No Tweeting on Tuesdays...

5020 North Sheridan road is one of Uptown's most sweetest spoons.

Yelping about Tweet has rated the restaurant at 4.5/5 stars after 253 reviews.

Here's another rave:

To begin, this is the kind of breakfast and brunch joint where you will probably wait
a half-hour for a table... but you'll love it.

If you're like most of the hungry crowd, you'll hang out sipping free coffee. When you notice the condiment bar actually offers Stevia extract, an herbal sugarless sweetener sold at health food stores - you'll begin to see the everyone is welcome atmosphere.

I recommend splurging on one of their spiked juices.

The Bloody Mary - a vegetable garden itself - is a meal on its own.

Then there's all that citrusy champagne stuff that brings decadence to the table.

And all around you, piles of newspapers and magazines are a free-for-all. You'll have to cut through conversations to make your way to your favorite New York Times section, or find yourself with plenty to say about all the wall - hangings.

Yes, it's artsy.

Not to worry about the drinking, though, the portions will be generous enough to absorb that too-early-for-alcohol buzz...

There's alot of Mexican influence on the menu, and then crazy delicious crab-cake concoctions.

Like Benedictine Crab Cakes!

If that sounds yucky to you - don't worry. It took my table over 20 minutes to climb through a two page menu and finally decide what to order.

And no restaurant review would be complete without mentioning the staff.

Our waitress was 50's style - her black hair wrapped back by a bandana, red lipstick popping, ivory complexion, buxom in the pin-up kind of why. Why does that matter?

Well, she was so sweet you couldn't hate her because she was beautiful.

And there was a beautiful showing of busboys from the world all over happy to help in any way they could.

Be prepared to pay in cash, and let yourself go. Before drinks, you'll probably drop a twenty, but you'll feel it was well-spent. Save it for a special occasion, though, so you won't question the drink order.

Tweet before 3pm, but no Tweeting on Tuesdays!

Buddha-town: The Buddhist Temple of Chicago

Uptown is truly a place of diversity. Even more so, the diversity is really integrated. You can smell it in the air while walking down Broadway between Wilson and Argyle. In those blocks alone there are several Mexican restaurants, an Ethiopian restaurant (Demera), a handful of Vietnamese restaurants, Chinese restaurants, breakfast joints (The Golden House Restaurant), and a Buddhist temple.

Yes, there is a Buddhist temple. Located at 1151 W. Leland Ave. in Uptown, the Buddhist Temple of Chicago has been providing a space for believers and non-believers alike to congregate since 1944. The temple integrates Japanese Buddhism with some Western Church-based practices such as sermons and hymns. The type of Buddhism practiced at the temple is known as Jodo Shinshu or Shin Buddhism. It is the most widely practiced branch of Buddhism in Japan today and has obviously gained some popularity in other places such as the United States.

The temple holds regular services every Sunday at 11:00am and 1:00pm. The early service is in English and the later one in Japanese.

For more information, visit their website www.budtempchi.org.

The Uptown Theater: the Ghost of a Landmark

The Uptown Theater, also known as the Balaban and Katz Uptown Theater, is a sight to see. In fact, seeing is believing when it comes to this historic and monumental theater. It is hard to describe the magnitude of the building: its eight story church-like facade, the sheer size (the building occupies over 46,000 square feet), and the grand interior. You simply have to go and take a look for yourself. Too bad we can no longer experience the theater for ourselves, at least the interior of it; the establishment was closed in 1981 due to a serious water damage caused by a burst water pipe. In the following years, continued neglect lead to more deterioration.

Currently, there is a restoration effort under way. It is headed by a group called Friends of the Uptown, which is comprised of theater enthusiast, historians, and local residents whom don't want to see the landmark sit dormant anymore.

