Animated but true.

A mess of brick and mortar.

Off The Street Club event today.

Hey all. I just wanted to take an opportunity to let you know about event we’re putting on today outside the Tribune building from 6AM to 3. Maybe I’m feeling all self-righteous because this is the first time I’ve ever been involved in a good cause, or MAYBE I just want you come out and donate $10. Either way, here’s what Lewis Lazare has to say. Hope to see you there.

“Euro RSCG/Chicago is hosting the annual Off the Street Club holiday luncheon later this year, but the agency is expanding on that project with other efforts to raise funds for Chicago’s oldest club for boys and girls. One such event is slated for Friday, Sept. 25, when Euro and the Off the Street Club will set up a number of life-sized cut-outs of kids in Pioneer Court, near the North Michigan Avenue Bridge. The hope is that the cut-outs will draw attention to the kids the club is in business to help and encourage passers-by to make a contribution of at least $10 to the cause on the spot. Euro and the Off the Street Club are emphasizing that every little bit helps. For instance, $10 will buy a healthy snack for kids in the small-fry program, while $25 will help provide supplies for the club’s music program. Euro RSCG’s overarching theme for its Off the Street Club project this year is “Off the Street and On To So Much More.”

And here’s the official poster:

The changing of things.

When I was a kid, my dream car was a ‘69 Camaro SS. Many of my friends, obsessed with European sport’s cars like Lamborghinis and Ferraris, made fun of me and called me white trash. But I stuck to my convictions and wound up driving a ‘68 Impala all through high school and college. About twice as long the Camaro I’d always lusted for, my Impala was at least in the same league. I highly doubt any of those little jerks with their walls covered in Countashes and F40s ever drove anything close.

But I was out in the neighborhood yesterday with Jez and overheard something I could hardly believe. Three boys, around the age of 10, ran across the street in a big hoard. They had their eyes on something, but I couldn’t figure it out.

Then one yelled over to his buddy, “Hey, is that the new Prius?”

“Yeah,” the other kid confirmed.

“Cool.”

I was pretty shocked. I never would’ve thought an eco-friendly, four-door sedan with no style whatsoever would look “cool” to a preteen kid. Of course, as much fun as I had with my old car, I’m pretty sure all the fuel burnt feeding the Impala’s 327 probably could’ve been put to better use. But at least I have my memories. The old days when the only Green Movement that mattered was the Curtis Green movement and my big hooptie attracted stares, not glares and dirty looks.

Es pot.

I made my way down the sidewalk early Saturday morning on a mission for cherry tomatoes at the Farmer’s Market. The air was thick with humidity. I passed a tired looking woman and flashed her a faint smile. She left behind a cloud of smoke that lingered for a moment.

A few seconds later, a man appeared from around the corner. He was healthy and rested. His pace was fast and his eyes were wide. He looked at me as if he had something important on his mind.

“She’s es smok-eng pot,” he declared.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” I replied, trying to gauge his take on the situation.

“YES!” he agreed, as we both went our separate directions.

Good work for a good cause.

Hey everyone. I try to keep my job away from this mess of thoughts, but felt our new site for Chicago’s Off The Street Club might interest some of you out there. Not only was I fortunate enough to work on some of the copy, but I got to witness all the pieces coming together—from sketches on paper to full execution.

The tide.

My dad got a cell phone. The best music store on earth is moving down the street from their original location. Welcoming students back to public school is just another part of Obama’s Socialist agenda. One of the most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen in HD was also black and white. I paid for my first iTunes app today.

Oprah took over Michigan Avenue here in Chicago and lots of people complained.

Millions of people took out home loans they couldn’t afford and they complained.

I didn’t have much to write about, so I complained.

Catalina coffin.

Back when I was a teenager, I used to say that I wanted to be buried in my beloved car, but Lonnie Holloway actually did it. I just wonder how many people in the family were pissed off that he didn’t leave the Pontiac to them.

The ‘68 Impala that I loved so much.

Perfect fit.

Cristi’s Schwinn has a basket. But since she never rides it, I think it’s about to become my going-to-the-beer-store bike. Living the High Life. For sure.

Cool type.

I was listening to records last night when I realized I’d never actually pulled the paper jacket out of my copy of Elvis’ How Great Thou Art album. I love it when stuff you’ve had for years surprises you.