Speaking of the Chicago transit funding debacle

I remember reading last year about how there are only two transit systems in the world that actually operate in the black. Unfortunately, I can't figure out where that article is now, so I'm not sure which cities they are. I believe they are Tokyo and Hong Kong.

Fortunately, the identity of the cities is not important. The way they pay for their public transit is. Two words: real estate.

The model works thusly: The transit system owns plenty of the land within walking distance of its train stations, develops said land into apartments, condos, offices and retail, then pumps most of the profits back into the transit system. It's a self-perpetuating cycle. The transit attracts the development, the development then attracts more riders to the transit.

Chicago would do well to copy this strategy wherever possible. Obviously the CTA doesn't own much land near its stations, but some properties must be ripe for the building. The empty lot next to where the CTA is going to build the new Paulina station would be an excellent place for a new restaurant with offices above it. If they soundproof the building well enough they could even build apartments.

And the CTA isn't the only agency that could take advantage of this. I walk by METRA's Ogilvie Transportation Center every day on the way to work. It takes up a few city blocks in the West Loop, which is supposedly growing. How hard would it be to build a new office tower on top of the train station? Perhaps even condos and/or a hotel above the offices, with a great view of the skyline and the Chicago river.

Dunkin Donuts stands in the subway just aren't going to cut it. Even Chicago can eat only so many Boston Creams.

This is a city that reversed the course of a river just because it could. Plus, Chicago is known for its innovative architecture, and this would be an excellent challenge to some of the city's best firms.

And it would keep my 30 day passes from jumping to $84 a month.

Where's the Bumblebee Man and the Dancing Girls?

Speaking of cable, why is it that CNN en Espanol is so much better than CNN en ingles?

There was a time, and yes I'm old enough to remember, when CNN was the channel you watched for real news. Having lived without cable for about half a decade, I was surprised by just how ridiculous and angry it's become. The pundits shout and hawk their books, the news is all Paris Hilton and car crashes, and the morning anchor's legs get more air time than the actual news.

At the same time, CNN en Espanol is serious, produces in-depth stories, covers news from around the world and touches on important issues. Nothing like the news on Univision, with Walter Mercado's drag act, the dancing girls on the sports shows -- that's Spanish news. Right?

The folks in Atlanta need to learn some Spanish and start watching their canale hermana for some tips on how to do a news broadcast.

A la Carte Cable

Over the summer we had the chance to watch a lot of cable in the basement in Cornbob, and when looking into what kind of internet to get in Chicago, we happened upon a billboard touting a deal on cable.

And so for the last month or so we've been alternatelty surfing the web and wondering why we're paying for 90 channels we don't really watch.

So what the hell ever happened to this whole cable a la carte program the FCC was all giddy about last year or so? The only thing that any agency run by the Bush administration has done that I actually agree with is meeting the same success as the war.

Right now we're paying for about 90 channels, but only watch 10 at most. But there are other channels out there I'd like to have, but don't. So why can't I just pay for the channels I want to watch?

Those other 80 channels are just a bunch of freeloaders, hoping that my love of those 10 channels will be enough to subsidize their terrible programming. If I could pay just for the channels I want, I might actually watch more TV. In fact, there might even be more channels I like, since they'd all have to compete for audiences instead of just riding on the coattails of those dozen or so channels that don't suck.

I don't suppose RCN wants to be that first company to stick its neck out.

How many candles?

So it was recently made known to me that I am actually not 28 years old as I had thought, but rather 29.

I'm not really sure how I managed to forget this particular fun fact about myself, but it does make a lot more sense, since being born in 1978 would mean I hit a nice, round 10 every year that ends in 8.

So somehow I managed to lose a whole year, which seems about par for the course, since we seem to keep losing things around here. Some photos, some clothes, 365 days, a few really nice pens.

I don't know how to approach this whole 30 thing. It's the new 20, but I was kind of a screw up in my early 20s, so maybe that makes this a do-over decade? Is the fact that I lost a year proof of my old age, or just more evidence of my clumsly record-keeping?

Yeah, when you turn 30 it really makes you start to think about things ...

Weather Watch

Well, forget what I said about it getting cold in Chicago already. It's, like, 84 degrees out and I'm wearing shorts. We even turned the air conditioner back on for the first time in about a week and a half.

This time last week I was pulling my sweaters out of storage.

But this too shall pass, and we'll begin to see the real Chicago fall. The weather can't fool us. We'll begin looking for our new arctic coats this weekend. Until then, it's good to walk around under those bright blue skies and think, "I love Chicago!"

For now.

Big Weekend part 2: Uff-Dah!

With the DMV behind us, we made the long drive even further from home, past the city limits out into the mysterious nether regions of the Chicagoland Suburbs. Our goal was to reach the blue and yellow Swedish mecca of inexpensive-yet-quality furnishings.

It had been about 3 years or so since our last trip to IKEA, that time in White Marsh, MD, and we had finally managed to forget how overwhelming it can be. We were ready.

