Roll with It

 “When life is too much,

Roll with it, baby

Don’t stop and lose your touch

Oh, no, baby.”

    Steve Winwood

WXRT’s Saturday morning show featured the year 1988, and I heard great songs by John Hiatt, Graham parker, and the Traveling Wilburys.  I must still have been buying albums because I had several that they mentioned, including Tracy Chapman’s self-titled debut and Steve Winwood’s “Roll With It.”

At Chesterton’s European Market I ran into IUN Biology professor Spencer Cortwright and Home Mountain CEO Larry Klemz, still wearing a breathing device but with a nice woman friend.  Last time I saw him he was in poor health, having taken the death of his wife really hard.  I bought two tacos from the folks who clean our condo.  Last week business was slow, but because I waited till noon, the line was long – inconvenient for me but I’m glad their fine food is popular.  During the 30-minute wait, I listened to a guitar-playing duo.

Almost a million people showed up for Chicago’s Pride (formerly Gay Pride) Parade, including Mayor Rahm Emanuel, servicemen in uniform, and a true cast of characters.  Anne Balay reported having a great time.  Stephanie Dowell of the Sun-Times took the photos above.

Because I lost the first three board games, I got to pick the fourth, Priests of Ra, and got so far ahead, thanks to wise use of my bidding numbers and some good luck, that I accepted a concession from Dave and Tom.  Dave has been attending many high school graduation parties and mentioned that student David Bork was flattered to find a photo of him and Dave on my blog that he had posted on Facebook.

Carrol Vertrees’s weekly column mentioned things that make him tear up, including memories of his father and activities of his grandchildren.  I thought of that when again attending “You’re a Good Man, Charley Brown,” this time with the Hagelbergs.  James was even more animated than last time as Schroeder and Becca brought down the house belting out “Good Night My Someone” from “Music Man.”  I even got emotional when Lucas Reinhart, still dressed as Snoopy,” sang “Gary, Indiana.”  As poet John Sheehan wrote, “O Gary, heart of our mixed up country, I love you now and forever.”

I happened to come across “America’s Got Talent,” with shock jock Howard Stern on the panel of judges with Howie Mandel and Ozzie Osbourne’s wife Sharon.  A fantastic Puerto Rican dance group called 787 did a routine that reminded me of cheerleaders on speed.  Then a buxom, overweight blond dedicated a number to Howard, who afterwards leaped on stage and danced with her.  The freak show element blended well with the format, and the variety and quality of the acts was in stark contrast to “American Idol,” which I haven’t watched in years.

Muslim Brotherhood candidate Mohamed Morsi is the new Egyptian president.  So many of his supporters were in the streets of Cairo that all hell would have broken loose if the pro-Mubarak candidate was declared the winner.  The ruling military council has attempted to strip the office of most of its power, so an air of uncertainty remains.

A tropical storm has caused flooding in Florida and affected nieces Mary Ann and Charlene and their families, one in Punta Gorda and the other in Tampa.  And possibly the worst is yet to come.  Meanwhile, out west forest fires are decimating thousands of acres.

In June of 1896 Harvard awarded educator Booker T. Washington an honorary degree and asked him to be the featured speaker at a luncheon afterwards.  According to the diary of Marian Lawrence Peabody, her father William Lawrence saw Washington leaving commencement in a direction opposite the luncheon site and called out for him to “come this way.”  Harvard had also conferred a degree to the president of Vanderbilt, and Washington replied that the Southerners in attendance might take offense at eating with a black man.  So Booker found something to eat in Harvard Square and then showed up to speak and received “tremendous applause.”

A Linda Tropp, who grew up in Miller, wanted information on Jake’s Department Store on 21^st and Broadway, which her grandfather started and her father inherited.  She writes: “As a young kid (early 1970s), I remember helping to organize rows of toiletries at the store and seeing people come in to cash their checks from the mills.  But beyond that, I have very little knowledge about the store or how it interfaced with the local community.”  She lives in Massachusetts but will be visiting Gary in August. The store was located in what became the Central District, where African Americans lived and shopped.  I told her about my Gary book and suggested she check out the city directories when she visits the archives.

Lunched on a homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwich, sweet pickles and carrots, chips, milk, and a cookie.  I took Toni to a rehab place in Valpo that treats folks with COPD and came across an NRA magazine in the waiting room that had a scurrilous anti-Obama editorial.  When nobody was looking, I threw it in the trash.  Toni prepared a tremendous dinner of tilapia, pan fried noodles, tomatoes and Brussel sprouts – my last before flying to Palm Springs CA for my mother’s ninety-sixth birthday.