WBEZ | Ukrainian Village http://www.wbez.org/tags/ukrainian-village Latest from WBEZ Chicago Public Radio en Learning to love neighborhood bars http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-11/learning-love-neighborhood-bars-109144 <p><div class="image-insert-image "><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/8402763858_5e9fc174fe_z.jpg" style="height: 443px; width: 620px;" title="(Flickr/swanksalot)" /></div><div><p dir="ltr">What makes for a great neighborhood bar? To me, its main quality exists in comfort.&nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">Are the drinks priced well? Are the seats comfortable? Are the people more than decent? A great neighborhood bar &mdash; a great dive bar in particular &mdash; is especially enjoyable on weekdays, when raucousness is abandoned for quiet and a night cap. Expressions like &#39;pleasant,&#39; &#39;decent&#39; and &#39;just right&#39; should be used liberally.</p><p dir="ltr">In college, I lived in Chicago&#39;s Lincoln Park. I remember going to a bar a block away from me once, hoping to find an alternative to treking to other parts of the city for a night out. I handed the doorman my ID, but what should have been a quick once-over became uncomfortable. His stare was equal parts lascivious and questioning, as if saying, &lsquo;You don&rsquo;t belong here, but I&rsquo;ll let you in if you&rsquo;re a good girl and ask nicely.&rsquo;</p><p dir="ltr">I never went back.</p><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;All we&rsquo;ve got in Chicago is a bunch of TV screens and dive bars,&rdquo; I once said to a friend while leaving the Belmont &#39;El&#39; stop. &ldquo;And I hate it.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">After a life spent growing up in and around the city, I was itching for some place different, some city that didn&rsquo;t feel as familiar as Chicago. (But I kept that to myself.)</p><p dir="ltr">I thought my friend would agree with me, but he said, &ldquo;You know what? I actually like them. Well, the dive bars at least.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;Really?&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">&ldquo;Yeah,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Good neighborhood places &hellip; They&rsquo;re just easier.&rdquo;</p><p dir="ltr">I had no idea know what he meant &mdash;yet.&nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">Later, I moved to Ukrainian Village. (More specifically, I moved to East Village, but trying to explain where that is, even to life-long Chicagoans, can be difficult.) I chose the area because I didn&rsquo;t want to live on the North Side, but didn&#39;t want to live as far west as where I&#39;d grown up either.&nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">It was here that my perspective on Chicago bars changed. On a rainy day during a friend&rsquo;s May birthday, we went to her favorite local bar, <a href="https://plus.google.com/117082116597132344066/about?gl=us&amp;hl=en">Innertown Pub</a>.&nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">The place was packed, the lights were charming, and the walls seemed to tell their stories. Located on a quiet East Village street, this was the kind of bar I was unfamiliar with, but immediately knew I could love.</p><p dir="ltr">In college, I never felt at ease at downtown clubs, sports pubs, or dive bars. Instead I spent most of those years frequenting places that catered to the North Side hip-hop crowd. We listened to classic and modern hits, with a sprinkle of 90&#39;s R&amp;B for good measure.</p><p dir="ltr">There, I felt a kinship both to the people and the setting. There was no pressure to look sexy or cool. I did not think about whether my hair was pressed right or if my jacket was new enough. This was Saturday night, but it felt as real as a Tuesday.</p><p dir="ltr">I looked for spaces that had something unique about them, but their characteristics were often the same &mdash; decor, beer list, music.&nbsp;</p><p dir="ltr">Innertown felt different, and that&#39;s what made calling East Village home easy. Soon, I discovered other places I jived with: the dance vibes of Club Foot, the beautiful decor and excellent drinks of Bar Deville, the everyone-you&rsquo;ve-ever-known atmosphere of Rainbo, the ease of Happy Village, the curiousness of Nilda&rsquo;s.</p><p dir="ltr">I&#39;ve lived in this neighborhood for more than two years now, and being here has shown me a part of the city I never would have given a chance, had it not been for places like these.</p><p dir="ltr">Perhaps this is just a phase, and in two years I&rsquo;ll be singing another tune. But for now, it feels just right.</p><p dir="ltr"><em>Britt Julious&nbsp;writes about race and culture in and outside of Chicago. Follow Britt&rsquo;s&nbsp;<a href="http://www.wbez.org/taxonomy/term/22437/" target="_blank">essays for WBEZ</a><a href="http://wbez.tumblr.com">&#39;s Tumblr</a>&nbsp;and on Twitter&nbsp;<a href="http://twitter.com/britticisms" target="_blank">@britticisms</a>.