Hot Flashes? Seriously?

For anyone I haven't already spilled the beans to yet, I am now officially a salaried writer at BuzzFlash. I even have health insurance for the first time in years!

Anyway, I wrote this essay as part of an application for a writing job awhile back, so I thought I'd share it with you all. The assignment was to write 500 words about hot flashes, believe it or not. I mostly just applied because I like writing challenges... So, here it is for your non-commercial enjoyment:

I've changed quite a bit over my 26 years on this earth. But the one thing that has remained constant is my hatred of winter.

Although my last move technically was southward, I wouldn't say it's much of a weather improvement. In fact, I remember saying as a teen that I'd never move to Chicago, because it was too windy for my tastes. The gusty downtown corridors made me feel even tinier than I already was. Add that to the big shoulders, and you get a "Hey, no thanks."

Yet, here I am. And if I've learned anything about Chicago, it's this: rather than the Land of Lincoln, it's the realm of sideways frozen rain.

You may wonder why I don't just haul off to warmer climes. Well, I tried, but I found that I like what this weather does to the size of both insects and arachnids. I also look terrible in shorts. Furthermore, I don't think I could give up on the amiable Midwestern personality that surrounds me here, fostered by mutual suffering.

I saw an ad for clothes with little built-in heaters on the El the other day, and considered the innovation for a moment. But wearing a battery seems silly, and might interfere with my pacemaker, should I ever decide to get one.

Then, I remembered talking to this middle-aged woman at a chiropractic clinic at which I used to work. She was cranky about her hot flashes, especially because of the 90 degree weather we were currently enduring and her broken car air conditioner.

Then, the epiphany. Of course! Hot flashes are the answer. They're totally natural, carbon neutral and above all, good and toasty.

According to a recent study by the University of Illinois at Chicago, hot flashes do have the drawback of decreases in memory performance. But I'm sure I'll forget all about that in time. Also, hot flashes have the side effect of producing sweat, but that may be my solution to dry winter skin. Some women complain that hot flashes cause insomnia, but I find that sleep often interferes with both my work and play schedules, so that might be a hidden benefit for me as well. And who doesn't love rosy cheeks?

Now the problem of procurement. The average age of menopause is 51, so I've got two decades and some change to go. Hot flashes are thought to be exacerbated by hot drinks and food, caffeine, chocolate, alcohol and spicy food, all products I've been known to enjoy. On the other hand, soy products are thought to reduce the chances a woman will get hot flashes, and I'm not giving up my Tofutti.

Ah well. All good things come to those who wait. So, whether it be springtime or menopause, I'll just have to keep wearing long underwear and ski masks until it arrives.

Thank you for riding the CTA

It was my first day back to work in about two weeks today, and what I really missed is rush hour. Thankfully, the CTA spiced it up for me by increasing both incompetence and fares while I was away.

My morning ride was pretty uneventful, other than a delayed Red Line train and a strangely unidentifiable smell in the Jackson tunnel (usually the stench is unmercifully familiar).

My evening commute was really a treat, however. In transferring to the Red Line from the Blue Line, I noted the tell-tale sign of another delayed train: the platform was so crowded as to be nearly impassable. Then, the overhead speakers sounded a note much like a phone ringing. An effeminate man's voice came over the loudspeakers:

"Attention CTA riders: At this time, all trains are running on time. We thank you for your business."

OK, not only is that statement a near impossibility with the sheer number of rush hour trains running coupled with the ineffectiveness of the CTA in general, but from the exasperation issued from the platform crowd, clearly not true.

When the train finally arrived, I was lucky to squish in. The frustrated young woman running my particular train kept screaming to the would-be passengers trying to squeeze onto the crowded cars that "there is an immediate follower," something that clearly contradicted the vaguely homosexual voice that issued from the stations assuring us that all trains were running on time.

There were a few other unexplained delays, a blackout at Sheridan and an equipment failure at Berwyn. A woman behind me questioned the fare increase, saying to no one in particular, "We paid $2.50 for this??"

That, however, is the wrong question to ask. If the CTA's problems magically disappeared after a fair increase, we Chicagoans would surely be a happier bunch. For that day, at least. But six months or a year later, when Ron Huberman comes shuffling down the aisle asking for another fare increase, we would be incredulous. If only by their ineptitude, the CTA proves it needs our money.

I did not share this with the woman, as she did not seem interested in what she did not pay $2.50 for. Were I interested in engaging in conversation with strangers on public transportation, I might have said this:

"Do what the signs say, lady. Stand clear of the doors and thank your lucky stars they completed the 3-track operation. It could, and probably will, be worse."

Not another one!

I'm blogging for my course on international reporting at vox.com (a terrible blog site, fraught with unnecessary complications and glitches, which I do not recommend to anyone and am being forced to use for class).

