the Diva Platform

Hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving week!  The parade was a ton of fun–even given the crummy weather we had.  It was cold and rainy, but that didn’t stop our parade!

Although we had to wait around for a couple of hours while our balloon inflated and we got in line, the parade itself flew by.  I was on Maisy’s left arm (which apparently got me on TV), and couldn’t help but smile the entire time.  Sure, it was a little tricky to do the stop light and L track limbo with our balloon, but we managed to get her around all the obstacles and mosey up State Street.

Overall, I had a great time–Macy’s parade, you’re next!

Maisy Mouse--inflated and ready to walk!

I'm ready to go (bundled up to the max)!

Some of the other balloons: Bullwinkle, Hello Kitty, and Strawberry Shortcake

Underdog!

Curious George!

I’ve decided to take this week off of the blog for a number of reasons:

1. I need a little R&R.
2. I’ve got a good amount of work to crank out.
3. Do you really want to read a traditional, “What are you thankful for” post?
4. My website software desperately needs to be updated, and I’d like to block out the writing time to do that.
5. I’m getting up at the buttcrack of dawn on Thanksgiving day to carry a balloon in the McDonald’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Yes, that’s right, this year my connections got me a balloon handling gig, which I couldn’t be more excited about, even though I never get up and watch the parade on my own accord.  I’m assigned to the Maisy Mouse balloon, so tune into WGN (or WGN America) for the Chicago parade and maybe you’ll catch me!

I’ll be back next Monday with a fresh batch of fun.  Have a great week, everyone!

We’re heading into Thanksgiving week here in the US, which means time to think about what we’re thankful for.  Ladies, are you thankful you can buy your bras?  Amazingly, not everyone can afford to.

I read this story by Dawn Reiss and was kind of amazed–this Chicago artist did a project with a bunch of bras, then ended up with them in his closet.  A prodding by an old girlfriend to do something with them, and now this man has a non-profit on his hands, collecting new and gently used bras to be donated to women’s shelters or teen programs.

It makes total sense, when you think about it.  Bras can be expensive, and you’ve got to cash out a good amount to get a full supply of them.  You don’t have the money, you’re wearing the same bra over and over again.  How does that feel?  This organization, called Support 1000, can help women in such a small, yet really important way, so if you’ve got some extra bras lying around, think about sending them this organization’s way.

Are you one of those people who has a list of certain things they want to accomplish in their lives?  Yesterday, I was reminded of another dream:  Be a serious bidder at a real (i.e.–Sotheby’s or Christie’s) auction.  Why did I think of it?  Oh, it was my annual auction crack:  The City of Chicago Banner Auction.

I know I’ve talked about the auction before–each year the city sells some banners that hang on the street poles, and the money goes to the Mayor’s “Sharing It” fund, which provides food and gifts for poor people and children during the holidays.

I’ve attended the auction a good number of times, and I have to say I have a hard time NOT bidding.  I like the idea of owning a piece of Chicago lore….whether or not I can display it.  We have a ton of banners in our closet (amazingly, we have tall ceilings in our apartment, so technically we could hang these suckers; there’s just not enough wallspace to do so).  I have a set from the Film Festival, a Harry Carey tribute banner, a 1994 World Cup sign (that served as my desk for a long time), and more.  I’ve bought banners for others, like I’m a dealer in these things.  It’s addictive behavior.

Yesterday was no different.  What was up for auction?  Banners for the failed Chicago 2016 Olympics bid.  One of the aspects of the bid I did like was the graphics, so I wanted bring home a banner.  I missed the first one up for sale by a minute or so, but then next….the boxing double banner…I snapped that bad boy up, like I’m earning money with all my freelance writing or something.  I managed to stave off buying any other Olympic banners, though I was tempted.  Still….it’s another banner in my house.

It’s hard to resist the auction though.  The feeling that you’ve won something.  Hell, “Congratulations President Obama” banners were also up:  One went for $1200.  Another went for almost a thousand.  My Olympic banners didn’t cost that much, for good reason, but it was so tempting to hop into the Obama fight.  Hence the reason I’d someday like to have enough money that a $1200 bid doesn’t frighten me at all.  $75 million for that painting?  Sure, I can do that!  Boy, that would be something to say!

Don’t you hate it when you work hard to change something about your life, but you don’t like what you’ve become?  The new, financially-conscious Jill does not hang out at neighborhood establishments much these days (If I tracked it, the numbers might say a different story, but New Cheap Jill doesn’t drink out as much as she’d like to, that’s for sure).  It’s a shame because bars are chock full of great material that I can use in my writing.  Stuff you can’t make up.

