Immigrants

Joan and Elsa

 My friend Elaine had a story about her immigrant family published in the Chicago Sun Times.  It includes a great picture of the family who came to America generations ago.  I am fortunate to have a more immediate immigrant in my life.  Elsa Mora came here from Cuba when she married Bill.  She has enriched my life with her stories and her perspective.  

The men who work in my garage are from Mexico and Africa.  We've gotten to know each other over the years.  They make moments of my everyday life more interesting.

My cardiologist is from Romania.  He loved it when I told him about Bill making a movie in his home country.

Diversity, inclusion, immigration are some of the most positive notions I can imagine.  I appreciate the Sun Times helping to spread this word around right now. 

 

Twice Told

 Natalie is graduating from college and is going off to a new beginning.   My college graduation felt like an ending.  I loved college,  The classes and the friends.  Could anything going forward be as great?

I didn’t have any family members coming to the ceremony so I wasn’t planning to attend.  But one of the girls in the sorority was also alone so I went to keep her company.  Later we went to a few parties.

As I was leaning in to say goodbye to a friend, the car door swung suddenly against my nose.  It really hurt.  And it hurt driving all the way back to Detroit.  It was broken.

Yes, my graduation was a breakup.  All the way.

Now I am back at Northwestern taking classes for oldsters.  Some of the same buildings are there, plus lots of new ones.  The sorority house is long gone, but my college roommate (who remains a best friend) lives on the same street where all of us gals once lived together.

Sometimes broken things come back together again…just in a different way.

200 Hundred Years

 1976.  The Bicentennial Year.  On July 4th Kathy and Jerry hosted a fabulous party.   The invitation said:  Do Something You Would Do Only Once Every 200 Years.

Phyllis played the kazoo.  Gertrude gave a rousing political speech.  Annette unleashed her psychic powers as a fortune teller.  She foretold Mitzi’s husband’s early death, but, of course, didn't tell (except to me.)

That fall Len and I dropped Bill off at college in Connecticut and drove up the coast towards Boston.  I became obsessed with taking a detour to see Plymouth Rock.  Having done no research, I was convinced it was a promontory easily spied by the Mayflower.

The Rock was a large stone displayed in an enclosure with greek columns.  Young people wore pilgrim costumes and sold trinkets.

Boston’s celebration was much more dignified and stuck to the familiar stories. I was grateful to be in the town where it happened.

Cinnamon Forever

 

Do you remember the old Ann Sathers on Belmont?  When it was a little storefront?  When Ann, who was a tall, scandinavian looking woman, would greet us at the door.? The waitresses were older ladies who looked like they could be Ann’s sisters.  One big family.

Bill loved the chicken.  We all loved the pies.  Everything was delicious.  Jay’s mother ate there everyday with her boss.

When Ann died the new owners closed the small space and took over the funeral parlor next door.  It seemed creepy, but that’s only us old-timers speaking.

Ann would have been so ashamed of this: during the pandemic, the politician who owns the restaurant was caught secretly serving his buddies.  They called it the “Cinnamon Roll Scandal.”

The Ann Sathers on Belmont is still there and there’s another one near me on Granville and Broadway.  I had a “notorious” cinnamon roll just the other day.

San Francisco

Melvin Belli

 Natalie is going to live in San Francisco after she graduates in June.  Here's a San Francisco story I remember well.

Jay and I went to Los Angeles for a Trial Lawyers convention.  At the opening cocktail party someone came up to me and asked: “Would you like to meet Melvin Belli?”  I didn’t know who Melvin Belli was but I said “sure.”

When Jay and his partner Joe Cohen saw who I was with, they came right over.  They certainly knew of “The King of Torts.”  Belli had a long list of celebrity clients.  And he took his place in American history by defending Jack Ruby after he shot Lee Harvey Oswald.

Belli practiced in San Francisco.  He was top dog in that town.  “You have to come up after the Convention.  I’ll show you a great time.”  And so a group of us drove up the Coast.  Belli came through for us splendidly.  

One young attorney who worked for Belli was particularly friendly and made sure we were treated royally wherever we went. Years later I noticed his name in the headlines.  He was with Jayne Mansfield when they both died in a fatal car crash.

Tears of a Fan

 Jerry Reinsdorf is so bad for Chicago he should be run out of town.  I’ll hoist the first pitchfork if you’ll join me.   The owner of the White Sox and Bulls has robbed our town of our joy.  The joy of looking forward to a new season (White Sox) or coming to the close of an exciting regular season (Bulls).  

The reason is simple: Reinsdorf won’t spend the money to field decent teams. So Sell.  You came here, you made tons of profit, take it and leave.   Okay, I understand that today’s crop of billionaires may not be ideal owners either. But I’ll settle for a few years of winning before I turn on them.

I’m starting my baseball class again in March.  We’re reading a collection of stories by the great Roger Angell.  I know I’ll love the book and the discussion, but I would so like to be able to add an exciting trip to the park.

Can-America?

 Trump is threatening to invade Canada and declare it as the “51st State.”  So, here’s an idea:  how about California, Oregon, and Washington declare that they are now Canadian Provinces.  Maybe Maine and Vermont too.

Here are some very good reasons for the move.  Government funded universal health care.  Abortion rights.  Strict gun laws.  Free education.

OK, you say.  That looks good.  But, we don’t want all that British stuff all over again.  So maybe we can strike a deal.  We’ll get the benefits of an enlightened Canadian government and we’ll acknowledge Prince Harry.  Because he already lives in California!

(Worse downside:  hockey will never replace football.)