It's a different subject each week, which means even more variable quality than what you're used to. If you do find it necessary to subject yourself to more of my trash, click here.

In other news: If I like you at all, I probably miss you, as I'm too busy to interact with the human race. So, take care of yourself, and I'll see you after graduation.

More Like a Whirlwhip

Holy bovine, I've been crazy busy. I'm writing my thesis and finishing my last semester of classes. I'm also working as the site editor at ChicagoTalks and I'm still working three days a week at BuzzFlash!

Apropos of nothing, is anyone else ridiculously excited about the fact that Halloween is on a Friday this year? I've already started planning the party. Notice to all out-of-town friends: let me know if you're going to be in Chicago this Halloween. Because you should really be partying at my place.

I promise I'll start blogging more after my heart attack.

Heir Show

Hello, all. Wanted to apologize for nearly abandoning my post (no pun intended) when it comes to blogging lately. However, if my news writing is not going to satisfy that burning desire you have to read my stuff, I wrote a blog-like piece for the Last Chance Democracy Cafe yesterday. Maybe you'd like to read it?

I'm calling a Time Out for Sheboygan

I read a really lame review of Sheboygan, WI today in Time Out Chicago. Not that the review was negative; it was just plain shoddy and superficial. As I began to bitch, I realized it was written by the editor-in-chief, Frank Sennett. Well, this guy should know better. So I wrote my first letter disapproving of a review:

Jesus Christ, man. If you're going to do a review, you might have to actually get out of your car/condo and do something. You made Sheboygan sound like the most boring little town ever. And it is, but in a really weird, interesting way. I don't usually send letters like this, but it makes me sad when a fellow journalist falls down on the job. And such a simple job it was! Were you hungover or something? Next time, hand the job to a hungry intern or newbie. They would probably love to get a free vacation to a funky, albeit dusty little Midwestern town. Thanks for once again reminding me why I'm not renewing my subscription to your lazy and increasingly elitist mag.

Meg White

P.S. In case you were wondering, I'm not from, nor have I ever lived in, Wisconsin or small-town America.

I'm mostly just posting this because I know this one won't make it into "Letters to the Editor."

News of the Meg

After weeks of fretting over obtaining a summer job, I landed a paid writing gig. I'm writing political news for buzzflash.org. I had my first day today, and I love it. The writing and editing staff is smart, funny and nurturing...and did I mention I'm getting paid to write?? My first article is posted. Bookmark the site; I should have new stuff up daily.

Endless thanks to all of you who believed in me when I didn't. You know who you are.

Get your kicks...

What CTA denizen dares to complain about transit these days? I like to call it cheap entertainment.

Scene: Clinton/Lake CTA stop, on the Green Line toward the loop. 12:30 p.m.
A grey-haired, lightly-bearded suit boards the train and, finding no one he'd like to sit next to, stands on the other side of the doorway. No, he hasn't heard if the Red Line northbound is re-routed today, but he wouldn't be surprised.
"The things I do to save gas," he says, shaking his head. He wishes me good luck, and gets off at the very next stop.

Scene: State/Lake Red Line Subway Station. 12:45 p.m.
A short, middle-aged man in dark slacks, a button-down and a vest stands next to a small boom box.
"Good afternoon, Chicago!" he says to lunchtime commuters on the platform. "I had to unbutton my vest, because I'm ready to fight!" He smiles so widely that no one looks like they believe a violent, headline-grabbing episode is about to unfold. Plus, a Chicago police officer and her K-9 are looking on.
He starts up the boom box, which plays "Eye of the Tiger." Just like his muse Sly in Rocky III, the man punches fiercely, connecting with the air on every beat, each hit accompanied by a spirited "Uh!"

Scene: Devon & Lakewood bus stop, WB. 5:40 p.m.
The green and white quilt with the stuffing coming out of one end looks strangely familiar. Not the blanket itself, mind you. I recognized the form it took at one end of the bus stop bench, like my quilt looks at the foot of my bed after being rudely awakened by an alarm clock. At least it's warm out now.

Countdown to cancellation

I've tried to cancel my Sun-Times subscription several times, but those darn call center people are so persuasive. So, in preparation for my phone conversation tomorrow, I thought I'd organize my thoughts (don't think this means I'm switching to the Chicago Tribune, either. The New York Times will have to do, at least for the summer).


Top ten reasons I'm canceling my Sun-Times subscription:

10. Pointless pictures of other people's pets.

9. Commuter newspaper for some reason obsessed with cars (pothole patrol, Autotimes, continual gas price coverage).

8. Richard Roeper pretending he's better than Michael Sneed. Really they're separated by Roeper's use of complete sentences. Stick to the movies, bucko.

