days of rage

this sounds like a perfect way to spend an hour next thursday evening, if you happen to live in chicago. an experimental audio theater piece about revolution and tigers! it's co-presented by the public square at the illinois humanities council and the TCIAF.

Thursday, November 3
Shows at 6:00 pm and 8:00 pm.
1420 N. Lake Shore Dr., Apt 11B
Space is limited to 34 people per show, so please register right away! Reservations are REQUIRED and can be made at 312.422.5580 or events@thepublicsquare.org. Please be sure to specify "Days of Rage" and the time of the show you plan to attend.

DAYS OF RAGE is an audio performance for small audiences which combines headphones, speakers, and live piano.

During the weekend of October 10, 1969, the radical left wing Weatherman organization (later the Weather Underground) brought their Days of Rage to Chicago, promising to bring thousands of participants from all over the country to violently protest America's involvement in Vietnam, to support the efforts of the Black Panthers (who did not endorse the Days of Rage), and potentially to spark a violent revolution against the U. S. capitalist establishment. Instead of the thousands they had predicted, only a couple of hundred people showed up. They made some speeches, destroyed a modest amount of property in both affluent and working class neighborhoods, and were beaten by the police.

DAYS OF RAGE takes place in present day New York City and follows several twentysomethings as they plan their own violent revolt while trying to pick up girls, make t-shirts, learn how to leave the house, get high on opium, and prevent the tiger in the bedroom from escaping.

the sound of a happy city

ok, what sort of chicagoland-based-person-
who-keeps-an-online-journal would i be if i didn't post something tonight about the white sox claiming GREATNESS as the world champions of baseball just a couple hours ago? (actually, i don't quite understand the 'world champion' claim. but am willing to roll with it.)

what's more relevant to this particular online journal is an observation i made while riding my bike home from watching the game on tv with some friends. as soon as the victory was sealed, the streets of chicago erupted in sound, with honking cars parading across the city and whooping of all sorts tossed from balconies lining the streets. someone saw a car pull into the gas station nearby, open each door and blast 'We are the Champions' for all in the surrounding two-block radius to hear. not very original, i agree, but the point is - people are ecstatic here in chicago tonight. we _are_ the champions.

but what i really want to point out is how different a car horn can sound, depending on the context in which it's being employed. though one might (understandably) associate the sound of a honking car with irritation, impatience or a near-death experience, tonight's honking was all about the love. tonight's honkers were joyful, electrified, drunk, giddy, empowered and all the rest of the emotions many feel when the really good guy wins the really big game. i was even somehow drawn into the fervor (yes, it was a fervor) during my bike ride home, and rang my bicycle bell at every chance in solidarity with the rest of the whooping revelers.

brrrrrinngg. brrrrrrringggg.
(see earlier post about spelling sounds....)

'i just want some silence'

i'm quoting my 5 yr. old nephew.

we were driving home from dinner at the Unexceptional Family Restaurant, and he and his cousin/my niece were easily having the most puzzling conversation i've overheard in a long time.

(my niece was clutching her alien-man balloon which had been twisted and pumped into existence by the Balloon Lady at the restaurant. rather than bring his with, my nephew lost all interest in his own alien-man balloon right around the time the waitress delivered the wrong check, and in fact asked me to pop it for him in the parking lot. i ask you, what are aunts for??)

so as i'm driving along, nephew and niece launch into this conversation about Who They Know. he lives in akron, she lives in philadelphia. she knows a few people in chicago, he knows _everyone_ in chicago. they may not know him, but he knows them. she points out he must be lying, he takes great offense and begins to turn away from the conversation, and to ask, repeatedly, for us to be quiet. 'i just want some silence. i just want it to be silent.' over and over.

blanket over head helped cut out our chatter, and gave him some peace of mind, and in that moment i wanted it to be silent - thick, dense and true, as much as he did, even as we sang along to the tune about the crocodile, performed by the eight year old girl, in german. he gave up, and joined us during that catchy chorus.

later, hours after the kiddos said goodnight i took a walk outside with the dog. stargazed. thought about growing up in ohio. enjoyed the silence.