Sally Duberson

 Sally Duberson was a Playmate in September of 1965 and I fell in love with her sometime in the 70s. I had only seen the centerfold until, well, Google Images. But I did find this cool ad for Kent, too

Lake & Walnut

Walnut is the reverse of Maypole, although it runs erratically. Much like Crystal, the street I lived on as a kid. This is at the Ashland stop, facing north. On the way back to the el, I saw this really ghost-y sign, so I tried my best to get a decent shot. And that's that for now.

Maypole Street

Maypole roughly parallels Lake Street, and I first knew of the street after Frankie Machine went running from the cops at the end of Nelson Algren's The Man with The Golden Arm. The hipster shit isn't this far west yet, though within a few blocks there's the newer housing built around United Center. But there's still a wedge of squalor right off of Ashland Avenue. Poverty is rough on the eyes, but it is still more realistic than the bullshit real estate projects that will soon enough force the people who live here far away.

The Injuries of March 15th

I'm posting these here just as an ass-backwards way of having an easier way of printing them out. And, again, for any of you thinking, hey, why doesn't Wayne sue Metra?, well, it was MY fault I fell. Besides, their lawyers would just say I was doped up on bipolar meds or some other bullshit. And it was indeed my fault, I'm used to my body walking exactly where my brain tells it not to. 

Anyhow. More shots of the Lake Street el later.

The

I'm posting these just to have them in the ubernets. Always helps in case the secret government erases my life. The photos are, of course, the result of my fall onto the railroad tracks. For anyone suggesting I might sue, well, no. Because it was my own damn fault.

Chicago Blow Pipe Co.

This factory with the missing letters is at the edge of Oak Park. I made a mental note to get off the train at California on the way back, not the best of neighborhoods, because I thought this business, Chicago Blow Pipe, looked neat. I see to have an affinity for Fairfield. Here I am at the Blow Pipe Co. I grew up at the corner of Crystal and California, and if it wasn't for Humboldt Park, Fairfield would be right there. And when I was hit by the car in 1989, I was at the intersection of 55th and Fairfield.

Green Line Four Sticks

Check the clock at Roosevelt. This is from when I went to Oak Park to visit Ileana. In the next few days, I'll have some cool shots I'll post, as I went to ground level just before rush hour, when the angle of the sun gave up some pretty nice shadows.