7. Mary Mitchell disguising her prejudices by exposing other peoples' prejudices.

6. Talk Back: the section for readers who are too crazy/illiterate to handle writing a letter or email.

5. Robert Novak's mere presence.

4. Paper only makes it to my door 57% of the time, though I pay for daily delivery. Funny, the delivery problems started occurring after the Sun-Times farmed out the service to Tribune Co. Coincidence?

3. Michael Sneed's overuse of "to wit," "translation," and "Obama drama."

2. The new "How I'm Saving Money" segment: a pandering distraction from a deeply troubled economy which goes largely uncovered.

1. Drew Peterson and R. Kelly's rotating front-page coverage.


...to The Watchdogs, Mark Brown and Abdon Pallasch: check you online, homies.

Wither Channel

After an early Easter and only our second year of a bumped-up daylight savings time tricked the Midwest into thinking spring was right around the corner, the extended winter felt especially cruel. But Chicago hit the 70-degree mark for the first time since October 21, 2007 yesterday, and you know what that means...

Yes, folks, it's officially that time of year when you don't have to listen to me bitching about the weather.

Some of you might be saying, "C'mon, now. As soon as it hits 95 degrees in the big city you'll be complaining along with the rest of us."

You must not be aware of the public service pact into which I entered two years ago. I came to a collective agreement with everyone I might come into contact with never to complain about the heat, no matter how much the outdoors might resemble the depths of Hades.

Some were skeptical. And I'll admit that it does get tough, especially when you hail from Minnesota. That's not just because we're hard-wired to yap endlessly about the weather, either. Say I'm in an elevator with some sassy old woman who's telling off the weather gods. It's all I can do to keep from adding a "Yeah, and how 'bout that humidity, eh?" As if elevators weren't uncomfortable enough.

But I've managed to stick to my pledge for two years running now. And really, it's the least I can do: you all have been so patient.

Short attention span? You too can save the planet!

My new favorite eco-fad? Let's call it sixty minutes in the closet with Chicago.

Earth Hour, organized by the World Wildlife Fund, is this Saturday at 8 pm central, and I couldn't be more excited about something as mundane as flipping a switch. Yeah, that's all it is. Turn off your lights for an hour; feel morally superior. And prettier.

Though there are only a few cities officially participating (my hometown not being one of them, *ahem*) I don't see any reason why everyone can't participate. Or, is this event only for cities with ridiculously useless recycling programs?

I don't know how much energy Earth Hour really saves, but frankly, I don't care. I just want to play some self-righteous flashlight tag. Yeah!

Rezko Schmezko

The lobby of the Dirksen Federal Building in downtown Chicago has a little cordoned-off area for cameramen hoping to catch a balding Syrian man on trial for soliciting kickbacks, supposedly on behalf of Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich.

For those who don't know, Rezko is accused of gathering illicit funds from companies seeking government contracts and individuals wanting to be appointed by the Gov. to state boards. The Feds caught on to his pal Stu Levine's rampant drug use and questionable "private behavior," so they wired the guy up and sent him after Rezko in exchange for a reduced 5-year sentence. My out of state pals may know him as "that guy giving fodder to Clinton and other anti-Obamans," as he has been described as a friend of our IL senator-cum-presidential candidate.

I've been in court watching the proceedings thrice since the trial began late last month and I have to say I've enjoyed myself. Since I'm new to Chicago, this whole corruption thing hasn't gotten old yet.

I thought I'd share some of my scribblings from the past few weeks for all those judicial junkies out there. First, to orient you, here's the newspaper-y piece I did on Thomas Beck's testimony on March 12:

"Friends in high places"

Jurors in the Antoin "Tony" Rezko case got to hear Stuart Levine's stammering voice for the first time Wednesday, though the prosecution's chief witness wasn't in the court room.

During the testimony of Thomas Beck, former Cook County comptroller and chair of the Illinois State Health Facility Planning Board, a recording of an FBI wiretap between him and Levine was played in court. Beck, now a consultant in Glenview, testified under immunity.

Though the jury was riveted by the playback of the conversation, Beck's testimony was more illustrative of the way Rezko was able to control the inner workings of planning healthcare in Illinois. Rezko is a politically connected former fundraiser for Gov. Rod Blagojevich.

According to Beck, everything from his board appointment to the opening of new hospitals went through Rezko. Though Beck had originally been appointed to the board by Gov. Jim Edgar in the 1990s and retained by Gov. George Ryan, he told prosecutors that when he wanted to be reappointed after Gov. Rod Blagojevich's 2003 shake-up of the board, he called Rezko.

"The newspapers and the word on the street was that Tony was close to the governor," Beck testified. "I thought he could be helpful to me."

He said he made an appointment with Rezko and brought a $1,000 check made out to Friends of Blagojevich. Soon after, Rezko asked him to serve as chair of the Health Facility Planning Board.