</em></p></div><p>&nbsp;</p></p> Wed, 13 Nov 2013 10:00:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-11/learning-love-neighborhood-bars-109144 Being here vs. living here: Why EveryBlock mattered http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-02/being-here-vs-living-here-why-everyblock-mattered-105550 <p><div class="image-insert-image "><div class="image-insert-image "><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/everyblock%203.jpg" title="(Flickr/Kirby Kerr)" /></div></div><div class="image-insert-image ">There is a lot of litter on my block. It is not all over the neighborhood or even in front of every house, but it is there and it grows seemingly uncontrollable as the temperature gets warmer. The temperature outside dipped down to seasonable levels and it snowed, covering the strewn papers, plastic bags, and occasional bottle that could be found curbside of the apartment building two doors down. But then it melted again and I was reminded of what was still there: a lot of trash just waiting to be put in its rightful place.</div><div class="image-insert-image ">&nbsp;</div><div><div>I thought about this when thinking about the demise of EveryBlock, a Chicago-born message board, aggregator, and news source. On January 7, a man posted to the Humboldt Park board asking for neighbors to participate in a clean-up. Although I can&rsquo;t access the thread anymore, one of the comments that stuck out to me was one that had stuck out to me time and again on other litter-related threads. A commenter noted that litter was also a problem &nbsp;where he or she lived and said that the people who rarely picked up what was in front of their homes were renters. These are not the &ldquo;real&rdquo; citizens of the neighborhood, he implied. I couldn&rsquo;t totally disagree with him.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>Much like the renters who lived in the commenter&rsquo;s neighborhood, I often neglected the neighborhood I was trying to call my own. I left work and came straight home. I knew the women and families living in my building, but did I know the people living next door? If I saw them on the street, would I even recognize them? Trash often blew into the area surrounding my apartment and yet I did nothing about it. <em>Someone else will get that</em>, I often thought. <em>That&rsquo;s not &ldquo;my&rdquo; trash.</em></div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>Part of being a renter is knowing that where you live is not truly yours. I have painted the walls in my apartment, I have fixed leaks or clogged drains, I have hammered and pulled and shaped my space. But this apartment is not mine. I do not own this building. It does not yet feel like home. I don&rsquo;t know if it ever will.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>What does it mean to be a part of a neighborhood? In many ways, EveryBlock informed and shaped my understanding of community and place.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>My friend Arianna first told me about the site. She was looking to move apartments and wanted to know more about where she lived. I bridged our conversation with an air of confidence of choosing my neighborhood, feeling &ldquo;safe&rdquo; and secure with my decisions, and yet I quickly logged on to the site to gather as much information about where I lived as I could. I had yet to spend any significant amount of time getting to know the space and the people around me and my first time on the site left me both informed and horrified.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>Ukrainian Village and West Town were a lot more violent and dangerous than I imagined. But there were a lot of small restaurants I missed when taking new friends around on the weekend. There was a gallery that had opened two and a half blocks away from my apartment featuring affordable works by local artists I loved. The dive bar down the block? Disgustingly cheap and apparently full of friendly locals.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>I previously chose my neighborhood based on other factors that hold little weight in my day-to-day life. I wanted people young and shops new and nightlife energy in abundance. But if I was to describe the neighborhood &ndash; its legacy, its troubles, its triumphs &ndash; I would not have had much to say. Arianna&rsquo;s introduction to the site gave me something important that had been missing from my experience living not just in that neighborhood, but in every neighborhood I&rsquo;d ever lived in as an adult: a sense of membership. It was important to know what was going on not just to stay safe, but to also stay active. There is a difference between being here and living here.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/everyblock%204.jpg" title="(Flickr/J. Mills)" /></div><div>EveryBlock turned me into an informed citizen, but more importanly, it also turned me into a participatory one. I was no longer &ldquo;allowed&rdquo; to just go to and from work and activities. My apartment was not just where I lived. It was where I chose to &ldquo;settle.