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Thursday, September 28, 2017
Sit, Stand, Kneel
I'll keep this short and sweet: any NFL player that prefers to kneel in protest shouldn't have to explain why they're kneeling. We have a president that is doing far more to divide than unite, race relations in the U.S. are at a nadir I haven't seen in my lifetime, and police brutality is still going unresolved in most metropolitan areas. The idea of locking arms in solidarity feels like a cop-out and an unnecessary point of compromise.
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Wednesday, September 27, 2017
A Second Confessional
About four years ago, I discussed how I all but sabotaged my friendship with "Sandra," whom I met in high school. Even though we kept a distance, we remained Facebook friends. Since I first wrote about her over four years ago, she had a daughter and got married (in that order). I not only avoided interacting with her, but also her social circle, which I found problematic.
Less than a year after that post, Sandra gave birth to her daughter, then married the father of the child; the nuptials were postponed until after she had the baby. The Friday before the wedding, she posted something on Facebook about a get-together at a restaurant in Logan Square. I messaged her to ask if I would be welcome; the message was time-stamped (which means she saw it) but she didn't reply. I assumed that the freeze-out was still on, and I stayed home that night.
In early 2016, Sandra invited me to her 30th birthday party. It was the first time she had reached out to me in any way, shape or form in nearly five years. I appreciated the invite, but obviously I had a lot of trepidation; on top of that, I already had plans out of town that weekend. I sent her an email sending my regrets and concerns; to my astonishment, she replied to clarify that I was definitely welcome. I responded by asking if we could meet one on one and finally talk things out, but she said her itinerary for her Chicago trip was already full.
No leeway was made --and contact remained minimal-- until this past June. Sandra was coming back to town, and sent out an invite for a group dinner. I still would have preferred meeting one on one, but I accepted the invite anyway. Around this time, Sandra teased some big news on Facebook, and was supposed to be an imminent announcement took several weeks. The trepidation returned, and my anxiety grew as the date of the get-together neared. When I drove to the restaurant, I found a spot at the bar and polished off a beer to calm my nerves.
Sandra arrived with Kori, a mutual longtime friend. I had known Kori since grade school, but hadn't seen her since 2011 or so. I vaguely recalled that Kori had unfriended me on Facebook; we had talking things out, she readded me, then disappeared from FB altogether shortly after that. She had always been cagey and a little hard to read, so part of me wondered if I had been blocked.
Sandra's major announcement was that her young family was moving from San Diego to Columbus, OH. I thanked her for clarifying, and that ended up being the last interaction we had for nearly an hour. I attempted to catch up with Kori, partially to impose some goodwill but also to feel at ease. The conversation tapped out after about five minutes, and after struggling to latch onto another conversation at the table, I spent most of the evening eating fish tacos in relative silence. (The fact that the tacos were outstanding almost feels like an afterthought.) After getting some ice cream, Kori drove a drunk Sandra back to her hotel.
I left Oak Park feeling annoyed. I figured that Sandra was tired, and she would touch base in a day or two, but it never happened. Later in the week, I shared a picture of my dog (a onetime obsession of hers) but it didn't elicit a response. Against my better judgment, I let the events of the night circle around my head; I was baffled that Sandra would invite me out for dinner, but barely start a conversation. Was it circumstance or more passive-aggression?
Perhaps against better judgment, six weeks later I wrote Sandra another long email. I mentioned how disappointed I was that we barely spoke, and that I was open to talking by phone or Skype. I didn't get a reply, so two weeks after that I messaged her on Facebook. After waiting awhile after that, I made an unpleasant discovery: I had been "half-blocked." We were still FB friends, but I couldn't see anything on her profile besides her basic info. What I feared would happen years ago finally did.
If this is the end, I accept those terms. In my subconscious, the nightmare from eight years ago still engulfs me. Sandra attempted to reconnect, and still couldn't make a conscious effort. I feel tempted send one more email, partially to apologize for overreacting and also because I have nothing to lose. Maybe in a few months, but definitely not now.
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Less than a year after that post, Sandra gave birth to her daughter, then married the father of the child; the nuptials were postponed until after she had the baby. The Friday before the wedding, she posted something on Facebook about a get-together at a restaurant in Logan Square. I messaged her to ask if I would be welcome; the message was time-stamped (which means she saw it) but she didn't reply. I assumed that the freeze-out was still on, and I stayed home that night.
In early 2016, Sandra invited me to her 30th birthday party. It was the first time she had reached out to me in any way, shape or form in nearly five years. I appreciated the invite, but obviously I had a lot of trepidation; on top of that, I already had plans out of town that weekend. I sent her an email sending my regrets and concerns; to my astonishment, she replied to clarify that I was definitely welcome. I responded by asking if we could meet one on one and finally talk things out, but she said her itinerary for her Chicago trip was already full.