The Uptown Theater has been around since 1925, and is apparently the largest theater in the US, even beating out Radio City Music Hall in New York City with a 4, 381 seating capacity. With that said, it really is a shame that such a magnificent building is sitting vacant. Think about the amount of revenue that such a place could bring to a community; jobs, entertainment, etc.

The interior is truly something special. Go to undercity, a website dedicated to exploring urban and non-urban terrain, particularly the areas that a less traveled; tunnels, abandoned theaters, etc. The site has some phenomenal photos of the little known theater. In addition, there is an award winning documentary entitled Uptown: Portrait of a Palace about the history and restoration effort of the Uptown Theater. Although i couldn't find the full version, here is the trailer for the documentary.

Wincrest Nursing Center: Intermediate Careless Facility

View Larger Map

Here we have an 82-bed "intermediate care facility" called Wincrest Nursing Center. In 2005, the Illinois Department of Public Health fined the center for the following allegation:

"Wincrest Nursing Center , an 82-bed intermediate care facility located at 6326 N. Winthrop Ave. in Chicago, has been fined $5,000 (Statement of Violation) for failure to provide adequate supervision and to take all necessary precautions to ensure a resident’s environment remains as free of accident hazards as possible. A resident, who had a history of setting fires when he was upset with his wife, started a fire in his room. The facility took no safety precautions to safeguard and closely monitor the resident after he came back early from being out on a pass because of a personal problem with his wife. The facility also failed to check the resident for smoking materials upon his return. Wincrest has requested a hearing. No hearing date has been set."

*Here you can read details of a 1976 fire at Wincrest where 23 people died of smoke inhalation.

Between web and on-the-ground research, the following report details my initial perception of Wincrest's community service.

Part One: The Place

Though nothing stands out about the place from its Google Street View, I learned over the last week that this building shelters psychiatric patients on residential Winthrop, a common foot or cycle path for Loyola students residing in the neighborhood.

An anonymous commenter on the Edgewater Crime Blotter stated that some of the "nursing home" residents are responsible for the most violent crimes in the area. A 26-year-old female living a couple blocks south avoids that stretch of Winthrop because the place "doesn't seem right. The people outside its doors seem very threatening."

And before the east end of Granville "went dry" - one area resident described his encounters with Wincrest patients on the Sun-Times website.

"The talk on the street is that they were "graduates" of the Wincrest home up the block. Wincrest is a nursing home whose residents are primarily people with mental/emotional/social/substance abuse problems. A lot of the worst winos came from there... one time I saw a guy from there come down in a wheel chair, get his booze, drink it on the sidewalk, then hobble over to the place where Sam's store adjoins the fence around the new bldg. I was more scared for him than anything, I thought he was going to break his neck! Likewise, a lot of the most persistent and scary panhandlers are Wincrest residents... I had one follow me almost all the way home from Walgreen's after dark a year ago... that REALLY creeped me out!"

The "pass" referenced by the IDPH complaint is essentially unsupervised freedom: to step out to smoke, or to walk down the street, or to plant oneself outside of the Granville CTA station to panhandle. This might not be a privilege for all of Wincrest's patients, but it is granted daily to one of the neighborhood's most notorious figures.

If you live or visit Edgewater, you might be able to guess without reading any further.


Part Two: The Person


Quoth the residents of Edgewater, "Yes!"

Yes, "the crying lady" rings a bell. One local at the Kenmore/Granville corner laundromat let me in on what he and his roommates call her:

"Sniffles."

If anything would give someone something to cry about - homelessness in America might be it. And for those whose mission it is to aid the homeless, demeaning someone who might already feel a loss of dignity ("Sniffles?!") would show tactlessness and perhaps a deficit of good character. She is harder to dismiss than most persistent beggars, and as I mentioned in a previous post, her tactics are like guilt bombs.

But the tears-streaming strategy has inflicted a Pavlovian response upon those who recognize "the crying lady." It's a pretty consistent and universal process:

1) Deep Concern:

It's a woman in hysterics. You've never seen her before. What can be done to help? She's hungry? She needs help.

