Oct 14 2026 2026-10-14 2026-10-14 NoComment by Ross

Things I Like Wednesday…

Posted in Books, Movies, Music, Television

Sometimes this is more…things I’ve watched, listened to, read, or eaten, and not so much recommendations… or they have qualifiers, at best.  Sort of talking about the movie section.  These range from cliché to terrible to what the heck?

Movies:

Even the Lambs Have Teeth (Tubi) – WTF was that?!  It was a stupid fun revenge movie.  Two girls get sex-trafficked (ok, not the fun part), escape, and wreak vengeance.  That’s the fun part.  Also, trivia, the only revenge movie like this without nudity.  So it’s tasteful sex trafficking and revenge

Greater (Tubi) – True story of Brandon Brulsworth.  Rudy with religion, but unlike Rudy, Bruls was pretty awesome and, sadly, a tragic ending (which isn’t a spoiler because a) it’s how the movie starts and b) it’s true and he’s famous so I already knew he died tragically young)

Mr. Majestyx.  (Tubi) – Yes, the 1974 Charles Bronson action flick.  It’s a classic, but dang, the acting stunk (wooden), the plot was kind of silly, and I’m a bit at a loss why it’s a classic (used VERY loosely…more like, good fondly remembered movie).  I prefer Death Wish for Bronson flicks.  Later, though, I will watch The Mechanic.  I think September might be Bronson Movie Month.

The Love Hypothesis –  Good romcom.

Finding Emily – Good romcom. Great soundtrack

Bands:

The Smith Street Band

Panic Shack

The Chats

TV Shows:

Adults – FX/Hulu

Stirling Point – We aren’t the targeted demo, but it was a good show

Furious – Kind of intense

Carrie – This one is more “I’m watching” than I like.  I’ll see it through, but it could’ve/should’ve been a three-90-minute-episode show.

Books:

The Golem and the Jinni – Helene Wecker


Oct 08 2026 2026-10-08 2026-10-08 NoComment by Ross

52 Chicago Dogs — Byron’s

Posted in Chicago, Food
Week 2: Byron’s. 1017 W. Irving Park

I used to live around the corner from Byron’s, so I’ve had more than my fair share of dogs from this place over the years. It’s a classic Chicago hot dog stand.

If Budacki’s has very little seating, Byron’s has almost none. They do have a tented patio now, though, so there’s that.

The place has that old-school, mom-and-pop feel. Pop is cooking the dogs while Mom handles the toppings and runs the register. Everybody has a job, and the operation keeps moving.

Today’s order was two Chicago dogs with peppers, fries, and a Diet Pepsi. Top-notch.

Byron’s has the thin, crispy fries I like, much like Budacki’s. I was already getting two dogs, though, so I passed on my usual go-to: cheese fries. I have a simple rule when it comes to this particular meal. It’s either two dogs and regular fries or one dog and cheese fries. You have to draw the line somewhere.

Two down. 50 Chicago dogs to go.


Oct 07 2026 2026-10-07 2026-10-07 NoComment by Ross

For The Love of God, Please Stop!

Posted in Food

Every few years, there is a new food trend.  Going way back, it was oat bran, kale, quinoa, acai, Bone Broth, or whatever.  I get it.

But by all that is holy, STOP WITH THE HOT HONEY—just freaking stop.


Oct 02 2026 2026-10-02 2026-10-02 NoComment by Ross

52 Chicago Dogs — Budacki’s

Posted in Chicago, Food

I’m starting a new project: 52 Chicago Dogs.

The idea is simple. Once a week, I’m going to visit a different Chicago hot dog stand and get a Chicago dog. I’m planning on doing it every Friday, although that may change when I’m out of town or otherwise occupied. No fancy ratings. No ranking of the dogs. No attempt to determine which place has the “best” Chicago dog.

Just 52 Chicago dogs.

Week 1: Budacki’s.  4739 North Damen

Budacki’s is a neighborhood favorite and, really, my neighborhood go-to. It seemed like the obvious place to start.

Sadly, the owner recently passed away, but the place is still running pretty much as usual.

And it was hopping today.

Lunch at Budacki’s is a pretty good snapshot of a neighborhood hot dog stand. Lots of locals. A lot of workers and tradesmen grabbing lunch. School kids coming in. People who clearly don’t need Google to tell them where to eat lunch.