No leeway was made --and contact remained minimal-- until this past June. Sandra was coming back to town, and sent out an invite for a group dinner. I still would have preferred meeting one on one, but I accepted the invite anyway. Around this time, Sandra teased some big news on Facebook, and was supposed to be an imminent announcement took several weeks. The trepidation returned, and my anxiety grew as the date of the get-together neared. When I drove to the restaurant, I found a spot at the bar and polished off a beer to calm my nerves.
Sandra arrived with Kori, a mutual longtime friend. I had known Kori since grade school, but hadn't seen her since 2011 or so. I vaguely recalled that Kori had unfriended me on Facebook; we had talking things out, she readded me, then disappeared from FB altogether shortly after that. She had always been cagey and a little hard to read, so part of me wondered if I had been blocked.
Sandra's major announcement was that her young family was moving from San Diego to Columbus, OH. I thanked her for clarifying, and that ended up being the last interaction we had for nearly an hour. I attempted to catch up with Kori, partially to impose some goodwill but also to feel at ease. The conversation tapped out after about five minutes, and after struggling to latch onto another conversation at the table, I spent most of the evening eating fish tacos in relative silence. (The fact that the tacos were outstanding almost feels like an afterthought.) After getting some ice cream, Kori drove a drunk Sandra back to her hotel.
I left Oak Park feeling annoyed. I figured that Sandra was tired, and she would touch base in a day or two, but it never happened. Later in the week, I shared a picture of my dog (a onetime obsession of hers) but it didn't elicit a response. Against my better judgment, I let the events of the night circle around my head; I was baffled that Sandra would invite me out for dinner, but barely start a conversation. Was it circumstance or more passive-aggression?
Perhaps against better judgment, six weeks later I wrote Sandra another long email. I mentioned how disappointed I was that we barely spoke, and that I was open to talking by phone or Skype. I didn't get a reply, so two weeks after that I messaged her on Facebook. After waiting awhile after that, I made an unpleasant discovery: I had been "half-blocked." We were still FB friends, but I couldn't see anything on her profile besides her basic info. What I feared would happen years ago finally did.
If this is the end, I accept those terms. In my subconscious, the nightmare from eight years ago still engulfs me. Sandra attempted to reconnect, and still couldn't make a conscious effort. I feel tempted send one more email, partially to apologize for overreacting and also because I have nothing to lose. Maybe in a few months, but definitely not now.
(564)
Saturday, September 9, 2017
Random Notes, September 2017
So much to say, so little time:
+ It took a hurricane or two to finally get the Trump controversies off the front page. For better or worse, its a diversion; Hurricane Harvey was an astonishing tragedy, one of larger scope than Katrina but better managed, and the aftermath might linger on for a decade. Hurricane Irma, hammering Florida as I write this, could be just as bad. President Trump is probably grateful to not be hounded by the Russian collusion controversy (among other things) at least for a moment.
+ I'm going to be somewhat disappointed if this is the end of the Moose/Hos/Alcides/Lo-Cain era in Kansas City. All four are pending free agents, and any attempt at making one last playoff push with this core group has sputtered. My Royals are playing .500 ball when we should be right in the thick of things. On one hand, we've set a team record for home runs in a season where MLB overall has seen an uptick in power stats; on the other hand, our pitching has been pedestrian. We'll be okay in the long run, but I don't want to wait 28 years for another title run.
+ While I'm glad the summer is over, the stress continues. I'm back to working as a substitute teacher after spending 2 1/2 months mostly at home, so I'm relieved that I don't have to dip into inheritance and rainy-day money much longer. I also have a temp position lined up that, if all goes to plan, will keep me steadily employed for about three months. On the other hand, I'm the executor of my mother's estate and I'm still wading through paperwork. My aspiration is to finally move out of my parents' house by November 1st, but money is still an X-factor.
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+ It took a hurricane or two to finally get the Trump controversies off the front page. For better or worse, its a diversion; Hurricane Harvey was an astonishing tragedy, one of larger scope than Katrina but better managed, and the aftermath might linger on for a decade. Hurricane Irma, hammering Florida as I write this, could be just as bad. President Trump is probably grateful to not be hounded by the Russian collusion controversy (among other things) at least for a moment.
+ I'm going to be somewhat disappointed if this is the end of the Moose/Hos/Alcides/Lo-Cain era in Kansas City. All four are pending free agents, and any attempt at making one last playoff push with this core group has sputtered. My Royals are playing .500 ball when we should be right in the thick of things. On one hand, we've set a team record for home runs in a season where MLB overall has seen an uptick in power stats; on the other hand, our pitching has been pedestrian. We'll be okay in the long run, but I don't want to wait 28 years for another title run.