Possibly, a charitable donation is doled her way; but if not, she's made an impression.

2) Concern and suspicion

She's still here? Certainly she couldn't have been ignored for an entire afternoon,
week, month? She's still crying? Does this woman need a doctor?

3) Eye-rolling/Jesting

This is theatrics! - A spiel, gimmick, shtick - call it what you will. The damn lady is still
out here crying. I don't buy it anymore.

Without fail, this is the response described to me - a dozen times over - by everyone that recognizes her. Though the phases are variant in duration, the ending result is the unanimous. What begins seeming like a crack in the foundation of society, an incomprehensible symbol of homelessness, turns sinister. Everyone begins to feel like the harmless lady who cries, whose sobs turn to shrieks as you pass by, is a public nuisance and a personal annoyance.


Part Three: The Point... or, the Problem

It was my third encounter crossing her path, but I still pitied her and wanted to help.

Her name is Jackie W---.

Jackie asked my Dad for a meal when we passed by and offered her a cup of coffee. She pointed to a BBQ joint across the street where she would order Italian Sausage and some soda.

She didn't eat it in front of us. She took it into a house where she told us she sometimes stays for $10 a night. The old woman who owns it was kind enough to her to charge so little, even allowing her to crash on the floor of a hallway when she doesn't earn enough panhandling to eat and pay the door-fee. But we weren't advised to approach the house with Jackie. She said the old woman was paranoid and would think we were cops. We thought it best not to pry any further.

We gave Jackie $20 for two night's lodging and bought her the meal. We gave her a phone number to reach her and promised we would help her get in touch with her family. After all, she was only homeless because friends abandoned her when they got drunk in Chicago and went back to Jackson, MS, without her, taking Jackie's purse unknowingly. She missed her job as a postal carrier.

She wasn't sure she had any family when I asked at first, but later said she has a 5-year-old daughter living with her sister down in Jackson.

They live at a fictional address Jackie provided me. No phone number was traced to the names. In fact, no people were traced to the names either.

Poor Jackie, I still thought.

I thought.

A few of Edgewater's shoppers let me know I would be foolish to believe her story. She'd been around much longer than 3 months. For some who moved into the area years back, they can't remember a time without Jackie's wails greeting them as they landed on Granville from their daily red-line commute home.

I still felt bad for her. Even if she was fabricating her story, I knew her name, but no one I asked about her did.

Part Four: The Proof

Jackie called me on Easter Sunday. Less than 24 hours since we parted ways, she knew I was going to try and help her. She needed some place to stay that night. When I asked what happened to the $10 we gave her to stay in the woman's house on Sunday, too, she said she'd spent it on breakfast.

She'd been resourceful enough to manage a good deal for herself. Her call was to solicit my investment. She even enlisted a broker to help iron out the deal.

His name was "Rick Sing" - an administrator at the Wincrest Nursing Center. He knew Jackie from previous stays, and was happy to see her return for help. For $100, he could slip her into her own room and lodge her for the rest of April. She wanted to stay 2 - 3 months to get herself a job while getting 3 meals a day, medical care, and a bathroom to herself.

She told me her reason for crying so much was that she was so, so, tired, and so desperate for a place to shower. Wincrest would be perfect, and Rick Sing would be her angel, if only we could spare $100 more.

She could stay for practical pennies while Mr. Sing would get her public aid to finance the remainder of her stay. It was such a professional proposal: her medical needs would be attended to by the Illinois Masonic Organization.

All for the going-under-the-table rate of one hundred dollars.

Surprised, I told Jackie this was not our agreement, but that I would investigate our options through the week. Though the noise of the day room where they placed the call was almost too loud to hear a word they said, I was able to hear the name "Bobby Bains" when I asked who I might speak to when I call back.