Beck identified three newly appointed doctors whom, in addition to Levine, Rezko could count upon to vote the way the governor wanted: Glenview pathologist Imad Almanaseer, Kankakee neurosurgeon Michel Malek and Winnetka podiatrist Fortunee Massuda. Beck described introducing himself to them at the board orientation in 2003.

"[I told them] 'I believe we have a mutual friend in Tony Rezko,' and they said, 'Oh, yes, he's our friend," Beck testified.

The "mutual friends" of Rezko were also Friends of Blagojevich. Dr. Malek donated $25,000 to Blagojevich on July 25, 2003, the same day that Foot & Ankle Clinics of America (based in Chicago and run by Dr. Massuda at the time) contributed an identical amount. The contributions were received just weeks before Gov. Blagojevich named the two doctors to the board. Levine donated $1,900 to Friends of Blagojevich in 2003.

Beck said he always met with Levine before the board's monthly meetings because Levine "never read anything he had received" regarding the agenda.

"[Levine] wanted to know what Tony wanted him to do," Beck testified.

Beck's communication with the three doctors was more complex. He said he wrote instructions on index cards for each of them.

"I would give one to each of the doctors [and say] 'these are of interest to our friend,'" Beck said.

The conversation played in court was taped by the FBI April 19, 2003, two days before a scheduled board meeting. Beck and Levine talked about a Mercy Health System proposal to build a new hospital in McHenry County. The proposal had been denied six months before the April meeting and needed to be reconsidered soon, per board rules.

At the time of the meeting, the Mercy application was unacceptable to the board. Beck testified that he told this to Rezko, but was told to pass it anyway.

"I got my marching orders," Beck told Levine. "Our boy wants some help."

Beck detailed a way to make the board seem like it was being fair to all three hospitals being considered at that meeting. He told Levine to tell Mercy's lawyer that the board would formulate new questions for each hospital to answer, necessitating extending the board's six month deadline for resubmitting a proposal.

Mercy's $81 million proposal was ultimately approved and the hospital continues to operate in Crystal Lake.

###

Here's what it's like for all the reporters who show up late to Judge Amy St. Eve's courtroom to cover the proceedings and get shuttled to the overflow room:

Despite the black velvet curtain around the big screen TV in the overflow room for the Tony Rezko trial, observers there were less than solemn.

Stuart Levine, the prosecution's key witness, continued his testimony from yesterday in a packed courtroom today. In the overflow room, reporters laughed over Levine's flippant answers to objections filed by the defense over the specificity of the location of meetings between Levine and Rezko.

Besides that, the testimony was rather dull.

Levine's answers to the prosecution's questions about his relationship with Rezko were blunt, but not surprising.

"I felt that Mr. Rezko and I could make a lot of money together," he said, referring to "illegal deals" he said he could bring regarding the two boards he served on: the Illinois Teachers' Retirement System and the Illinois Health Facilities Planning Board.

Observers could be seen doodling, yawning and playing hangman. Empty Dunkin' Donuts cups littered the courtroom tables. The door was never closed for more than a minute or two; people kept coming and going. One guy passed time picking his nose.

The view might be shitty (the camera shot catches the least interesting part of the courtroom, leaving out the evidence projection and the witness stand. And, I don't know about everyone else, but I am plain sick of looking at Tony's bald spot), but at least you can't be found in contempt of court.

During the morning break, one reporter said the former fundraiser "thought he was the next Gary Hart," referring to Levine's testimony that Rezko believed Gov. Blagojevich was going to run for president.

Other, less confident reporters checked quotes against their neighbors notes during the break. Someone went to go get more coffee. Judge Amy will never know.

How about a war on inanity?

This is old news for Chicagoans, but I've been bitching about it so constantly that one friend finally said, "just blog about it so we don't have to have this conversation again."

Maybe I miss Wednesdays at city hall. But this new indication of legislative applesauce gave me an eye-rolling strain.

Alds. Bob Fioretti and Ed Smith (aldermen I usually agree with)recently championed banning the sale of little ziploc baggies in Chicago in an attempt to curb illegal drug sales.

Lt. Kevin Navarro, commanding officer of the Chicago Police Department's Narcotics and Gang Unit, addressed the Health Committee that moved the measure forward earlier this month. He said the baggies are important because buyers can use the baggie names as code so that they don't have to say the drug's actual name.

Sorry, Navarro, but when is the last time you heard a user request "twenty dollars worth of methamphetamine?"

And I'm sure dealers would absolutely balk at putting a dime in a regular-sized baggie:

"Hey! That's for sandwiches, man."

I'm also positive there's no way dealers would stop in Evanston on their way back from Canada or Evergreen Park on their way from Mexico to pick up some "marketing supplies."