The place is tiny. There are maybe eight to ten stools at a counter along the window inside, and that’s about it. On a beautiful, sunny day like today, though, there’s outdoor seating, so we sat outside.

That might actually be part of what I like about places like Budacki’s. It isn’t trying to be anything other than the neighborhood hot dog stand. You walk in, get your dog, sit wherever you can, eat lunch and watch the neighborhood go by.

One down. 51 Chicago dogs to go.

Budacki’s – Two Chicago Dogs, Fries, and a Diet Dr. Pepper.

 


Oct 01 2026 2026-10-01 2026-10-01 NoComment by Ross

Chicago Things That Only Exist in the Mind of Post-College Suburbanites

Posted in Chicago

There are certain things about Chicago that apparently only exist in the minds of people who grew up in the suburbs, went away to college, and then moved into the city at 22.

These are people who have lived in Chicago for three years and somehow know more about being a Chicagoan than people who have lived here their entire lives.

They have rules.

And not just rules. Chicago rules.

The kind of rules that, if you don’t follow them, apparently the city will revoke your Chicago card.

Here are a few.

Cubs vs. White Sox

According to the people who have recently moved to the city, Chicago is divided into two warring tribes: Cubs fans on the North Side and White Sox fans on the South Side.

You must pick one.

You cannot possibly root for both.

This is nonsense.

Plenty of Chicagoans root for both teams.

Because here’s the thing: we root for Chicago.

Sure, if the Cubs and White Sox are playing each other, you might have a preference. And yes, we might make fun of North Siders or South Siders depending on where we live and who we’re talking to.

That’s part of the fun.

But when it comes down to it, they’re both Chicago teams.

When one of them is playing somebody from St. Louis, Milwaukee, Detroit, New York or wherever, I’m not suddenly going to pretend they’re the enemy because I have a preferred baseball team.

That’s not how this works.

The idea that Chicagoans are required to hate one of our own teams is something I suspect was invented by somebody who discovered Wrigleyville after graduation and thought neighborhood boundaries were a personality.

Ketchup on a hot dog

This one drives me crazy.

Yes, you can put ketchup on a hot dog in Chicago.

You just don’t put ketchup on a Chicago dog.

Those are two different things.

A Chicago dog is a specific hot dog. It comes with mustard, relish, onion, tomato, sport peppers, celery salt, a pickle and whatever other argument people want to have about the proper arrangement of vegetables.

There is already tomato on it.

Putting ketchup on it would be redundant.

It’s like putting pineapple on a Hawaiian pizza and then announcing that pineapple is forbidden on pizza.

No.

You can put ketchup on a regular hot dog.

You can put mustard on it.

You can put sauerkraut on it.

You can put whatever the hell you want on it.

The only people who seem genuinely offended by this are the gatekeepers.

You know the type.

They’ve lived in Logan Square for fourteen months and now they’re prepared to lecture you about the proper application of condiments.

Relax.

Nobody is coming to take away your Chicago passport because you ordered ketchup.

Malört

And then there’s Malört.

Malört is supposedly this essential part of the Chicago experience.

Except it isn’t.

It wasn’t.

And it certainly wasn’t when I was growing up.

Somehow this stuff has gone from obscure, terrible-tasting liquor to The Official Beverage of Authentic Chicago™.

It isn’t.

It’s a manufactured Chicago tradition that seems to have become popular because people who moved here wanted something they could use to demonstrate that they were really Chicago now.

“Yeah, I’m from Naperville, but I’ve lived in Chicago for six years and I drink Malört.”

Congratulations.

I have bad news for you.

Drinking something that tastes like somebody distilled a tire fire doesn’t make you more Chicago.

And let’s be honest about what happens.

Some bartender gives a group of twenty-something transplants a round of Malört.

Everyone takes a shot.

Everyone makes the same horrible face.

Everyone laughs.

Someone takes a picture.

And suddenly it’s a Chicago tradition.

No.

That’s not a tradition.

That’s a bar trick.

Malört isn’t some sacred Chicago inheritance passed down from generation to generation.

It’s something that became fashionable because people started telling other people that it was fashionable.

You don’t have to drink Malört to be a Chicagoan.

You don’t have to hate the Cubs if you’re a Sox fan.

You don’t have to hate the Sox if you’re a Cubs fan.

And you can put ketchup on your damn hot dog.