Two hours later, Jackie called again, telling me the administrator was getting ready to leave for the day. I told her it would take me a few days to figure everything out. A college student with no extra cash living in the south suburbs was really in no position to do anything - I thought she understood that. It was the first time I heard her not crying.

She told me she would call me back the next day.

That night, I spoke to a nurse at the facility.

When I mentioned I'd spoken to Rick Sing, the administrator, she asked me how he sounded, if he was a quick-speaking Indian. Indeed, he was certainly not Indian.

Bobby Bains is a resident there already. So is Jackie - for the last two years. Currently, she "works" for Bobby. She's a "psych" patient and a "substance abuser." He's a great administrator impersonator and a pimp.

When I asked if her employment involved dealing drugs, I was told no.

When I asked if this meant she prostitutes, I was told I'm a smart girl.

When I asked how she's able to roam the area daily, crying and panhandling, I was told "she's a citizen of the United States of America." - but thanked for the information about what she's doing.

Part Five: What in the.....?!

I called Jackie on Monday to politely let her know I knew she was already a resident in the center, told her I was sorry for her troubles, and let her know that I wouldn't be able to help her any further. I wished her the best.

She told me they were confused and referring to another Jackie.

In the last week, when I've explained to curious residents of the neighborhood and otherwise what I learned about "the crying lady" - I've been wondering if my usage of her story as a journalistic subject is ethical.

But any business is subject to the Better Business Bureau, and every bureaucracy is subject to probing from the media.

She is a substance abuser, and I noticed physical symptoms of that. Her psych classification isn't necessarily based on other mental illness. She's been specially trained by those in her circle, like Bobby Bains, how to play on the emotions of people like me to support her habit.

That's fine. It's a whole operation based on drug addiction. Sympathizers of the alleged homeless are unknowingly subsidizing them.

My question is: why is the government?

My other question is: what does "intermediate care" really mean?

Uptown rats

Tonight, I ventured into Uptown to find the scoop on something blog-worthy--a feat that would have been beyond easy had I remembered my digital camera. Coming off the Lawrence Red Line stop, I saw a long line of concert-goers outside the historic Aragon Ballroom. Later on, another line wrapped around the corner of Lawrence and Broadway as people waited to get into the famous Green Mill Lounge to listen to some hoppin' live jazz. I even walked past the picturesque Wild Pug, a dog-friendly, gay sports bar that had an adorable, fluffy dog sitting in the open window frame, patiently waiting for his owner. If I had remembered my camera, it would have been as simple as snapping a few photos, approaching a few strangers for some quotes, and heading home for the night.

Instead, I decided to swing by my old high school buddy Rogo's house. He lives on the corner of Lawrence and Magnolia, right behind the once-revered Uptown Theater. I hadn't seen him in about a year, and it would have been wrong to "be in the neighborhood" and not stop by. I have a few friends who moved to Uptown because they were attracted to the affordable rent. Rogo's apartment is huge--really, it's a house, and he and his 3 roommates share the entire first floor. The house is charming with a lot of character, and since the weather today was so inviting, we decided to take our conversation out onto the peeling front porch where Rogo could smoke and I could observe the residential side of Uptown life.

A "for sale" sign on the fence outside Rogo's house raised the question of his landlord's intentions to sell. Rogo loves his home, and such a spacious apartment for his rent is a tough find--I knew he would not want to let it go without a fight. So he told me his strategy for deterring potential buyers: he and his roommates display BB guns in the living room and casually mention to interested investors that they use them to hunt rats.

At first, I thought that Rogo was exaggerating or being clever in a disturbed way. Then his neighbor came home and joined us on the steps and started complaining about the nest of mice that have taken up residence near her bedroom. I asked why they don't demand that their landlord fix their pest problem, but since he now lives in California, rodents in Uptown are no longer their landlord's main concern. For now, it seems that Rogo and his neighbors are content to just deal with the mouse problem, and hey, at least it deters people from buying the property!

