The planets are all lining up together for a once in a lifetime viewing party at the end of the week.
All we need is a clear sky and an unobstructed view of the southwest sky after sunset.
Last summer we experienced the largest invasion of cicadas in over two hundred years. Small trees and bushes were wrapped in netting to protect them from the cyclical occurrence. The bugs came with a big hoopla and left with little fanfare.
The wonder in our lives is already there, right in front of us. We are all Luke Skywalkers built with the force. We just need to cultivate it.
I often chalk down the term, “watch shit do stuff.”
Some people are born with a keen eye and some people have to walk around the block a few times.
I’m the guy that must walk around the block. Walking around the block and watching shit do stuff can be an amazing experience.
Curiosity and awareness can make us see the world differently, if we develop how to use them.
My dad was a big advocate of watching shit do stuff.
We jumped on the Eisenhower on Memorial Day in the early eighties to get a closer look at the guy climbing the Sears Tower. He heard about it on WGN, so we got in the Dadillac and drove into the city to watch a guy wearing a Spider-Man costume ascend 110 stories.
Another time my Oldman told me to get in the car. He heard that the Polk Brothers up on North Avenue was on fire. We got so close to the inferno that our clothes smelled like soot when we got home.
My Oldman loved grabbing a sack of sliders and parking at the edge of the runway at O’Hare. He had a spot so damn close, we could see the pilot's name tag. You can’t do that anymore. That area has all been secured since 9/11.
The Oldman would pack a cooler full of sandwiches and pop on a Friday night. He’d wake me up before dawn on Saturday morning and drive us to the middle of nowhere just to watch a steam locomotive.
In the late nineties we went down to the lakefront to watch four CHA buildings get destroyed. It was the first time in Chicago history that explosives were used to take down a structure. The buildings were all around fourteen to seventeen stories tall. At about eight-thirty on a cold Saturday morning in December, we sat on the hood of the Dadillac eating donuts from the Oak Park Bakery.
Within two and a half minutes we watched the appearance of rubble.
Watching shit do stuff…
… and I haven’t even gotten to the natural beauty of watching shit do stuff. We can save that for a future Morning Chalkboard.
I will tease that story though.
For me the grandest magical moment was watching the birth of my three Shep kids. I can quote the late Roberta Flack on this one.
“The first time ever I saw your face,
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave.”
One last magical gift that makes life mo betta’.
Toast
The simplicity of making a piece of bread crispy and wiping it with butter. Then personalizing it with your favorite spread.
Jelly, apple butter, sugar and cinnamon, peanut butter…..
The list goes on.
I bet half of you Chalkheads want some toast right now.
Everything that can astonish us is right there in front of our eyes. We just need to unfocus and focus