&rdquo; I thought of the difference in one particular way. My building has a nice patio area in the back and I sometimes sat out there in the summer to try and read. Inevitably, the noise of the city was too much of a distraction. But feeling and behaving more like a true member of the neighborhood let me feel comfortable enough to sit on my stoop and observe the couples, the dog owners, the frantic workers living around me. It was an act of ownership, even if it was only minor.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>My use of EveryBlock developed into a new reading habit as soon as I woke up. The daily email usually arrived before 7 a.m. and I spent about ten minutes reading what was going on in my neighborhood, whether it was unuly pets or shootings or burglaries. It felt good to stay informed. Unlike the traditional newspaper, EveryBlock was hyperlocal, allowing me to focus on smaller stories that I would not have known about going on around me. It was a ritual that I could appreciate and find value in. It was the soaking up of the immediate world. It was knowing rather than not knowing. It felt important, even if it was just a way to selfishly feel better.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>EveryBlock said, &quot;This is what is going on. What are you going to do about it? Do you care enough to even read this?&quot; And as a sometimes passive consumer of the events around me, that was a good way to get my attention. This is the neighborhood you are living in! Did you know anything at all?</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>Early last summer, a man groped me on Division Street while riding his bike. It was a bizarre incident that occured in the middle of the day with no witnesses in sight. That&#39;s one particular thing about Chicago neighborhoods: They have a way of making you forget anyone else is even around. I talked about the incident on Twitter and my blog and did nothing else about it. I figured it was just a random incident with a stranger, one I had become familiar with as a young woman.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/everyblock%205.jpg" title="(Flickr/Fried Pod)" /></div><div>But then, another woman posted a nearly identical story: middle of the day, bike rider, groping. I quickly responded to her post and we exchanged details. She had already filed a police report. A few weeks later, the same incident occurred. What was going on? A serial assaulter. More importantly, we were not alone in this incident. It did not traumatize me because I had in many ways become immune to these kind of actions, but the other women were clearly bothered and angry. And who am I to deny their feelings? I felt them too at one point.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>Reporting the incident on EveryBlock was a call for similar incidents. The responses? A way to show that she was not alone, that this was still a major problem, that one does not need to shove these incidents aside. And also, things do not just happen in a vacuum. This is not good, but this is your neighborhood too.&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>I am not naive enough to pretend that EveryBlock was the solution for everything. It was a welcome resource, but it was also an excuse to provide microaggressions. Many members just voiced complaints without doing anything tangible in real life. I understand this. Although there are alternatives &ndash; such as the Ukranian Village Neighborhood Watch Group, which I am also a part of &ndash;&nbsp;the loss of EveryBlock forces me to stay informed about where I live on my own. I must do the work. I must research and read and TALK to the people around me. But the desire to know this has not died with the site. It has shaped me into a better citizen and even if the site never comes back or no true alternative is found, its benefits will be felt long after.&nbsp;</div></div><p>&nbsp;</p></p> Fri, 15 Feb 2013 09:00:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-02/being-here-vs-living-here-why-everyblock-mattered-105550 Neighborhoods: I live here, therefore I am http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-01/neighborhoods-i-live-here-therefore-i-am-104761 <p><p><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/4081723478_b984e742cf_z.jpg" style="height: 414px; width: 620px;" title="(Laurie Chipps)" /></p><p>I know this feeling, if only a little bit. Everyday I wake up to see the sun. I am nostalgic for an unremembered past. But the way my mother has gripped my rough, cold hands with her warm, thick fingers made the memories visceral, as if they were my own and not hers. These memories she passed on to me as fables, as rituals, and as a source of heritage.</p><p>I&rsquo;m thinking about the city and segregation. What does it mean to belong? My father&rsquo;s family often regarded my mother and my sisters with suspicion. He was from the South Side; my mother was from the West. They were both born in the South, in Alabama and Mississippi, but neighborhoods and cities have a way of changing you. Chicago in particular changes you. This is said a lot, but Chicago is truly a city of neighborhoods. And it is this configuration of neighborhoods that both welcomes and stifles diversity. You are free to be who you are, so long as you are over <em>there</em>. Lines can and have been drawn both inter- and intra-culturally.