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Maybe
one
of
the
reasons
I am such a fiend for swimming is I don't do too
well in the heat. That's one reason why I was a lifeguard back in the
day
on Long Island. I don't care how hot it is, just take me to the water
and I'll be fine. Today there would be no swimming. Sarah was giving
away flour as part of the Milwaukee Avenue Arts Festival in Logan
Square, a gentrifying hipster enclave in the heart of Chicago. It was
in the 90s and hella humid. I hadn't slept much all week thanks to
flimsy motel walls and too much caffeine for those late afternoon
pushes. Maybe I'm just delicate. I wilted in the oppressive heat and
got a little cranky. I knew just what I needed, but all the bars had
that newly renovated feeling, staffed by high-attitude, low-service
'tenders. I finally found a promising
place with an "Absolutely No
Colors Inside" warning taped to the door. Inside it was all old-timers
and $2 schooners of beer. Got into a long conversation about music with
the guy next to me who couldn't believe I DJ 45s when I hadn't heard
of this or that song from his storied past. After two little beers the
third one was free. I've been in Seattle so long I'd forgotten there
was such a thing as a buyback. There's something nice about it which
goes beyond money. After that, 2 liters of water, and an hour
or more in the AC I was ready to go out and face the heat. For some odd
reason, Sarah loves this weather and there she was giving food away
with a smile. |
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