By Scott Buckner

I don’t get downtown much, but I was downtown recently and had some time to really take in my surroundings. A few observations.

1. You know those those big electronic street kiosks with ads that keep changing? Every time I passed one along my route between the Randolph Street Metra station and my first destination at Monroe and LaSalle, Tea Leoni kept popping up in the same ad for Di Modolo jewelry. It was like those eyes kept following me, kind of like that 3D picture of crucified Jesus in Born In East LA. If I was paranoid, I’d have thought maybe the Chicago Police Department was using her ads for streetside surveillance work.

2. A window in the Tribune Tower has a moon rock brought back by the astronauts from the Apollo-whatever mission in 1971. It looks like lava from Hawaii, but still, how fucking cool is that?

3. I’m almost tempted to say the bicycle art along Michigan Avenue sucks. I know: Why don’t we scour the suburbs on trash day for a boatload of rusty old bikes, do some wacky things like weld a few frames to each other, put the handlebars on backwards, paint them Day-Glo colors, stick them in the middle of some tulip gardens next to the curb, and call it civic art? I’ve seen collisions between two bike messengers that were more inspiring.

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Posted on May 30, 2007

Date Taken: 5/23/07
From: Wicker Park
To: Navy Pier
The Cab: Well-kept, clean, nondescript. A weird circular interior roof light above the fare meter. Efficient use of visors for printed materials.
The Driver: Greeted me with a silent nod. Wore stylish rectangular sunglasses. Remained calm and oblivious throughout the trip as if we didn’t nearly hit a car, a school bus, and a trolley. It was only when his crappy jazz-samba Muzak ringtone rang a couple times that I realized he had been engaged in low-volume secret conversations the whole ride.

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Posted on May 29, 2007

Date Taken: 5/19/07
From: Wicker Park
To: Roscoe Village
Reviewer’s Note: Many years back – when Glam-To-Go was still the scary Romanian butcher, a cut and blow-dry at Big Hair cost $5, and your reviewer was just another bright-eyed Rust Belt refugee looking to make her name in the city – Ray St. Ray, the Singing Cab Driver, was a fixture in Roscoe Village. You’d peek out the window of Mulligan’s and there he’d be at the Speedway, cleaning the back dash of his spiffed-up rockabilly cab. Hailing him during non-peak hours was almost automatic. After a year or so in the neighborhood, this reviewer had heard his entire musical catalog and knew his polished introductory shtick almost word-for-word. Then, like Cardenas Grocery and Irv’s Adjuvant General Dry Cleaners, he was gone. No more buffed vinyl, no more snappy ties, no more songs about love or sex or chocolate or other. Ahead lay a long succession of non-musical drivers and taxi cab emptiness. Right up until the night of May 19.

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Posted on May 24, 2007

Date Taken: 5/16/07
From: Lincoln Park
To: Wicker Park
The Cab: Why do so many cabs use that same perfumey air freshener that certainly doesn’t refresh? I’d rather have my cabs smell like repair garages, or even like working men. An ordinary interior beyond that, though this was one of those cabs with that weird coil-y thing snaking from the front dash to the back dividing window. What, are they pumping that odor directly into the backseat to improve efficiency and speed up the nausea to come?

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Posted on May 23, 2007

Date Taken: 5/18/07
From: Roscoe Village
To: Irving Park
The Cab: Boasted the highest burglar-shield-to-fare-window ratio yet experienced, being somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 square inches of ballistics-rated plastic for every one square inch of open space. The backseat breathing room was further obstructed by a bizarre contraption – maybe a stereo, maybe a climate-control device, or maybe just a conversation starter – suspended from the ceiling above the fare window. It boasted four round grate-like openings and what looked like a light on the undercarriage, but no discernable means to make it do whatever it was it was meant to be doing. Despite these unsettling features, the cab was clean and your tobacco-wary reviewer appreciated the oversized “No Smoking” sign posted just behind the driver’s seat.

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Posted on May 21, 2007

Date Taken: 5/16/07
From: Wicker Park
To: Lincoln Park
The Cab: A Four Aces cab with the satisfying array-of-four-aces logo on the door. A cab fit for moviemaking; perfectly worn but not dirty. Small tears in the vinyl seat; a broken door-inset litter tray; seat belt straps hanging down below the driver’s seat. It felt right. The engine was just a little rough and the brakes just a little squeaky. Action!
And there would be.

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Posted on May 18, 2007

By Maude Perkins

Well, I can’t put it off anymore, I have to break the news. You may have noticed my recent disappearance from the barista scene. While I’m sure that most of you dear readers assumed I was merely off on a month-long cruise of the Mediterranean, perhaps celebrating my exciting Lisagor nomination, I am sad to say that has not been the case. Nor have I been in a bitter, paralyzing funk over not actually winning the Lisagor. I am happy to say that is also not the case. I knew I stood no chance against a competitor with “Katrina” in the title.
Truth be told, I have struggled in recent weeks to be inspired. It is difficult to pour my feelings onto this page without the daily brewing of corporation- and people-loathing, for I am a barista no more. My heart hangs heavy.

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Posted on May 14, 2007

Dear Alderman Natarus:

Thank you for not speaking to me for an entire year when I was writing a column for the Sun-Times, often centering on the Chicago City Council. Truthfully, I can’t remember exactly what I wrote to prompt such an uncharacteristic response from you. But I do know there were many at City Hall who wished they knew my secret.

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Posted on May 10, 2007

Date Taken: 5/9/07
From: Wicker Park
To: Loop
The Cab: A controlled environment. Aside from a discarded Sun-Times in the back seat, both clean as a whistle and neat as a pin. But so much more. What with the fruity aroma and vibrant Vivaldi. it was like Ravinia in there – without the insufferables. (For some reason I wanted it to be Vivaldi, but I really have no idea.) Add the light use of air conditioning and plump seating and I felt like I was traveling in a bubble. That would not last.

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Posted on May 9, 2007

By The Beachwood Teen Showering Affairs Desk

Hello Mr. Steve Rhodes:
The following press release about the Shower Manager, a new product that cuts back excessive showering and saves water and energy, may be of interest to your audience. Any editorial comment or mention that you may give this press release would be greatly appreciated.
NEW PRODUCT CUTS EXCESSIVE SHOWERING BY TEENS: SAVES WATER AND ENERGY! AUTOMATED DEVICE ELIMINATES FAMILY HASSLES!

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Posted on May 7, 2007