For example, I was at a lovely cocktail establishment last night, chatting with an acquaintance about the possibility of her going to library school (as much as I’d like to go off-topic, today I’ll spare you my graduate school rant).  One of the bartenders wore a white v-neck undershirt as shirt (again, I won’t go off-topic) and had unruly, curly hair.

At one point, another female patron looked at this bartender and asked, “Do you have any experience with the Flowbee?” [My linking capabilities are down right now, but the Flowbee (http://www.flowbee.com) is a haircutting system that sucks your hair upright and trims it.  It's fascinating--and scary.]

Whoa.  I heard that, and my conversation stopped.  I had to stare.  And then get into the Flowbee conversation. Wouldn’t you?

Turns out the inquirer’s mom has a simple haircut–she likes it an even 4″ all the way around.  The inquirer had seen a person with a decent Flowbee haircut and thought this might make a good Christmas present for mom.

Needless to say, the bartender wasn’t a Flowbee aficionado and couldn’t give any advice, but it certainly was one of the more interesting conversations I’ve been privy to in weeks!

Oprah and I don’t hang out much anymore (and by “hang out,” I mean, “I tune in to her show”), so I don’t always know the hot topics.  However, I wandered over to her show about women around the world and had to share her video of her tour of a typical Danish home.  The house is pretty sparse–small, clean lines, not much clutter.  Oprah wandered around, marvelling at it all.  The fridge was one thing she noticed was pretty small.  I’ve lived in Europe a couple of times.  My current refrigerator seems mammoth to what I had in both of my European apartments.  It’s fairly small compared to fridges here.

It has to be unusual for Oprah to see the small stuff.  Sure, she has an apartment in Chicago, but (a) it’s probably big by apartment standards, and (b) she has other palatial estates around the country.  Oh, there are some Europeans who have pretty palatial estates too, but the regular folk have to fight over what little space is left.

This all made me think about McMansions.  Is that trend officially over?  Are people still buying humungous houses?  Granted, after living in a 1-BR for the last 8 years, I’d certainly like a little more space, but having way more space than I really need seems excessively wasteful.  In America, “excessively wasteful” seems to be our middle name.  Will we continue to be like this in the future?  Will things ever calm down to a point that we’re not all assuming that a large house is the answer to all our problems?

I consider myself a somewhat religious person.  I’m a Christian, but more Sunday mornings than not, you’ll find me snuggled in bed rather than going to church.  That’s more a fault of having to trek downtown, I think, because I really do love my church.  I just tend to shrug off going except when I have something to do.

One of the reasons my church is great is the pastoral staff.  I go to a Methodist church, so the preachers are itinerant (they move around the system).  Even though it’s kind of a shock to adjust to new pastors time and time again, I really have enjoyed all of the ones we’ve had in the years I’ve attended.  Our current head pastor is absolutely wonderful, and the last two times I’ve heard him speak (last Sunday at church and yesterday at a wake), I was reminded that I really do need to go to church more because how he interprets the scriptures really helps me make sense of the world and my religion and how to fit into both.

Last week at church he gave a sermon about the widow who gave her last coins to the church (Mark 12: 38-44).  For once this passage made sense to me.  Usually it’s in the context of, Look, this widow gave everything she had to the church.  You should give until it hurts as well.  However, if you look before and after that particular story, Jesus isn’t too thrilled that the church leaders take everything they can from the people.  In the sermon, the pastor said, we like you to give, but you really do need to take care of yourself first.  It doesn’t really help us if you give us everything you have and then need help.

Really?!  I could feel the guilt lift–I haven’t been giving much lately, and I’ve dreaded stewardship time, because with my random paychecks and the Boy being laid off, I just haven’t felt I could give as much as I “should” (and by “should,” I mean tithing).  Hearing that it’s OK not to give until it hurts made me feel better, and since the sermon was rooted in a lot of research, I could buy it.  It’s nice to hear a pastor say something like this–even though the church needs money, it’s nice of them to recognize and say it’s OK not to give if you really can’t afford to do so.

Fast forward a week, and our church family unexpectedly lost a member, the husband of a woman I play handbells with.  This was a total shock.  Sure, the man had muscular dystrophy and had been in a wheelchair pretty much all of his life, but all things considered, he wasn’t in bad health–or rather, there was nothing that would lead one to believe he’d die anytime soon.

