Since I’m kinda taking today off, we’re going to take a different tack today. Enjoy!
Ya gotta love that Elgin hospitality!
I want to thank the fine friendly folks of Elgin 54 who made canvassing that precinct a lot of fun yesterday. It was incredibly heartening to interact with so many concerned voters who took the time to answer the door and talk about the process.
Much like baseball managers generally don’t take at bats, campaign managers typically don’t knock on doors, but if you really want to take the pulse of an election, there’s no better way than talking directly to the voters.
And kudos to all the candidates who’ve been knocking on doors for months. I got a little fatigued after just 3.5 hours!
Thank you, Corey Dixon!
What made yesterday even more enjoyable, was walking the 54th with Elgin City Councilman Corey Dixon for an hour.
First, it helps when the voters actually recognize one of the folks standing at their front door. Second, Corey and I should never be left alone together for any reason. Something about undermining the underpinnings of Western Civilization.
And third, while I can play the extrovert when I want to, Corey is naturally engaging, and I learned quite a bit watching him interact with voters.
Cruising for what?
As if collectively catching the norovirus while you’re trapped in a tin can with 800 of your inebriated new best friends on a rolling sea isn’t bad enough, now they’re turning into the marine version of a WWE cage match.
You can read the full story here, but apparently an extended family of 23 roamed the ship looking for fights and going after any Australian they could find. It got so bad, the Carnival Cruise had to head into various Ozzie ports early to eject the rabble from the boat.
Given that people were barricading themselves in their rooms, Carnival is offering 25 percent off their next cruise, but I’d imagine the class action suit will be coming soon.
All I can say is, the only way you’ll find me on a cruise ship is if I’ve been kidnapped.
Dear Mr. Fantasy
Upon driving my eldest son to Waubonsee last week, one of my all-time favorite songs, ‘Dear Mr. Fantasy,’ came wafting across Sirius XM radio. So, I explained Traffic, that Steve Winwood was in the Spencer Davis Group at the ripe old age of 16, he moved on to Blind Faith and finally became a platinum solo artist.
But then I felt a certain sadness as I realized that Ben might never have those kinds of musical standards.
It’s not that I’m prone to shouting, “Turn it down! That’s not real music,” when my younger son plays his EDM – I actually like The Chainsmokers, Alan Walker and TheFatRat. And though today’s dominant “alternative” music has its moments – Coldplay, Radiohead and Foo Fighters – it’s all starting to sound like the same song.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the Democratization the Internet provides, but think about it! I haven’t heard an instant classic like ‘Dear Mr. Fantasy,’ ‘Band on the Run,’ or ‘Tumbling Dice’ in a couple of decades.
This kind of musical parity also means no more fascinating ‘Behind the Music’ episodes.
I love hearing about the Stones fleeing to that French Chateau to record ‘Exile on Mainstreet.’ Then there’s all the ribald tales of The Prince of Darkness, Ozzie Osbourne. Who could forget Joan Jett’s struggle to get a recording contract led her to founding the first female-owned record company.
It’s not that I’d recommend some of those drug-induced ventures, but today’s groups, and their music, seem so vanilla.
Maybe I’m wrong. My mother clearly erred when she said she feared there would be no rock and roll classics back in 1970. I suppose, in the words of those great philosophers Asia, “Only time will tell.”
All I can say is, go see ‘Cabaret’ at the Paramount in Aurora.