So today the awful news about the housing market was released. 27.2% drop in July. Especially terrible news for those of us dreaming of someday selling our current homes and moving on to something new. It’s pretty bad. Not just the sales, but the values in general. And the lower the prices sink, the more water we take on. Many houses in my neighborhood are worth about half of what they were in the heyday. I’m not going to price ours, but if you research it I’m sure you could find it. Needless to say, we’re not happy. We’re all stuck. What’s more, crime seems to be up in Chicago (though I don’t have the numbers for that) and the city is losing money left and right. So, with very little resources, we have to find ways to ride this rather large storm out…..

That said, I was thinking today and came up with some ideas. The list is short, but there are some things we can all do while in the midst of this thing they say isn’t a recession.

• Hold on to our jobs like grim death – The country has been shedding jobs at a high rate and joblessness is about 10%. I can’t speak for others, but I worry about employment every day (he says as he works on his personal blog). Look for ways to make your job better, for you and for others. Be a positive presence on your co-workers (and bosses).
• Do our best to pay down our mortgages – Renegotiate the terms of your loans. Refi if you can (rates are really low). Anything that will allow you to pay down your principle. Anything to get yourself above water.
• Home improvements – if not for now at least for when things are better. Anything you can do to make your house more sellable down the line.
• Find some way, any way, to save money – experts say to have an emergency fund of 3 months of salary. That’s more important now than ever. And even if you can’t get that amount salted away, anything you can save after paying bills and buying groceries, do it. At the very least you’ll have money for a future down payment.
• And lastly – and I think this will be important – get involved in our community. Things are tough. People have no money. Many have no jobs. It’s not hard for crime an apathy to grab hold. If we get to know our neighbors, are unafraid to call the alderman’s office to complain, call 911, or even keep up our homes, it will only help, whether we want to get the heck out or stay. This one has been tougher for me, because basically I have hated my neighborhood for some time now. I’ll need to suck it up and become part of the community I guess…. at least for now.

It saddens me that we’ll need to stick around longer than we wanted to (barring a miracle), but there are plenty of people these days sitting in homes without power, waiting for the sheriff to come and evict them. Or worse. We’ll just have to take the long road to get to our dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember a day when I posted here a few times a week. I’ll try to do it more than once every few months. But thanks to Facebook and Twitter, my attention span is too tiny and I tend to forget about this place….. Sorry.

Even as a vegetarian, I have nothing against hunting. In fact, I wish that more people hunted so fast food joints and factory farms would be put out of business. I grew up around fishing and, though I know it is not the same, it gave me somewhat an appreciation of the patience and effort hunting takes.

So some of my co-workers went “hunting” this weekend. Their “hunting” consisted of someone driving up with a truck full of birds (pheasants) in boxes and placing the boxes in bushes and letting the birds loose. While this was happening, the “hunters” would grab a few drinks. When they were ready, they would mosey out to the hunting area, and let loose a few dogs. The dogs would scare the birds into flight. As the birds took off, the “hunters” would shoot them.

This is not hunting.

BattleStar Galactica is done. So is the Shield. Mad Men is on break. So what do you do? Over the last few months I decided to reacquaint myself with an old friend. I started watching Dr. Who again.

Tom Baker as the Fourth Doctor

I grew up watching Dr. Who, a show that had the unfortunate release date of November 22, 1963 but somehow still survive, more or less, for over 40 years. By the time I started watching, he was on his fourth regeneration (he changes form every so often when he is close to death – don’t ask). Fan favorite Tom Baker (Doctor from 74 to 81) was in full swing. Aside from the last doctor, played by David Tennant, Baker was the most recognizable, with his long striped scarf and mop of curly brown hair. He was MY doctor. In 81, Baker regenerated into Peter Davison, who was a little more dour and cerebral. My interest waned and I found other pursuits. In 89, save an occasional BBC movie or rerun, the Doctor went away, though I hardly noticed.

Christopher Eccleston as the Ninth Dotor

In 2005, BBC brought the Doctor back, brilliantly played by Christopher Eccleston. I barely took note, though apparently it was well received by the critics. The special effects had come a long way too, far from the baggy suited rubber monsters of the days of the previous doctors. Doctor Who once again had a following. Eccleston however decided that once season was enough, and called it quits. So he regenerated, into the Tenth Doctor.

Matt Smith (11) and David Tennant (10) as the Doctor

This regeneration was played by David Tennant, who took the role and ran with it. With the possible exception of Baker, Tennant was the most popular Doctor. As each regeneration has been different, Tennant’s Doctor had more emotion and energy than most of the others (he even found love, though never really to be, with a campanion, Rose). Tennant would be the Doctor that I would start watching last fall. All good things come to an end though, and Tennant regenerated into the 11th Doctor in January. 11 will be played by Matt Smith, the youngest to play the Doctor (26, Davison was 29). I’ve caught up with almost all the Tennant episodes, and have downloaded some Eccleston episodes too (maybe this weekend . . . ). I’ve also come to realize that I missed a great three years with Davison (feel bad about it actually), and I look forward to catching up. What can I say, I have a renewed obsession. What a nerd!