I wish so badly that I had had my camera on me when this giant rat came scurrying furiously under the front gate and towards the steps where we were seated. I yelled and pointed straight at it, and the rat turned around and headed back toward where he came from. Then he changed his mind, decided I didn't intimidate him one bit, and charged straight back towards us, disappearing underneath the porch.

I guess like Rogo, the fearless, sassy Uptown rats know a good deal when they see it. It seems they won't be leaving the house on Magnolia without a fight, either!

My Uptown adventure tonight, although tame, let me see another side of the neighborhood that I hadn't previously anticipated.

And I like to imagine Rogo as he jokingly described himself, shirtless in his back yard, wearing a hunting hat and waving his BB rifle in the air, hootin' and hollerin' as he blew up the rats.

Uptown Update: Blog or witness protection program?

Via Uptown Update:

(seriously - click that link and find out what the heck is happening)

"Google regularly receives subpoenas seeking information for a variety of reasons related to blogs hosted on Blogger.com" ... like now as the anonymous bloggers behind Uptown's online watchdog might be exposed over their Wilson Yard Project reports.

Either they are journalists working for larger media needing an opinionated outpost or --- they are jumping the wro-o-o-o-ng fence.

Could the intellectual exchange happening on these neighborhood blogs begin attracting more law enforcement than the uh, drug dealing in plain view happening right outside the Wilson Red Line CTA stop?

Maybe this is why I've yet to hear back from the Edgewater Crime Blotter bloggers. Citizen journalist bloggers are like mafia informants. Except the "mafia" in this equation are supposed to be publicly elected officers. Keepin' them honest is not a cowardly endeavor - so why are their investigators scratching off their bylines?

The Wilson Yard Project

As i was conducting my research on Uptown, i immediately discovered that the Wilson Yard project was a particularly hot topic in several blogs such as Uptown Update and The Windy Citizen. To fill in those who are unaware, the Wilson Yard project is a urban renewal project in Uptown that is slated for completion in 2010. The finished project will include a 180,000 square foot Target store, a new street scape along Broadway along with new infrastructure improvements, etc. For all the details, got to Ald. Helen Schiller's website.

Since i moved into the area a year and a half ago, i have always been curious about what was going to go in the large vacant lot. The site has been under construction ever since i can remember, at the very least since my freshman year at DePaul (2004-05). Every time i would pass the construction site going south on the Red Line, between the Wilson and Sheridan stops, i was able to see the progress on the project. Up until the past month or so, the lot has basically been vacant, as construction was limited to clearing the area out for the new complex.

There have been several issues surrounding the Wilson Yard project. For one, that area of Uptown is what is known as a TIF district. A TIF is a financing tool that can be used by the city/community government to develop or redevelop any part of the city that falls under the TIF. TIF literally stands for tax increment financing. How it works is that a "snap shot" of current tax revenues in a area is taken , those revenues are frozen to maintain that level. Any increases in tax revenues after that point are allocated to the TIF fund, which usually has a life span of 23 years.

Anyway, the issues revolve around alledged abuses by the city government in the financing, planning, and creation of the Wilson Yard project. There has even been a lawsuit filed in December 2008 by the community group Fix Wilson Yard, whom claim to represent more than 2,000 residents. For more info, click here.

A sit down at Standees

all photos by Molly Horan

Not to belabor the point, but the pure diversity bustling on Granville Avenue has really commanded my attention. To find a good gawking spot, I found myself ordering some chicken noodle soup at Standees Coffee Shop and Fountain.

So I scoped out the diner where the generation before me sipped joe in the early 70's. Neighboring business owners have since landed from Mexico, the Himalayan valley, the Far East, and Sub-Saharan Africa.
Granville's Chamber of Commerce members are as global today as are their patrons. Familia were lunching at the booth behind a pair of indie Loyola students. Their stories still unfolding, mine would have to start someplace older. knew it best to see... - no. To envision the area through veteran eyes.