You just can’t put it on a Chicago dog and then call it a Chicago dog.

There.

Now you can go back to Naperville.


Sep 30 2026 2026-09-30 2026-09-30 NoComment by Ross

Where I’m At… OMG, I’ve Become My Dad!

Posted in Martini Recap

I have so many memories of sitting around the dinner table talking about something that happened during the day. It could have been something at work, something in the news, something someone did, whatever. And I would explain what happened, why it was horrible, and why the person involved was obviously an idiot.

I was young. I knew everything.

My dad, meanwhile, would just keep eating.

“Yeah, but I don’t know all the facts.”

This drove me absolutely nuts.

No, Dad. You don’t understand. This happened. It was horrible. I’m telling you exactly what happened. What more do you need to know?

“Well, I don’t know all the facts.”

He’d say it in that very lawyerly way of his, as if he were sitting in a courtroom instead of eating dinner.

At the time, I thought he was being maddeningly cautious.

Now I’m his age.

And, OMG, I’ve become my dad.

I find myself saying it all the time:

“Well, I don’t know all the facts.”

Something happens and my immediate reaction isn’t necessarily outrage anymore. It’s, Huh. I wonder what actually happened.

Part of the reason this blog rarely gets into social or political issues is precisely because of this. I don’t know all the facts.

Take whatever the latest controversy is at Cornell. I don’t know all the facts of what happened, what didn’t happen, what was said, what wasn’t said, or what happened before or after the part that made it onto the internet. So I’m probably not going to immediately form an opinion and get outraged about it.

Same thing with some new policy from some administration. I may eventually decide that I think it’s a good policy or a terrible policy. But first I’d like to know what the policy actually says, why it was adopted, what problem it’s supposed to address, and what the consequences are.

That doesn’t mean I have no responsibility to become informed. There are plenty of issues that matter enough that I should do the work and learn about them.

But I’ve actually gone a step further than my dad.

I don’t have to form an opinion at all.

That’s the part I don’t think I understood when I was younger.

Take the Cornell situation again. Something happened—or didn’t happen—at a fraternity at Cornell. I don’t need to turn that into a referendum on every fraternity, every college student, every guy, every woman, or society as a whole.

Maybe what happened was terrible. Maybe it wasn’t what it initially appeared to be. Maybe there’s a complicated story somewhere in between.

I don’t know all the facts.

And even if I did know all the facts, I don’t necessarily need to extrapolate that one event into some grand theory about the world.

I remember a Supreme Court justice—I can’t remember which one—making a point along these lines about deciding the actual issue before the Court rather than turning it into a decision about every larger issue surrounding it.

That idea has stuck with me, even though I’m applying it to something much less consequential than constitutional law.

Sometimes something is just the thing that happened.

That’s it.

One of the most freeing things I’ve discovered in later adulthood is that I don’t have to have an opinion about everything someone puts in front of me.

The internet seems to operate on the opposite principle. Something happens, and within fifteen minutes we’re all expected to know exactly what it means, who is to blame, what it says about society, and what we should be outraged about next.

I’m increasingly comfortable saying:

“Well, I don’t know all the facts.”

And sometimes:

“I don’t know enough to have an opinion.”

And occasionally, perhaps most importantly:

“I don’t need to have an opinion.”

Dad, I’m sorry.

You were right.

But you could have been a little less annoying about it at dinner.

 


Sep 30 2026 2026-09-30 2026-09-30 NoComment by Ross

Things I Like….

Posted in Beer

This isn’t a full post, but it happens to be Wednesday and recently I found something I like so….

I am NOT a fan of Heineken 0.0.  If/When I drink non-alcoholic beer, I go with Athletic.  BUT, this week I received two free samples (5 oz) of flavored Heineken 0.0.  The first one I had was lime.  I have to say, it was good.  Like, I would drink that regularly.  The second was some nectarine/juniper.  It was fine. Not as good as the lime, but still decent enough that it would work.

I didn’t bother to Google it, but I wish they’d make a grapefruit one like Steigl Radler.

 


Sep 24 2026 2026-09-24 2026-09-24 NoComment by Ross

Robe Time!

Posted in Something Good

Sipping a martini.  Listening to Louis Prima.  Good book.  Pre-season hockey and Thursday Night Football on tap.  Pizza.  Robe time!!

It’s great to be alive!!