Exterminate!

As some of you know, I’ve spent some time on this site complaining about the city. The crony-ism sucks, the huge sales tax sucks, the unfriendly and uncaring people in my neighborhood suck, and of course winter sucks. This time of the year, after new years until about May, is the worst. Winter becomes painful – painfully cold, painfully dirty, painfully ugly. People are hidden away until Spring and save a few quiet gatherings or concerts, don’t see much of each other at all. Some of the lucky ones escape someplace warm or to someplace where the snow serves a better purpose than turning gray and collecting cigarette butts.

This morning it dawned on me. What this city needs is a big winter festival. Maybe late January, early February. Something that would bring out crowds. Something with restaurants involved, and big performances. Something that celebrated our cold and awful winters, made use of them. Of course the usual, skating ice sculpting, maybe a run or a sled race would be involved. Think of it as a Taste of Chicago for the winter. Something to mark time between New Years and the onset of Spring. From Anchorage on down to Missouri, there is seems to be some sort of winter festival. For example, Madison. Quebec does it right, and it’s a bit colder up there. Even those damn Twins fans do it in St. Paul …. and so many more.

So why not? We have plenty of pent up people, raring to get out. Sure beats the alternative right?

Today we lost a dear friend. Japhy went on to meet with Babette. I hope somewhere they are enjoying themselves. We miss them so much. Anyway, I can’t bring myself to write out a narrative about his life or about the way we feel (terrible. More than terrible, gut-wrenchingly awful), so I jotted down some random thoughts into some sort of pseudo-poem.

Golden haired champion!
Mixed-breed of an unknown home
Spending his first few months on the hard-scrabble streets of Urbana
A hero came into my life over 14 years ago
Suffering with bouts of pneumonia and kennel cough
(so bad it left his nose scabbed for some time)
Never complaining though, and always toughing it out.
Warm, loyal and loving, a sensitive gentleman
Always talkative and ever the outdoorsman
He loved a walk, loved a stick
I named him Japhy, for the aloof all-knowing Dharma Bum Snyder
(My dog too was Bodhisattva kind, enlightened and sharing of himself instead of reaching Nirvana)
So incredibly patient and well-behaved
(He once stayed in the house, mistake free, while I flew to Detroit and back)

He was the remaining link to younger days spent in hipster dwellings in Bucktown and Wicker Park
He was also our link to those who have left us
To Shaba
To Mickey
To his sweet love Babette (for whom I knew his heart ached this past year)
With the latter, part of a family that we built daily stories around,
Of the animals stealing the car
(the wicked cat always at the wheel)
Having adventures while we worked and slept
For 14 years a structure of life was built around this wonderful dog
Lunches were spent running home,
-no matter the distance,
To take Japhy and Babette out,
To say hello for a moment
It was never a pain. Never.
Though I’m sure I griped from time to time,
I would take it all back, for another day.
(I’m not sure what I’m going to do at lunch anymore. Maybe throw up)
It was over five years ago when diabetes set in.
Lesser dogs would have given up
He looked forward to insulin shots (it meant dinner was not far behind)
Even the blindness that creeps into a diabetic’s life was little match for this dog.
He learned to master his way around the house, albeit at a much slower pace.
He was the one constant in my life, before anyone, before any job or home either.
He was always there.
He really was my hero, and he always will be.
I just wish he was my hero here.
I wish he could stick around for Cecilie, to meet her brother too
We’re going to miss him so much (we already do)

7 Years ago I started at the Belgravia Group, Ltd. Times were tough. The dot-com bubble had burst and once plentiful jobs dried up to nothing. I wanted to work, wanted to get back into it. I was lucky enough to have a neighbor in real estate. Someone he knew was looking for an admin. I asked for a chance and got the position. The agreement was that since I was overqualified I would stay for a year and not take off as soon as the next tech job arose. I’m so thankful that I was given the opportunity. It didn’t take me long to make the job my own and plot a course for myself, ending up as IT manager (the ONLY IT person for a 30-plus person company). The company was good to me. I made friends, learned plenty and have tons of great memories. 1 year turned into 7.

Today I left the Belgravia Group. The time had come to move on, back to full time tech. Changing jobs is an exciting and frightening time. If the people at TBI are half as great as the ones at Belgravia, I’ll be in wonderful shape.

You have always been somewhat of a hero to me. You survived being a puppy on the streets. You survived early bouts with pneumonia and kennel cough. You’ve lived with diabetes for the last 4 years. Creaky, a little cranky and now mostly blind, you press on, happy with a rub and a bowl of food.

We love you Japhy!