The "two older white people" I first scribbled into my reporter notebook would soon jump off the page. Grace, a neighborhood landlord, and Jimmy, a retired CPD homicide investigator, meet all the time, sitting together at separate tables. Their conversation about FOX news reeled me in, and soon I was learning things I could and could not believe - crazy and amazing Edgewater history.

"Everybody gets along with everybody here, - I tell my tenants. You've got the 147 and 151 bus, the Granville CTA; you've got Dominicks, Walgreens, and Payless right there - what more could you need!"

Grace Rubbi tells me many of the same things she tells potential tenants. Psyched to say how and why the neighborhood changed, Grace had all the answers.

The local perps were driven out of the area a few years ago, "and the good people aren't going to let the bad people make it back." Though she gives anyone a break who might have stepped awry at one point or another, to move into Grace's building, you've gotta pass the usual criminal background and credit check. But you've also gotta prove a year's stability on the job. "From Granville to Clark, we're all privately owned properties, and we're not about to let our property depreciate."

"We've really invested in the neighborhood. It's the people who've improved it. Our neighborhood watch meets every month. Our beat cop walks the beat, and our aldermen, O'Connor and Mary Ann Smith, show up to our neighborhood watch meetings. We started a festival on Granville last year and closed off the street from Sheridan down to Broadway. The food vendors set up; have you ever been to Taste of Chicago? Shish-ka-bob! Like that. You can watch the air show from here. We care about our area. We even do a spring cleaning and walk all around; the best yard gets an award. The good people are going to keep the bad people out."

What bad people, right? When I told Jimmy and Grace about the Edgewater Crime Blotter , Jimmy asked, "what crime?" As officer Jim Mcdonough, Area 6 homicide, he's seen a lot worse.

The drug addicts and alcoholics some may remember crawling Granville's corners went elsewhere after enough of Edgewater's people signed a petition to close down two liquor stores on Granville. Even most of the panhandlers found a new base.

So now the upgrades are continuous. A senior park went in by the lake, and another on Thorndale, which is just a couple blocks south, and the next stop south on the Red Line.

So Grace and Jimmy finished their meals and had to get going, but not without shocking me first. "See that old building down the corner by Winthrop, 1255 W. Granville? One of the 9/11 plane terrorists was living there."

With that said, I think the most dangerous have gone away.

A Granville afternoon

Granville Avenue is quite the charmer.



The westbound trek from the lake reminds me of the question in that old Sesame Street tune, "who are the people in your neighborhood?" A barista at the Metropolis Coffee Company cafe would tell me on the last leg of my own personal block party that the people of Edgewater stand for what all of Chicago could be.

There is something to be said for encountering no dominant group. No major retailer, tourist attraction, nor any famed Chicago hot spot attracts Chicagoans by the mob. But mapping a 2009 Windy City would be incomplete without lauding what's happenin' at 6200 North. As I would discover, what tugged on me has the same hold on some of its former locals - who still return to the vintage diner, Standees Coffee Shop & Fountain, decades after moving on.

Andrew Bird told his captive audience at the Civic Opera House last night that he once endured pleurisy during his lease at an "old dilapidated hotel" on Granville. Bird has flown this stretch of shore and his reverence for its unvarnished intersections remain in tact. These were the sentiments echoed a dozen times over by the neighborhood's residents every time I asked how they like their home.


So, I ditched my car and headed straight to the first place I knew I could find someone to convince my overprotective father that Granville is a safe street to wander. This Loyola campus police station wasn't always around. It was born of a CAPS effort mobilized by Edgewater residents to quell the "Granville stop" fears.

Having walked the block from the Granville CTA station to turn on Withrop toward a friend's place countless times, I'd always kept my eyes forward while moving at a brisk pace. Ducking guilt bombs month after month - I would ignore Granville's most recognized homeless person. Today would change this.