I went to a prayer service held during his wake, and once again, the pastor did a phenomenal job.  He didn’t speak for very long, but he did say what we all felt–that it wasn’t fair that the man had had to be disabled, that it wasn’t fair for a wife to lose her husband at a relatively young age, that it wasn’t fair for a 13-year-old to lose her father.  Acknowledging that life is unfair, that death is unfair–that does so much more for the grieving process than some platitudes about the man going to a better place, God’s will, or something along those lines.

As I get older, I find I like the pastors who bullshit me less and less.  Someone who’s real, who gets life, and tries to interpret a roadmap for us helps me a lot more than reciting a whole bunch of Bible verses.  Since I went to a Christian school, I still have a fair amount of friends–or Facebook friends–who are quite religious and post a lot of Bible verses, thanks to God, or pleas to God in their status updates.  OK, if that gets you through, but somehow seeing those is a turn-off for me.  They sometimes ring hollow (really, did God drive you by that house you ended up buying?  Did God take away your sinus infection….which means He also gave it to you, so why be all thrilled?  God wants you to learn some sort of lesson, so He hasn’t made it possible for you to sell your house yet?) and make me feel less like wanting to be a Christian.  The constant spewing of Bible verses and praise just doesn’t do it for me.  Reasoned insight does–it’s just that reasoned insight is better said in more than 140 characters or a sound bite.

What does this all mean?  It means I’ll probably be setting my alarm for Sunday.  More reasoned insight into life would probably help me live a better one.  That would be good right about now.

Yesterday I asked you to name people who can’t seem to get out of the press, even when they have no right to be there.  I realized that in 10 years we’re all going to be saying, “Jon & Kate?  Oh, yeah….I wonder whatever happened to them.  How are their kids’ therapy bills?”

How many pop culture footnotes are out there?  Who blanketed the news forever (or seemed like forever), who was all we could talk about at the water cooler, but never think about now?

I’m thinking of things like the Heaven’s Gate cult, JonBenet Ramsey (though I feel bad for the poor girl, and it was a sad situation), and other incidents like that.  Who else can you come up with?

Dear _________,

Do yourself a favor. Do the general public a favor.

Go away.

For some unknown reason, you became popular and now your mug graces a slew of magazine covers.  But why?  Because you need the attention?  It’s not like whatever you’re famous for is actually moving our culture forward in any way, and at this point you’re becoming more of a joke than a celebrity.

Please, for the love of God, slip quietly back into the masses of regular people from whence you came.  Then do something better with your life.

Your pal,

Jill

So, gang, who needs to receive this letter?  For starters, I’d nominate Jon Gosselin.  Granted, maybe I shouldn’t subscribe to the Us Weekly e-newsletter, which I rarely open, mind you, mostly because I don’t want to see stuff like a puffy guy doing yoga. I do, however, want to know who the kids are talking about these days, which is why I still get it.

Thankfully, Balloon Boy’s parents seem to be fading into the background again.  I’m hoping their 15 minutes went quickly, but just in case, I’d like to send them this note.  [And that link is to Wikipedia. This incident necessitates an article that long?  Really?]

But there have got to be other people who need a little reminder that they’re being stupid and narcissistic, right?  People that should become footnotes of pop culture?  Who are they?

Ah, the holidays.  Nothing like spending a nice Thanksgiving evening….outside in line (probably in the cold), waiting for the Black Friday sales to start.

I don’t tend to get into Black Friday sales.  There is no good reason for me to wait in line for hours to spend money at a store.  A $29 DVD player won’t do it.  I’d rather sleep, stay warm, and shop at a less crowded time.  That’s worth more than the big savings–and if it turns out that everyone gets fewer gifts because my dollar won’t stretch as far, well, that’s what happens.  [Incidentally, did any of you get the $29 DVD player?  Does it still work?]

Yesterday–over two weeks before Black Friday–the Tribune had a story about stores prepping for the big day.  If you read the actual paper, you also got a sidebar that I didn’t see online, telling about some of the Black Friday shopping tragedies.  Events like people being trampled trying to get Cabbage Patch Kids or Furbies (I haven’t heard of the Furby in a while) and last year’s trampling that resulted in a security guard death.

Most of these took place in Wal-Marts.  I’m not saying the Wal-Mart customer is more prone to mobbing, but perhaps you don’t want to be front and center when they open the doors.  Unless you’re a sprinter and can shoot ahead of the pack (which, given the state of our health and fitness, may not be so difficult).

Just be careful out there–someone’s life is not worth you saving a couple of bucks.