Date Taken: 12/20/06
From: Lincoln Square
To: Roscoe Village
The Cab: There is no more magical sight on a rainy winter’s eve than a van cab with an automatic door. But wait . . . it gets better. The interior features captain’s chairs in the front-rear section, each fitted with their own snug-fitting seatbelt. The air freshening is kept to nose-tickling levels, although perhaps a tad sweet for such a clean, bold, masculine interior.
The Driver: True, he loves his hands-free cell phone, but he keeps the conversational volume politely low. Not so the cheesy, soft-jazz instrumental interpretations of Yuletide classics, which are unfortunately just loud enough to lodge firmly in the passenger’s brain. But when the velvet-voiced chauffeur begins cheerfully humming and scatting along, well, come on now. This reviewer’s not made of stone.

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Posted on December 20, 2006

By Claudia Hunter

Tomorrow morning I’m getting on a plane and flying from O’Hare to my parents’ home in Central Pennsylvania. My family is huge on Christmas. Seriously. We’re the family they make Ben Stiller movies about. Everyone gets wildly enthusiastic to see one another – for about a day and a half.
Then there’s a frenzy of people trying to find one corner of privacy or silence or space away from everyone else lest there be a catastrophic event – and no place is sacred. We were raised in a world without privacy, and that comes racing back when we’re at my parents’ for a holiday. You can be in the middle of a shower and the door will burst open so my Dad can put his pajamas in the hamper.

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Posted on December 20, 2006

By Will Cleveland

The Tribune Company announced recently that it was extending its “strategic review process” to “ensure thorough consideration of all proposals” by suitors hoping to buy the company – as a whole or in parts. Even if someone buys the whole company, they may sell off its parts.
In other words,Tribune is having a garage sale!
We do some window shopping.

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Posted on December 18, 2006

By Maude Perkins

Nothing better illustrates the word “juxtaposition” like Saturday nights and Sunday mornings at my store. I believe I have so far aptly conveyed that the majority of my customer base is made up of white, upper-class Americans. With the exception of the occasional landscapers or construction workers who trickle in from the yards of the rich white people, there are very few diversified exceptions to this rule.
Aside from Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, that is.
On the weekends, many traveling homeless people land in the suburban location of my store to use the church shelter available to them. The only catch is that they must relocate during Saturday night and Sunday morning services so that the rich people can pray.

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Posted on December 18, 2006

Date Taken: 12/13/06
From: Roscoe Village
To: Wicker Park
The Cab: Safety-glass- and cell phone-free! The front seats were lusciously upholstered in plush taupe; the back seats in lumpy-textured vinyl. Could’ve seemed like a punitive measure, but the whole interior was so clean and comfy it was hard to take the seating disparity as a personal attack. But then there was the smell. If you can imagine being transported in a giant vat of Pina Colada mix, you’re getting warm. Now imagine you choke a little bit and some of it gets up your nose. Yeah, that’s it.

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Posted on December 14, 2006

Date: 12/10/06
From: North and Clybourn
To: Wicker Park
The Cab: A Crown Vic bathed in the scent of Monster energy drink.
The Driver: Surly. Right off the bat, I was berated for wanting to go in the “wrong” direction. I countered that I had waved at him to make a right on North Avenue so I could cross the street and get in with the cab pointed west; driver reiterated his original complaint. Driver was also eating “Taco” flavored Doritos. This struck me as odd.

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Posted on December 14, 2006

By Maude Perkins

Even the simple things can be infinitely complex when you work for a worldwide corporate coffee chain. Take our refill policy, for example. Corporate HQ requires that patrons seeking refills haven’t left the store since their initial purchase. And refills are only good for an hour after the initial purchase. And refills aren’t free; we charge 50 cents per.
Still, my store is particularly liberal when it comes to refills, which after all only apply to plain coffee. Despite Corporate’s edict, we let our regulars come and go all day long and still qualify for refills.That’s just the kind of folks we are. But as the saying goes, no bending of the rules goes unpunished, and some people feel it is their purpose on this earth to abuse any privilege extended them.

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Posted on December 11, 2006

By The Beachwood Online Auction Affairs Desk

Online auction giant eBay claims in its commercials that “Whatever IT is, you can get it on eBay.” We at the Beachwood decided to put this to the test. What we discovered was shocking. There are, in fact, numerous things that you can’t buy on eBay, including the following:
1. An elephant.
2. West Nile Virus.
3. Karma.
4. A booger.
5. The Stanley Cup. (You can, however, get an inflatable replica.)
6. A 1986 Chicago Tribune from when the Bears won the Super Bowl.
7. A Billy Joe Tolliver jersey.
8. A City of Chicago job.
9. Anything with the name “Stroger” on it. Unless you’re looking for legendary bluesman Bob Stroger.
10. Tony Peraica’s sense of direction.

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Posted on December 9, 2006

By Maude Perkins

Even amidst all my misanthropic haranguing and violent meditation, I am constantly grateful for the positive self-reflection that my elite customers inspire. As I’ve said before, my own sanity is certainly more apparent when up against the specially-minded few who practically hyperventilate when the espresso bar is temporarily out of order. When I encounter these fragile characters, I am just thankful to have real life problems.
Also, when observing my store’s rich, pancake-assed customer base, I feel further fortunate that I don’t have tons of money distorting my mind into thinking that half the shit they think matters, matters. The money would be welcome of course, just not the distortion. Each and every day, I witness great moments in yuppie prioritizing. And if yuppies can’t teach us all a thing about values, you may as well tell me that Santa Claus doesn’t exist and take away Christmas and all the presents too, you Grinch bastard.
Take, for example, the lessons in accepting responsibility that I learn from observing the mom and boogery kid rush that happens sporadically throughout the weekdays. It is during these rushes that a yuppie mother truly shines, demonstrating what great work she has done with her kids. During these mom conventions, it is evident what matters most in their lives: town gossip, reality television gossip, Oprah gossip, skim lattes, shopping gossip, hair/nail gossip, and, oh yeah, their children.

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Posted on December 7, 2006

Date: 12/01/06
From: Downtown
To: Wicker Park
The Cab: A Crown Victoria with satisfying faux wood paneling on the dash.

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Posted on December 2, 2006