Chatting up the locals to guage their feelings about Edgewater, I had no idea that I'd passed a GLBT library and community center - a goldmine for Chicago's GLBT community and quite the new nest for my Edgewater character studies.

Of course I'm not the first to notice the news value of this stretch of road. An Indian bbq- restaurant owner told me an Israeli journalism student from Northwestern has been down to ask about the neighborhood's turn around. And a few years back, the Chicago Sun-Times featured this Granville tour in their Drop Zone feature.

The Edgewater Crime Blotter blog might be the neighborhood's most active enthusiast, and I look forward to joining the applause for Granville's comeback.


View Larger Map

Siam Noodles

I have been a patron at Siam Noodles for almost eight years, though I had orders delivered until recently. Siam Noodle is located on the corner of Sheridan and Leland at 4654 N. Sheridan Road in the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago. There is no huge sign on the outside of the building, only a white lettering on the small door that leads into the restuarant. At first glance, one would think that the restuarant is a tiny room that can sit only six people at a time. But, on walking into the restuarant, an entrance opens into its main dinning area that easily sits up to twenty people at a time. 

I remember the first time I tried to pick up my food since I was driving past the restuarant on my way home from work. After driving back and forth a couple of times past the block Siam Noodle is located and was unable to find it, I called them and had the food delivered (the delivery man gave me the description of the entrance and I was able to locate it without difficulty the next time I went to pick up my order.)

 I can attest to the fact that the food at Siam Noodles is always delicious and almost always prepared without minor mistakes. By minor mistakes, I mean food being over-cooked, over salted, or more water where there should be less water. The food and service in this establishment is what every service industry should be. The waiters are very polite and constantly have smiles on their faces. The restaurant caters to lone eaters, couples, families with kids, and groups of any number all at once. 

Siam Noodle has been in the uptown neighborhood for over twenty years, and was recommended by "Check Please," a WTTW11 television production as one of the best restaurants in Chicago. I didn't think there was a pun intended when one walks in to see the recommendation sign from "Check Please" placed on top of the cashier's desk and on the lower past of the same desk, is a sign that reads, "No Checks Please."

Nee Jung is a staff at Siam and says she worked in other food eatries before settling at Siam Noodle. "Of all the Thai food places I have worked, this is the only place where the food is made to taste as it would at home. We do not add sugar or any other additives to make the taste pleasing to foreigners," Jung said.

After listening to Jung, it made sense to me why my Panang Curry or Basil Duck orders taste differently when I eat elsewhere. 

 

The Green Mill: A Chicago Gem

I was having trouble coming up with my first post and finally just decided to write about what i was most familiar with, the Green Mill. I have been living in Uptown for about a year and a half and the Green Mill has been the most frequent place that i find myself going to. I have even written a blog about the bouncer, Big Al is what people call him. If you are interested check it out here. For those who haven't been to this historic jazz club (it is the oldest jazz club in the entire nation), drop what you are doing right now and make your way to the Lawrence stop on the Red Line and walk one block west to Broadway. At the northwest corner of Lawrence and Broadway, you will find a bright green neon sign that reads "Green Mill Cocktail Lounge", with bright flashing lights surrounding it, please go in, and be sure to say hi to Big Al, and of course know your Green Mill etiquette: no talking while the band is playing.

The Green Mill has been a staple in Uptown since 1907, when it opened up as Pop Morse's Roadhouse, a tavern where people could stop to commemorate their passed beloved ones before moving on to St. Boniface's Cemetery. The century old bar/lounge has years of history, some of which includes the likes of notorious celebrities like Al Capone.

The Green Mill also needs to be mentioned for its great jazz performances. On any given night, you can be sure to find some good jazz to listen to. Alfonso Ponticelli and Swing Gitan are a must see on Wednesday nights.

The most important aspect of the Green Mill however, is definitely the great sense of tradition and history that you sense when you are there. The jazz club has literally seen the evolution of Uptown over the past century and the club itself can viewed as the icon of Uptown.