</p><p>My parents settled on the West Side, an area &ndash; like the South Side or the North Side &ndash; that is complex and complicating. It was important for my parents that we maintained a connection to family in both parts of the city. The older I was, the more it felt like a desire to maintain a connection to the identities of the West Side or the South Side, these black enclaves in the city. We lived in the Austin neighborhood of Chicago, but eventually settled in Oak Park, a suburb of the city that is both wealthy and active. If Chicago is a city that &ldquo;brushes under the rug,&rdquo; Oak Park is a city that tries. Often times, it is the effort more than anything else that defines the relations from neighbor to neighbor.</p><p>Cultural identity is important but it can also be crippling in that what we often define to be &ldquo;ours&rdquo; is not right or healthy or meaningful. I&rsquo;m weary of anyone&rsquo;s idea of what it means to be black or what it means to be a woman or what it means to be young. Experience tells me that the truth is more nuanced and less familiar.</p><p>I currently live in the Ukranian Village neighborhood of Chicago. I can&#39;t say whether or not the people who also live here see very many faces like mine. But after years spent living in Lincoln Park and Lakeview during college, I am used to feeling and looking out of place.&nbsp;</p><p>In late October, I came home from a night out with friends to confront a cab driver who questioned my place of residence. He did not want to know <em>why</em> I lived where I live. He wanted to know how this was possible.</p><p>&quot;You live here,&quot; he asked. I said yes.&nbsp;</p><p>&quot;This isn&#39;t a black neighborhood,&quot; he said.&nbsp;</p><p>&quot;And?&quot; I asked.&nbsp;</p><p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s a black girl doing living in this neighborhood?&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;You shouldn&rsquo;t be living over here. You should be living with your people.&rdquo;</p><p>Telling friends of this conversation, they were more upset by the situation than I was. I have been here my entire life. I don&rsquo;t say this to suggest that this is the truest definition of the city. I say this because identity, like the neighborhoods here, is complex.</p><p>What I&rsquo;m talking about is constructed identities, not necessarily our own constructions. I am where I live and where I Iive is who I&rsquo;ll always be. What I&rsquo;m talking about are the narratives that were born long before us and will exist long after us. I want to say, this is who I am as a person. But the world says, this is where you&rsquo;re from and so this is who you are. Stay put.</p><p>Chicago faces the results of years of suppression and disintegration. I&rsquo;ve noticed this source of conversation in many local news outlets and I don&rsquo;t think it is as much a trend so much as it is the tipping point of questions of the future, of what it will mean to be a Chicagoan five or ten or fifteen years from now. Will things be as they are? Like a lot of matters&nbsp;regarding the city, the answers are not cut and dry. For a city like this, I would hope not.&nbsp;</p><p><em>Follow Britt on Twitter <a href="http://twitter.com/britticisms" target="_blank">@britticisms</a>.</em></p></p> Thu, 10 Jan 2013 05:00:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/blogs/britt-julious/2013-01/neighborhoods-i-live-here-therefore-i-am-104761 Something You Should Eat: Egg sandwich from Jam http://www.wbez.org/blog/steve-dolinsky/2011-03-15/something-you-should-eat-egg-sandwich-jam-83638 <img typeof="foaf:Image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/blog/photo/2011-March/2011-03-15/Eggsandwich.jpg" alt="" /><p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe height="338" frameborder="0" width="451" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20966308?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;color=c40215"></iframe></p> <p>Pork, eggs, cheese and bread. These seemingly humble ingredients have become the Four Horsemen of nearly every breakfast nook in Chicago. Naturally, the pork isn't simply bacon, it's shoulder that's been brined and/or smoked, sometimes braised in its own juices; the eggs should be organic, and if not, then at the very least, free-range and all-natural; the cheese has to be artisanal, preferably from a farm nearby and by a producer whose name graces the menu; finally, the bread: produced that morning by either Labriola, Red Hen or Pamela Fitzpatrick (Fox &amp; Obel).</p><p>Since it opened in Ukrainian Village, <a href="http://www.jamrestaurant.com/">Jam</a> has been a gem of a breakfast and lunch option in the neighborhood, and they're planning a second location in Logan Square in a few months. Their egg sandwich contains all of the above, and may sound simple on the surface, but when you see how it's constructed, you'll gain a fuller appreciation. Good luck trying to finish one by yourself.