+ While I'm glad the summer is over, the stress continues. I'm back to working as a substitute teacher after spending 2 1/2 months mostly at home, so I'm relieved that I don't have to dip into inheritance and rainy-day money much longer. I also have a temp position lined up that, if all goes to plan, will keep me steadily employed for about three months. On the other hand, I'm the executor of my mother's estate and I'm still wading through paperwork. My aspiration is to finally move out of my parents' house by November 1st, but money is still an X-factor.
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Thursday, August 31, 2017
32 Teams, 32 Haiku: My 2017 NFL Preview
It doesn't seem like the NFL season is right around the corner. Its been a tumultuous summer, and perhaps some of us aren't ready yet for the first kickoff. Nevertheless, the defending Super Bowl champion Patriots (and Tom Brady, probably in his final season) start the year against Kansas City on September 7th. Controversies still swirl around Colin Kaepernick and Zeke Elliott, and I can think of six or seven teams that are going to be horrendous this year (including my Beloveds). Let me break it down for you, 17 soma at a time:
AFC NORTH
1. Steelers. (13-3) Young D impresses/O firepower maintained/Pats’ only real foe.
2. Ravens. (8-8) Good but complacent/ground attack needs improvement/for real playoff talk.
3. Bengals. (6-10) Lewis on the hot/seat; another step backwards/could mean the heave-ho.
4. Browns. (3-13) Last year? Rock bottom/nowhere to go but up, if/you don’t mind kneeling.
AFC EAST
1. Patriots. (13-3) Of course them again/even without Edelman/the machine rolls on.
2. Dolphins*. (9-7) Cutler, short term fix/receivers alone make this/a playoff sleeper.
3. Bills. (5-11) Still meandering/Tyrod is overrated/rebuilding looms near.
4. Jets. (2-14) Gang Green, no blood flow/abysmal offense puts the/”hack” in “Hackenberg.”
AFC SOUTH
1. Titans. (10-6) Young and ready now/Mariota will dazzle/if he stays healthy.
2. Texans. (8-8) So many “De-” names/but QB play will hinder/and exhaust real D.
3. Colts. (7-9) No O-line? Good Luck/(or good grief); lack of support/after overhaul.
4. Jaguars. (3-13) Free agency whiz/fails to generate results/or score any points.
AFC WEST
1. Raiders. (11-5) Vegas move lingers/Carr and Beast Quake fireworks/distract from ill will.
2. Broncos*. (10-6) Without a QB/Geep Chryst’s name, taken in vain/D, though? Dominant.
3. Chiefs. (9-7) Red and yellow blues/same suspect O carried by/sturdy D. Ho-hum.
4. Chargers. (7-9) Welcome to LA/new scenery but same Bolts/I’m not seeing stars.
NFC NORTH
1. Packers. (11-5) Oh god, them again/near elite but annoying/Rodgers’ neighborhood.
2. Lions. (9-7) Good team with bad coach/a healthy Ameer helps, but/please no Hail Marys.
3. Vikings. (6-10) Skill positions on/O don’t impress; no flukes like/last year, just boring.
4. Bears. (5-11) This is rebuilding/quarterback situation/might prove distracting.
NFC EAST
1. Cowboys. (10-6) Dak needs new attack/until Zeke returns; still quite/steady all around.
2. Giants*. (9-7) Expensive defense/overshadows old Eli/and Beckham drama.
3. Redskins. (7-9) Beltway bedlam; a/dysfunctional family/with pissed-off Cousins.
4. Eagles. (6-10) Wentz’ growing pains/numbed by Alshon’s comeback, but/they’re still rebuilding.
NFC SOUTH
1. Falcons. (11-5) Fear of hangover/after Super Bowl collapse/quashed with hot start.
2. Panthers*. (10-6) Jekyll and Hyde squad/secondary woes will be/playoff X-factor.
3. Buccaneers. (8-8) Dangerous youngsters/if Winston keeps smoking, these/pirates will plunder.
4. Saints. (7-9) Surplus of targets/await Brees, but the young D/remains unsettled.
NFC WEST
1. Seahawks. (10-6) Their soap opera/is a distraction; O-line/is of great concern.
2. Cardinals. (9-7) A sleeper team if/healthy; don’t doubt Arians/miracle worker.
3. Rams. (6-10) Worse than they look, Goff/must prove he’s not a flop or/the horns will fall off.
4. Niners. (3-13) Very modest goals/new coaches search for gold and/turn up some pyrite.
OTHER PICKS:
NFL MVP: Jameis Winston, Bucs
Offensive ROY: Christian McCaffrey, Panthers
Defensive ROY: Myles Garrett, Browns
First Head Coach Fired: Doug Marrone, Jaguars
Super Bowl LI: Patriots 29, Cowboys 10
Sunday, August 13, 2017
The Never-ending Chaos
He came, he saw... he Mooched? The first White House employee to serve negative time, Anthony Scaramucci's ten days between appointment and forced resignation were a whirlwind. There's not much I can say that hasn't already been said, beyond the fact that Scaramucci's demeanor made him horrifically ill-suited for the position, and President Trump's tendency to hire and appoint sycophants and close friends has reached peak hubris. Here's hoping Gen. John Kelly, a public servant as straitlaced as Scaramucci was loud and profane, will attempt to bring a level of dignity and gravitas we haven't seen yet in the Trump White House.
