Happening Ten Years Time Ago

This was where I lived in St. Louis. Pretty cool, huh? 

Funny how the smallest things can lead to greater insights.

This past weekend, I spent some time in my yearly clean-up/organizing efforts - going through papers, tearing up and prepping for recycling, when I came across some old papers from my last job in St. Louis.

Ten years ago.

Ten years ago, I was working for a local nonprofit - a settlement house. (I'm not going to name names because...well, this post will be rather inflammatory, and I have little interest in revisiting old hurts). My recently-discovered paperwork concerned my then-supervisor's efforts to create a hostile work environment. My job, at the time, was a federally funded effort, and I understood both the requirements of the grant as well as the needs to run the program.

My then-supervisor had (I later found out) been reluctant to hire anyone, and was doing everything he can to provoke me. So much so that at this point, my emotional well-being was a wreck. Worrying about Mom (who was well into the process of pre-liver transplant preparation) and Dad (who was having heart problems, possibly requiring a triple bypass) did not help. So my records were, well, formal documentation.

What's also striking is that, within a month, my father would have surgery...and pass away a week before Labor Day. My then-supervisor and I had a showdown with his boss. And it was within that month that I decided to leave St. Louis.

(It helped that when I talked about it with Mom, I asked her if she needed me to move back - not wanted, but needed. Even though my aunt would be coming up to live and care for her, Mom needed me to come back. And I sure as heck wasn't going to argue).

In recent weeks, I've felt a slight nostalgia for St. Louis - not to the point where I want to move back, but certain memories are making themselves present. Perhaps it's the current state of activity I'm in, but there were some really small memories - moments - that I really am starting to treasure about my experience there.

(And I don't worry about missing out on catching up - I may not make it back to St. Louis on a regular basis, but we always have mutual visits to Chicago, as well as Facebook).

Moments like the one-and-only time a female friend and I went out to lunch...and then to the library. (Yes, I was a jackass. If it had been an honest-to-goodness date, I would have messed up). Fun with a long-standing colleague whom I have lost contact with - I'm tempted to look this person up on Facebook, but they deserve their privacy. Regular interaction with friends that are now occasional Facebook updates and/or phone calls.

But in all honesty....moving to Chicago was probably one of the best actions I've ever taken in my life. Nothing wrong with St. Louis - after recovering from a devastating breakup, I needed a place to reinvent myself. St. Louis provided a great, safe environment for me to "grow up" and mature, developing my independence and gaining self-respect and self-confidence.

The past ten years have been a challenge....but quite honestly, I've come far.

(Post-script: that former supervisor? Last I heard, he eventually left that particular organization - I'm not sure whether he left voluntarily or was "encouraged" to leave - but he's supposedly consulting. I think it's safe to say...I've moved onto bigger and better bosses. And as a freelancer/consultant, I'm know I'm definitely better off).

Eight Years Ago This Month....

Sunset over 64th & Pulaski

...things leading up to the move were a blur: so much so that I don't recall what happened in what order.

With my impending move from St. Louis back to Chicago, I had left an extremely dysfunctional work environment. (One thing I don't miss about that time - daily cluster headaches). Packing, saying goodbye to friends, setting up the details of the move - all of these blurred into one continual experience. The one thing I do remember was the actual day of the move: my huge, loft-like apartment empty (only the "warp chamber"/support beam standing), Dax upset that her litter was moved (and that the carrier was out), and waitng for the movers - and my aunt - to contact me with next steps.

Remembering the day of the move feels more like a hallucinatory dream that an actual experience: heading down to Lambert Airport to pick up the van - then my aunt - for the one-way drive back to Chicago. Then meeting with the movers who emptied my apartment (and my storage locker in the basement) who would meet me a few days later. Packing the van, putting Dax in her carrier, and then heading down I-55 towards Chicago.

The drive itself was relatively uneventful - my aunt had offered to switch off, but I don't remember if we did or not. I do recall that, in listening to a Monkees CD (my aunt was a huge fan), Dax - who had been silent during the day - had begun crying up a storm during the first drum break of this song - ironically, just as we left Missouri proper:


After six hours, we arrived at Mom's house - at the time, she lived in a large three bedroom apartment - the same one she and Dad had rented years ago. It had only been eight months since Dad's passing - there was still a sense of emptiness about the place, a lingering discomfort mostly due to its size. (Thankfully, Mom moved into a smaller one bedroom in a different neighborhood - one like the more pleasant neighborhoods in south St. Louis - two and a half years ago). Within moments she joined us in the van and we headed for my new apartment.

Ironically, it was only meant to be "temporary" - it was a rear two-bedroom unit behind a storefront on Pulaski. (Two shops - a dog groomer and an insurance agent - shared the front. The dog groomer is still there; the other storefront is a small travel agency). It was dark, hidden, but had some of the unique charms of my unit in Eugene, Oregon of all places - it felt more like a small house than an apartment. Granted, the view could be better (windows opened up to a small garage, and then an alley), but there was a nice, almost peaceful quality to the residence. It would take some time to adjust (especially for Dax - it wasn't as large as the St. Louis apartment, and was more cramped due to lack of storage space.

That initial year-and-a-half was full of challenges - finding a job within a near-depression, lack of state funding meant very little in the nonprofit space....but through determination and hard work (especially starting with Net Tuesday, where I found my "tribe", as it were), I managed to squeeze out some temporary jobs, followed by being hired (through assertive networking) as a freelance agency analyst.

Since then, life has been pretty interesting....rebuilding something of a social/dating life (something I did far more frequently than in St. Louis), Dax's passing two years ago, various career changes, and eventually the decision to form my own consultancy. (In between, keeping my civic engagement high, moving from Net Tuesday to both nerdy board member and unofficial Doctor Who social chair). My life right now is full of promise...