</p></p> Tue, 15 Mar 2011 11:00:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/blog/steve-dolinsky/2011-03-15/something-you-should-eat-egg-sandwich-jam-83638 Revision Street: Sharon Craine (II) http://www.wbez.org/amoore/2010/09/revision-street-sharon-craine-ii/36964 <p><p><em>Sharon&rsquo;s a tall, blonde, thin astrophysicist. And she has a secret.</em></p> <p>The different subfields of physics have different ratios of women to men. Astronomy tends to attract women more than other sub-branches of physics. Not to say that there are a lot. In our research group, there&rsquo;re probably a dozen people, maybe three of us are women. I think nationally, in all of physics, it&rsquo;s around 10 or 15%. We&rsquo;re present but it&rsquo;s definitely still a man&rsquo;s field. When I was an undergrad, people were a little less sensitive, but I think it&rsquo;s getting better. Every female physicist has some personal story where someone&rsquo;s been very rude or said something that was obviously not kosher, and you look back at it now and you think, people are morons. But it happens. My story is&mdash;I went to Ohio University and I went to the honors tutorial program. Basically, instead of going through your regular course curriculum, your main physics class for each quarter was taught in this one-on-one tutorial. It was based on the Oxford Cambridge model. There were six of us that were in this program, so they would sort of round us up from time to time, and we&rsquo;d do things in the lab. And there was this one kid in our class. I can&rsquo;t remember his name. He was a real jerk. No one really liked him. [<em>Laughs</em>.] He would just say boorish things, because he either didn&rsquo;t care or didn&rsquo;t know any better. Physics tends to draw people with poor social skills. I can&rsquo;t remember what he said, but he insinuated that, being a woman, I would sleep with teachers to get my good grades.</p> <p>He was a jerk to say it, but everyone in the room just sort of like, What the hell? I can&rsquo;t believe this guy just said that. The professor handed me some heavy instrument we were using and said, Feel free to pummel him with this. There are other stories, but that was the best one. Hopefully, I won&rsquo;t have more to top that.</p> <p>It&rsquo;s the little things, too. I remember when I was an undergrad we would have these departmental picnics, and one time we were carrying chairs back and forth. Some graduate student, I think he was European, was handing everyone else five or six chairs at a time, and I could handle it! And every time I would come up he would give me, like, one. I&rsquo;m like, I&rsquo;m not a weakling, I can handle this.</p> <p>As a woman, you&rsquo;re sometimes like, Ach, I can take it! Then at the same time, there&rsquo;s a thin line between courtesy and chivalry, and being demeaning. I&rsquo;m willing to cut people slack. I deal with people from a lot of different countries, because I don&rsquo;t know what things are like: is it a cultural thing or is it a personal thing? You don&rsquo;t know.</p> <p>It&rsquo;s funny because I haven&rsquo;t told my boss that I also skate roller derby. In physics, they&rsquo;re not the most supportive of hobbies that aren&rsquo;t physics. So I tell him that I volunteer, and that I have a leadership position. Which is true. So he backs off and he gives me time for it.</p> <p>I was bout manager, and I was running the bouting events. So even though I no longer do that, that&rsquo;s what I told him when I first started, and I haven&rsquo;t told him that I&rsquo;m actually skating in the bouts now. A few of the grad students know, but I sort of keep it on the down low because I don&rsquo;t know how they would react to it.</p> <p>My derby name is Jane Reaction&mdash;trying to get the science in there. It was hard picking a name. It took me months and months because, even if you&rsquo;re not in it, but you&rsquo;re involved in it to some extent like I was, you always think about it: What would my derby name be?</p> <p>My league is the Chi-Town Sirens and my team is The Wheelers. Have you ever &ldquo;Return to Oz&rdquo;? &hellip; Well, you should see it. The wheelers chase Dorothy all through the land of Oz, and they had wheels for hands and they&rsquo;re really really scary. I remember the first time our captain was like, this is what we want our team to be, I was like, These people scare me. [<em>Laughs</em>.]</p> <p>Sometimes it&rsquo;s good, sometimes it&rsquo;s bad. Actually, after this season I think I&rsquo;m going to be retiring. Derby takes a lot of time. I skate three nights a week, and then there are different promotional events and fundraising and then we got a meeting about something. . . I enjoy it just because I like the exercise and doing something physical is a good emotional release. I sort of like how I have this alter ego that not a lot of people know about.