Early last week --just before Mooch's resignation, as a matter of fact-- I had read this editorial from the National Review and commented on it on Twitter. I joked that at least it wasn't "that pinko rag The Weekly Standard"; he liked the reply, but it was pretty clear he didn't know I was joking. It was another brief, discomforting reminder that quite often, arguing with Trump's most ardent supporters is a rabbit hole into obliviousness. They are brainwashed, putting patriotism before critical thinking, the blind led by the blind.
NOTE: I wrote these two first paragraphs before the act of terror and ensuing fracas in Charlottesville, Virginia on August 11th. This weekend, for the first time since I launched Stu News, I posted something that wasn't meant to be satirical or jovial. The bigots and white nationalists that Trump catered to during the 2016 primaries feel validated, and for as odious and reprehensible their actions were, this was their rallying moment. (Incidentally, the National Review begged Trump to condemn the alt-right. Everyone is still waiting.) They were taught to hate, to vehemently distrust those unlike them, and now they think they have the same rights that everyone else has. I am appalled beyond words. My thoughts are with the Heyer family and those injured in Saturday's counter-protest.
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Early last week --just before Mooch's resignation, as a matter of fact-- I had read this editorial from the National Review and commented on it on Twitter. I joked that at least it wasn't "that pinko rag The Weekly Standard"; he liked the reply, but it was pretty clear he didn't know I was joking. It was another brief, discomforting reminder that quite often, arguing with Trump's most ardent supporters is a rabbit hole into obliviousness. They are brainwashed, putting patriotism before critical thinking, the blind led by the blind.
NOTE: I wrote these two first paragraphs before the act of terror and ensuing fracas in Charlottesville, Virginia on August 11th. This weekend, for the first time since I launched Stu News, I posted something that wasn't meant to be satirical or jovial. The bigots and white nationalists that Trump catered to during the 2016 primaries feel validated, and for as odious and reprehensible their actions were, this was their rallying moment. (Incidentally, the National Review begged Trump to condemn the alt-right. Everyone is still waiting.) They were taught to hate, to vehemently distrust those unlike them, and now they think they have the same rights that everyone else has. I am appalled beyond words. My thoughts are with the Heyer family and those injured in Saturday's counter-protest.
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Friday, August 11, 2017
RIP The Gorilla Tango Theater
This past Monday, the Gorilla Tango shuttered it doors. By default the best entertainment venue in Bucktown, GTT was known mostly for burlesque. It doubled as an art gallery and a playhouse, but I was acquainted and associated with GTT by improv. I spent three seasons with the Improv Zoo coached ensemble program that Kristi McKay ran in 2012-13, and made my first leap into producing there with a variety show in October 2013.
Like a lot of people, I have mixed feelings about Gorilla Tango's demise. On one hand, I met Dan Anderson during my last season with the Improv Zoo, and Flower Shop Bangers owes its existence to a happenstance show at GTT. On the other hand, it was rather expensive to produce a show in the space (I was convinced by a flyer at the ticket desk) and "The Allard Programme" lost so much money, it took me almost two years to pay it off. Considering who assisted me with getting the show off the ground --mostly good friends, but some acquaintances too-- it was both a learning experience and a mild embarrassment.
The last time I set foot in GTT was about six months ago. I tagged along with my girlfriend Marissa and our pal Aaron to see a "Back to the Future" -themed burlesque show. These type of shows were what kept the lights on, and even though they were well-received the tickets were ridiculously expensive. They were known to sell out too, but this particular performance of "Boobs to the Future" sold maybe 12 tickets. At one point, the dancers did a bit where they begged audience members for donations. I didn't realize they were legitimately asking for tips. Rumors of apparent financial issues were going from a mumble to a holler.
The photo taken above was from the third of the four "Allard Programme" shows I hosted and produced. I only sold eight total tickets in the first two shows, so I promised that if we sold out the theater for week three, I would host part of the show in my junior high gym uniform. We fell way short of my goal, but I twirled around in my old gym suit anyway. C'est la vie.
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