago vehicle sticker (a privilege of living in the city). Unlike the license bureau, they didn't take out of state checks, but took all credit cards.

There are still little irritations with the condo here and there. ComEd hung a sign on the front gate yesterday threatening to cut off the power next month because the electrical contractor didn't make the appropriate sacred incantations. Of course the developer claimed there was no problem and would get right on it. Meanwhile, we're still waiting for punchlist items to be completed.

Well, back to work.