</p> <p>The people in derby are just so completely different from the physics world. They&rsquo;re from all different socio-economic strata, there are people who have actual careers and then there are people who tend bar or cut hair. Then you have the more conservative people, and the total punk-rock ethic, and then you have a lot of girls who are very artistic and creative. I feel sometimes that my career requires creativity to some extent, like technical design and stuff, but not the total creative spirit that you see in like these artistic people. It&rsquo;s inspiring to me. I haven&rsquo;t sewn in years and I&rsquo;m awful at it, but suddenly we gotta make our uniforms. And I&rsquo;m like, Shit. I don&rsquo;t know how to sew.</p> <p>And they&rsquo;re like, it doesn&rsquo;t matter. Just do the best you can.</p></p> Thu, 16 Sep 2010 16:35:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/amoore/2010/09/revision-street-sharon-craine-ii/36964 Revision Street: Sharon Craine, 30 http://www.wbez.org/amoore/2010/09/revision-street-sharon-craine-30/36961 <p><p><em>The blonde, waif-like Sharon Craine studies physics by day and sings karaoke by night. She lives in Ukrainian Village.</em></p> <p>The Mutiny&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t say I was always there all the time. When I first went it was mostly for the karaoke, but I remember we just did stupid shit. One night I remember Liz and Joe and Derrick and Pete and Rachel and I&mdash;we toilet papered the bar. At the end of the night there was toilet paper everywhere. This was totally ridiculous, but they didn&rsquo;t care. Ed* is pretty laid back, as long as people aren&rsquo;t getting injured, and as along as you&rsquo;re having fun.</p> <p>I remember Ed telling me about some band, and they would just come in and they would throw chunks of ceiling at each other. So I think that&rsquo;s just sort of how it&rsquo;s always been. And they just want bands. As many bands as possible. You know, other places are always worried about, How are we going to bring in money at the door? But the way the Mutiny works is, they can&rsquo;t ever charge a cover, but they can charge more for the drinks or something when the bands are in. So for them it doesn&rsquo;t really matter what bands are in, just get a band there. So I think it&rsquo;s sort of cool that they just want bands. So they&rsquo;ll sort of take anybody. My boyfriend&rsquo;s band has played there. It&rsquo;s always been that venue where anybody&rsquo;s welcome to play, as long as you like the space.</p> <p>And I like the place. They have all the ceiling tiles painted by different people and I remember the night the night they put the first one in. It was pretty cool, I always liked that. If I had any artistic ability, I&rsquo;d do one myself. But I don&rsquo;t.</p> <p>Ed always talks about how he wants to bring in people from the suburbs and stuff, but I never really saw it that way. You just get a really weird mix of people, like you get the older people, so it has that old-man bar type feel, then you have the punk-rockers who come in, and then you have the&mdash;I remember one of the karaoke guys, Edgar, he was this Hispanic guy with this long hair and he would headbang and sing&mdash;Oh, I can&rsquo;t remember the band. And then there were people like me, just normal people, boring people, regular people who would come in.</p> <p>I am studying physics. My specialization is astrophysics, and even more specialized, I focus on instrumentation. It does mean&mdash;I do like to travel, so it&rsquo;s sort of cool that we get to go to all these different places. But on the other hand, I get sick of traveling. I just got back from Hawaii two weeks ago and that was my fourth run within a year, or not even a year, like ten months. And we have two more runs coming up. It&rsquo;s a nine-hour flight and you&rsquo;re at altitude for a week at a time and you&rsquo;re working the late shift so your sleep schedule is messed up. So I enjoy going, because it&rsquo;s good for my research, but at the same time it&rsquo;s also very tiring. You don&rsquo;t realize how much you enjoy being stationary until you&rsquo;re always on the move. You just want to stay put.</p> <p>I like Chicago a lot and after graduation I would like to stay here. The only problem is in academia it&rsquo;s really hard to find a place to live and then pick a job. You look for, where are the jobs? And then you go and move there.</p> <p>Or you can always work for the government. You know, NASA&rsquo;s hiring. Sometimes. I actually have a NASA fellowship, and a lot of people who get this fellowship go on to work at NASA.</p> <p><strong> </strong></p> <p><em>But you couldn&rsquo;t just start doing astrophysics on your own&mdash;build a rocket in your backyard.</em></p> <p>No. I couldn&rsquo;t. Oh my god, there would be so much red tape. [<em>Laughs</em>.] I&rsquo;m actually not a rocket scientist. So don&rsquo;t get your hopes up. People are always like, Oh you work in astronomy! Show me all the constellations you know! I&rsquo;m like, I&rsquo;m in instrumentation, I don&rsquo;t know the night sky. I could look it up and point the telescope.</p> <p><em>*Ed is the owner of the Mutiny. He opened the joint in 1990.</em></p></p> Wed, 15 Sep 2010 15:43:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/amoore/2010/09/revision-street-sharon-craine-30/36961