....and something which, even at the time, I couldn't say about the move. In many ways, Chicago's internal conversations parallel those of St. Louis' - the ever present "why can't we be a great city again?" conversation lingers. But unlike St. Louis, Chicago seems to be more willing to look inside and deal with much tougher issues. In all honesty, part of me wished I could help my St. Louis friends during the Ferguson crisis, but now I'm feeling as if my transition is somehow complete: I've been more involved in local matters, have my own collection of friends, and feel a bit settled in my 'transition' apartment.

And to think it only took me eight years....

Remembering the Past: Star Clipper Comics

When I moved to St Louis, I divided my time between two comics shops - one was a more fanboyish-oriented shop on Manchester Avenue, just a hop, skip and a jump from Skinker....and on the way home from work.

(For those countries using the metric system, a "hop, skip and a jump" translates into "a stone's throw"). But after awhile, when Star Clipper Comics moved into the Delmar Loop....I knew I had found my hangout. So much that I am deeply saddened to hear that they will be closing.

See, I lived about a mile away from the Delmar Loop - just on the other side of Skinker, that street that divided the sordid city from the up-and-coming county. (It's a St. Louis thing - kind of like the north side/south side rivalry in Chicago, but even more trivial). The Delmar Loop was bordered by Washington University, UMSL, and St Louis University, so it nestled in a comfy municipality named "University City"....and was the closest I would come to reliving the college-town vibe of Eugene, Oregon.

(Yes, I lived in Eugene, Oregon. It was a painful time. I'll blog about it one of these days).....

But Star Clipper, even amongst the highlights of the Tivoli (a grand, renovated old-school theater), the Pageant (a new-ish theater when I lived in St. Louis), Vintage Vinyl (my all-time favorite record store) and Blueberry Hill (where Chuck Berry would play a monthly show), Star Clipper had class. Besides being in the heart of the Delmar Loop, Star Clipper's interior was beautiful; white and wood, with "floppies" in racks along the wall; graphic novels organized in bookcases that would make Border's blush; and a plethora of related items (like t-shirts) in the back.

It was also one of the few places that had anime-flavored media that didn't come across as creepy or infantile. Their staff was courteous, their pull-file was immaculate, and quite honestly - it was a comic lover's dream. It was a place that I would encourage friends moving to St. Louis to check out. In a city where your high school was the ultimate social determinant, Star Clipper was a bastion of excellence in the midst of an already vibrant, lively community.

In fact, the last time I visited Star Clippers was my last visit to St. Louis (a yearly ritual interrupted by exacerbated unemployment). After seeing my friend Dave (with whom I stayed, and who is - at best - the bad influence I longed for), I went to the Loop and headed for my favorite haunts. At Star Clipper, I noticed several graphic novels on sale, and I went to the counter to pay.

Was I on their list?

I used to be, I replied. The clerk looked me up anyway.

I still counted, even though I ended my pull file before  the move back to Chicago. I still got my discount as a member....despite not purchasing comics there in awhile.

In a way, I regret the inability to return - oh, sure, repeated purchases might not have saved Star Clipper, but at the very least....I would have had the chance to say goodbye.

Sojourn in St. Louis

Last Memorial Day, I took a bus trip to St. Louis. Maybe, at some point, I'll blog in more detail about it - how I caught up with old friends, realized life goes on without me, and found out that I can never go home again...but I can always visit.

Until then, here's a flickr slideshow. Enjoy!

One Year Ago This Week

I had made the decision way back in January, but as I sat in my apartment, waiting for the movers, it was hard to believe that it was going to soon be over...and that I would be moving back to Chicago.

Much of my decision back then was motivated by my mother's health - as a complication of her diabetes, she had developed non-alcoholic cirrhosis, and needed care. (My aunt - who would be arriving by plane that morning - had moved from downstate Illinois to help care for Mom). It was extremely difficult - the last major move had been in December 1998 from Eugene, Oregon, and was motivated primarily by wanting to escape the aftermath of a painful romantic breakup.

Since then, I had worked towards building a life in St. Louis - developing a great professional network, a strong network of friends (including pal Brian), and building a life. The kind of life I had always wanted - to move elsewhere, to develop my own life independent of my family, of old ties - in short, to become my own person in some McGoohan-esque way.

(Heck, I had even developed a good relationship with my local comic shop in St. Louis - when does that ever happen to a guy?)

But soon, I would be leaving it - boxes and furniture strewn across my large, I-can't-believe-I'm-getting-this-inexpensively apartment, my cat locked in my bedroom. After picking up my rented minivan - and my aunt from Lambert Airport - we waited for the movers to arrive. After packing up everything, my aunt and I began driving from my apartment, through downtown St. Louis, and headed home, my cat silent except to "sing along" to this tune. Eight hours later - after stopping to visit Mom - we headed for my new apartment, a modest two-bedroom behind some storefront businesses. (Originally built so that a family could live behind their business).

In the past year, things have been...well, mixed. I've depended mostly on the kindness of temporary employment (although I was able to join an organization similar to one I was involved with in St. Louis). I've caught up with old friends and touched base with new ones. Even got to meet some fellow bloggers - not just those visiting from own of town (yes, I'm talking about you, RF), but a group of local Chicago bloggers. It's been a tough year, and I'm not quite where I would like to be, but I'm getting there. But I realized that, although I love St. Louis - I had missed Chicago. Maybe this is a rebound/reconciliation, where I realize that I never knew how good I had it...or where I realize it can be better. But one step at a time, as some people would say.

The best lesson I've learned this past year - sometimes, life doesn't progress vertically, but horizontally.

And if you understand that...you're one up on me.