I’ve mostly given up running. It’s fallen to last place on the exercise list, behind swimming, biking and weights. Though I plan on picking it up again once it gets cold, running has been mostly an afterthought the last two weeks. It took me 9 years, but I burned out. The old man legs and the sheer boredom of the treadmill didn’t help either.

What I have enjoyed is biking. I like the scenery. I like the work, though it doesn’t leave me anywhere near as sore as running. I like the distance I cover.

The only obstacle I find is time. It would seem to me that I get more exercise in less time with running, though this may be a fallacy. I usually have an hour a day to exercise, a little more if I’m lucky. I worry that I’m not getting the same thing out of biking than I would from running 4 miles or swimming 2 (Swimming by the way remains my favorite form of exercise). I’m sure some of my biking friends out there might know how it breaks down.

The other issue I have with biking is that it is a tad difficult, ok – scary, riding in the city. People in cars don’t seem to care. They’ll get close. They’ll turn in front of you. They’ll blow off stop signs. It sucks. I try to follow the rules of the road, but I have no trust of people in cars. As a result, most of my rides are off in the direction of the suburbs. I don’t feel too much safer there (some busy streets, often no sidewalks for quick escapes), but I like it better than the city.

I wear a helmet. In my younger days, I would have never even thought of it, and I still think that I look like a giant walking (riding) penis with a bike helmet on. But I have a family, and too much to live for, so I keep my helmet on for them. They need to come up with better designs!

And finally, why do my hands get so numb after a while? I swear when I am on my way back both of my arms are asleep

Micro-blogging
Life-streaming
Facebook
Twitter
All of this eats into web sites like this and (I’d imagine) many others like it too. I try my darnedest to keep up with it, but damn it, posting a ten second update on Twitter is a whole lot easier!
When I get my act together, I can figure out how to post all of our twitter and facebook pages here too, which should help breath life into snoori.com.
Regardless, in fits and starts I press on.

Alcohol can ravage a person. It can tear apart families, friends, destroy lives.

I have a friend through work, let’s call him Ernie. Ernie is a wonderful guy. He’ll help you at the drop of a hat, be it something work related (“Hey Ernie, can you meet the cleaning company at the sales center and walk them through the facilities?”) or even personal (he’s helped me and others move furniture into our homes). Never a question asked, never a fee or reward asked for.

Ernie also had a terrible secret that he kept from us for years. Ernie had a terrible drinking problem. Looking back, I’m sure there were signs – shaking hands, tiredness, occasional periods where he would disappear – all of which should have told us there was something wrong. But it played into his busy lifestyle. In addition, there was a period before things got out of hand where he was working out like a fiend and using supplements. Seemed like life was normal for Ernie.

About a year ago, Ernie had some trouble at home. Someone close to him got sick, and as the primary caregiver, it took its toll on Ernie. He came to work more tired. His disappearances became more frequent. Some of his other co-workers whispered about speaking to him and that he was “out of it.” I didn’t believe it and continued to believe his stories about how he had no help at home and that he was always up taking care of things.

Then Ernie’s body started to breakdown. He lost a lot of weight. The muscle he had built up began to sag. The bags under his eyes became permanent fixtures. When I would see him, he would ramble on about home and his own health, often repeating things many times. He came to work beat up (said “he fell”). He was a ghost of his former self. Mostly, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. We all did. We all played along.

Then one morning I saw him at work and everything finally changed. He couldn’t talk coherently and he could barely stand. I sent him home, before any bosses could see the state he was in. He stayed out of sight mostly for the next two weeks. Then one day he called me. He was a mess, though I don’t think he knew it. He said he was running late because something happened at home. I told him not to bother. That day I changed the security codes at our office, and made arrangements to have the locks changed. I spoke to the people in charge and it was decided that he would be let go. I went from feeling bad for Ernie to feeling angry, lied to and betrayed. For the next two days, Ernie went missing. He never called anyone back. Never picked up the phone. He finally called me one morning and asked if the codes had been changed. I told him yes and that he needed to speak to the boss. He asked about his job and I told Ernie that we were worried about him and that getting better is what he needs to focus on. I told him he was destroying his life. It was freaking hell.

That day Ernie was let go. He was remorseful but understood (sort of).

This Monday I heard from his friend that he was in the hospital. He went on a bender after he was let go. His brother found him unresponsive. He’s still there now. Honestly I wish he could stay there for 6 months, so he could be taken care of, and be away from booze. I want to call him but to be honest I’m nervous because I feel like I let him down. I also worry that unless he’s really honest with himself (and most drunks aren’t) he’ll think that I am somehow the reason for him being in this situation.

There have been situations in the past where people I know have had problems, but I was shielded from the effects mostly (an uncle with a problem, for example). This one was a lot more graphic. Addiction is a terrible thing. It is a sickness that for many there is no cure. I hope every day that Ernie can pull himself out of it. It’s a long, terrible road.