More Uptown Reflections

Unfortunately, I was unable to make a second voyage into Uptown this weekend (and I am already running the risk of missing my Metra train home to the suburbs as we speak!) but I definitely found more on my first trip than I blogged about. Stepping out of the Wilson Red Line station into the streets was a little bit overwhelming. The sidewalks were teeming with people out and about, enjoying the weather. Most were either in transit (shopping? coming home from work? meeting up with friends?) but some stood around, chatting with each other.

I was most struck by the bustling local economy. Everyone is talking about our nation's economic recession and how much people and businesses are suffering (and I am by no means insinuating that Uptown is exempt from this!) but in the half block that I walked from the train station to the bike store, I counted 17 open and thriving businesses! There were only 3 storefronts that were vacant, which is impressive in contrast to the block I live on in Lakeview, where there are probably only 3 storefronts that are open.

Another interesting feature? Vendors! There was a man with a moveable stand selling "tamales riquisimos"--which I translate to "crazy-delicious tamales". There were several men selling socks, hats, and other apparel and accessories out of shopping carts on one street corner, and another woman sold Avon and other beauty products from a suitcase. This is definitely not something you get to see often in Lincoln Park.

I see posts about Uptown's interesting local economy in this blog's future!

Firsties!

Yesterday afternoon I wore my (figurative) journalist goggles to Uptown for the first time. Sure, I've stopped in the neighborhood before to shop, eat, or visit my friends, but it was my first time experiencing Uptown as a dynamic setting undulating with potential sources and story ideas.

Honestly, I was not quite sure what to expect. About two and a half weeks ago, my bike was (tragically) stolen out of my garage, and I have noticed Uptown Bikes ( 4653 N Broadway) about a million times traveling north on the Red Line. My desire to replace my beloved bike seemed like the perfect context for my first trip to Uptown--after a quick Google search for the address, I headed on over to Uptown Bikes to see what it was all about.

About four or five employees were on hand, but John greeted me right away and asked me if I needed help finding anything. I explained to him my situation and didn't even bother masquerading my complete and total ignorance on the subject of bicycles. He was friendly, understanding, helpful, and sympathetic. He took the time to show me four or five different bikes that would serve my needs as a commuter, explaining the (complicated!) features of the tires, wheels, and gears for the various models. The bikes he showed me were brand new, and quite honestly out of my price range--why shell out 300 dollars for something that could easily be stolen again?--so he took me outside the shop to show me their used bike selection.

John didn't try to talk me into buying anything, and he even admitted that all of their used bikes were probably either too big or too small for me. He told me that if I wanted to pick up a used bike from another bike shop or a thrift store and bring it back there to get it fixed up, that could be an option too, but that it probably wouldn't save me too much money. I told him I would probably keep shopping around, and he even referred me to a couple of places in the city that I might want to check out.

Even though I was mildly disappointed I didn't buy anything (I kind of had this great vision of buying a sweet new bike, two-wheeling Uptown for a couple of hours, and then blogging about THAT experience!) I was left with a really great impression. John was so friendly and helpful, and I could tell that his advice was motivated by a genuine interest and passion for alternative transportation. He was not just trying to get me to buy a bike because that's his job; he was incredibly knowledgeable about bikes in general, and gave me a ton of great advice that didn't benefit him personally at all. In conversation with John, I found out that he graduated from DePaul this winter with a degree in History, but that he plans on keeping his job at Uptown Bikes because that's what he really wants to do.

What a cool guy, and what a cool shop! He made sure to give me a business card on my way out, and invited me to call or stop by with any more questions I might have.

Bummer that my bike got stolen, but on the bright side, it gave me a destination for my first Uptown visit, and I think I'll go back to Uptown Bikes for a future story.


It's official--this Uptown blogger's feet are wet, and so far, the water feels fine.



View Larger Map