Sep 21 2026 2026-09-21 2026-09-21 NoComment by Ross

I Wonder What Else I Did?….

Posted in Memories

Social Distortion is one of my favorite bands. I even have their logo tattooed on my arm. I had never seen them live until last year, when I finally got the chance. Then I got to see them again this weekend at Riot Fest.

Today, while scrolling Instagram, I came across an interview with Social D’s leader, Mike Ness. He mentioned touring with The Ramones in the early ’90s.

Hey, wait a minute. I saw The Ramones in the early ’90s.

A quick Google search confirmed the date: October 31, 1992, at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago.

Yup. That was the concert I went to.

And guess who the opening band was?

Social Distortion.

So I had seen Social Distortion before. I just didn’t remember it.

To my credit—or chagrin—I was pretty drunk at that concert (and most of my 20’s). My memories mostly consist of being drenched in sweat in the mosh pit and then showing up hammered at a bar where my on-again, off-again girlfriend from law school was decidedly not happy to see me.

Fun times.

Apparently, I have been attending Social Distortion concerts for 34 years and only just figured it out.

Now I’m wondering what else I did in my 20s that I have completely forgotten.


Sep 20 2026 2026-09-20 2026-09-20 NoComment by Ross

What a Great Weekend

Posted in Something Good

This weekend was superb.

Friday, I spent the day at Riot Fest. I rode a Divvy there—about 50 minutes—and arrived around 12:30. I spent the day listening to great music, and my wife joined me around 3:30. About an hour later, more friends showed up.

Saturday, I went alone. My wife doesn’t really care for that type of music and only goes because she loves me. One day was plenty for her, and I appreciated that. This time I took the “L.” Easy peasy.

I got to the festival around 1:00, just in time for all the bands I wanted to see. Then the rain came, and the festival closed early.

Which was fine with me.

I don’t love the dark, and I especially don’t love the massive crowds that tend to show up for the headliners. So an early closing was almost a bonus. My wife picked me up—which was very cool of her—and we went home, watched some shows, and had some time to just chit-chat.

Sunday was supposed to be another day at the festival, but I had either already seen the bands I wanted to see or wasn’t sufficiently excited about them to brave the rain. So I gave my tickets to a former student who was absolutely thrilled to get them. That made me feel pretty good.

Instead, my wife and I went to yoga, I watched football, had brunch with my younger son, made a tasty dinner, and now I’ve got the evening to watch a movie with my wife.

It has been a really good weekend. Actually, I’ve been in a great mood all week. And tonight I finally figured out why.

My wife was a little blue tonight. I asked her what was wrong, and she blamed the rain and a few other things. Fair enough. I wasn’t going to interrogate her about it. But it got me thinking about why I’ve been in such a good mood.

Sure, I had plenty of reasons. I went to a music festival. I hung out with friends. I probably drank too many beers. I spent a rainy day at home with my family. I got some exercise. I ate some good food.

All of that helps. But then it hit me:

I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.

No Sunday Scaries. No feeling that little knot in my stomach because Monday is coming. No dread of trudging into another week dealing with administrators and apathetic students who are counting down the minutes until the final bell on Friday. Apparently, that’s a pretty significant weight to have removed from my cortisol-producing gland. Or wherever the hell cortisol comes from. And that’s interesting to me.

I don’t think I hate working. I’ve worked my entire adult life and have never had a problem with it. I actually like teaching when I’m teaching students who want to be students.

So maybe it’s not work. Maybe it’s teaching. Or maybe it’s CPS. I suspect it’s mostly the latter.

I never had the Sunday Scaries before CPS. I didn’t spend my Sundays thinking, Oh God, tomorrow I have to go back there.

Now I’m getting a chance to find out.

I have a phone interview for a temporary job at a Catholic school this week. It’s only a two-month position over the winter. I hope I get it—not because I particularly need two months of work or the money, but because I’d really like to experience teaching somewhere other than CPS. I want to know what teaching feels like when the institution surrounding it isn’t sucking the life out of me.

And even if I get the job, I still have eight weeks before it starts to relax.

If I don’t get it, well…

I’m apparently going to be in a good mood anyway.

That’s not a bad place to be.

I’ve got a bunch of things planned this week—exercise, a game night at a bar, making tamales, and whatever else I decide to get myself into.

For the first time in a long time, Monday isn’t something I have to survive. It’s just another day.

It’s great to be alive.