The pictures featured in the last post were taken on Tuesday, July 27th.

I walked to Canaryville via McKinley Park, Pershing, Racine, and Exchange. I photographed the Stockyards Arch and Bank, walked south on Halsted photographing the International Amphitheatre, Hart Plaza, and the remnants, than wove my way east and west, heading back north to the tracks.

EDIT: This post contains my personal impressions of Canaryville as collected through July 2004 by visiting the neighborhood, reading, and interviewing residents. I undertstand that there are some factual errors here, but as this is not a project I am actively working on, I have not made changes.

The pilot of the Orange Line drifted a bit when pulling into the Halsted Street stop.  He pulled up on the brakes suddenly to avoid shooting past the end of the platform, and we well went stumbling to the floor.

Normally, my loyalties tilt a bit more pink than green, but I’ve known this guy for a few years now, and he’s both capable and committed to the welfare of Maine.

Having myself lived in a part of the country afflicted with economic blight and severe brain drain, I can’t tell you how important Matt’s style of passion and loyalty will be for most of our communities.

In this town…

I think I mentioned that last Sunday, after the completion of the Occlusion retreat, my brother and I dropped off Elisabeth, visited Jessica, and returned to Michigan. We got in a little bit after midnight.

Dear John,

This is the letter you’ve been predicting me writing for awhile.

Your expectation has made you angry.

At first I responded by taking a summer off work to work with you. I did this again. You’ve only gotten angrier.

I don’t do this often. This is worth reading.

http://www.mlive.com/news/fljournal/index.ssf?/base/news-22/1089905245134460.xml

For the record, Saginaw, Pontiac, and Detroit are pretty ghetto too…

~ Connor

Jessica said that the last entry here (the one with all the photos) sounded like a cheesy tour guide.

She’s right: it does.

I don’t know why I fall into clichè so easily. I really enjoy tour guides; they explore regional distinctions that, however obvious and superficial, are often never noticed.

I’m describing this as a political post because it ultimately is, even if I’m also describing my last week.

In the last several years I’ve worked in an oncology clinic in which four doctors visited with dozens of patients each daily, a box office in which the entire database of a sold-out season broke down a week before opening, and as a dishwasher with mafia style management and nightly fights in the parking lot.