The big blue box called to us as the Prius wound its way through the maze of highways. We were ready to be amazed by the Swedish technology and elegantly functional design. We gazed, stupifyed, at the escalators made FOR YOUR SHOPPING CART. Seriously, the Nordic peoples are far ahead of us in retail technology. We must overtake them or face destru -- hey, cool, it looks like a whole apartment in here!

What? Oh, it's crowded too. Those Swedes may make cool furniture and warm bedding, but they pack it all in so tight that no one can get around with a shopping cart. The circular design of the multilevel store had the look of a modern, cosmopolitan, Eurpoean version of the circles of Hell.

You need a plan when you go to IKEA. (Folks in the Charlotte area, keep this in mind when the new one opens.) If you don't know exactly what you want, you'll end up buying all sorts of things. We did well on that part. Not having much money also helps. What we didn't figure on was a plan of attack. We just wandered aimlessly amid the artful wall hangings, functional-yet-stylish kitchenware and other fine things while getting progressively more anxious until giving up to eat Swedish apple cake.

Thus refreshed, we bought an excellent new comforter that will defintely keep us warm this winter (It's really three in one, awesome!), a knife and collander and a really nice kitchen table. We then merely had to wait through a line at the register rivaled only by those at the DMV we;d just left before being able to cart our things to the car and make the long, long journey back home on overcroweded toll roads.

There are some other things we'd like to get at IKEA, and we just found an coupon we'd meant to bring with us. Maybe in a year we'll be up to the task. I do like that table, though.

Big Weekend part I: What's the yellow circle mean?

It is official. We woke up early on Saturday, gathered all the pertinent paperwork, and a little extra just in case, and drove out to the Chicago West Illinois DMV office to finally make ourselves legal.

We'd been living in the state of Illinois sin documentos since August. Really, though, we meant to go to the DMV right away, but I kinda sorta lost the NC car title, and we had to write a check, fill out a form, get it notarized and wait 3 weeks for the NC DMV to send us a copy of the NC title so we could turn it in to pay more money to get a new Illinois title.

Oh, and the matter of the driver's licenses. What fun!

We expected a mob scene like at the Mondawmin Mall DMV office in Baltimore, and the line was discouraging. But then we got hearded into a shorter line being formed just for tag and title, and things proceeded quickly under the guidance of loud and unhelpful employees who wouldn't answer questions. So far, shitty, but typical.

But then we entered into a -- relatively -- well-oiled machine that included at least a few surprisingly pleasant cogs. Like the woman who advised me on what kind of coat to wear for a Chicago winter, or the woman who politely refused to tell me which one of us did better on the written driver's test.

One thing we learned is that if one of the multiple choice answers is "All of the Above," that's the one -- no matter what the DMV book says.

We have moved six times in the last seven years and have, consequently, had to go to a lot of DMV offices. I can say for sure that, despite the long lines and other rude employees, the Illinois DMV is pretty efficient. Normally only about a quarter of the workstations at a DMV office are open, but every single one had someone in it. Now, it's up to God or the fates or some mystical force whether you walk up to the one with the the cheerful employee or the deranged one, but at least it's fast -- well, faster.

Red means stop.

It's just been over a month since we moved to Chicago, and it was nice at first to see all the people biking around the city. Getting exercise, cutting down on pollution -- what's not to love? I've always tried to be careful when driving near bikers, and I support adding bike lanes to city streets.

But after just a few days of watching bike riders flying through red lights and stop signs, weaving in and out of traffic and nearly getting themselves killed or causing accidents -- I'm not so sure.

Bike riders complain all the time about how they don't get any respect, how they want to be treated like any other drivers on the road. Well, when it suits them, anyway.

You can't act like a driver one second and a pedestrian the next. Follow the rules of the road, or walk like the rest of us.

Old Man Winter's on his w-- oh wait. He's here

What happened? I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt yesterday, and all of a sudden it's freezing cold this morning. I figured we'd have at least a few good weeks of that nice, warmish-cool weather here in Chicago -- the kind when you turn off the AC and open some windows, but still wear sandals outside.

Well, boy. I ain't from around here. According to some co-workers, this is pretty much how the seasons are in the Windy City (did I mention it's also windy?). One day it's hot, the next it's cold.

Very efficient, really. If only there had been a little warning, though.

Dog Days at Montrose Beach

I'm not sure how things ended up this way, but we actually had to move several hundred miles futher inland in order for Kayla to finally go to the beach. Chicago may not let people legally bring their dogs to outdoor cafes yet, but there are several dog parks throughout the city.

Quality varies from tiny paved squares next to the L tracks to the dog beach at Montrose, sectioned off from the people beach to the south. I don't know if it was simply the Labor Day holiday or if the dog beach is always this popular, but it was crowded.

Considering her shy, homeschoolgirl act whenever we've taken her to other dog parks, I figured that the sheer number of dogs would once again intimidate her into sticking by us. Instead, Kayla ran and jumped and even swam just a bit in the lake.

Maybe she's always been waiting to go to the beach.