Saturday, September 25, 2010

Old Oak Park

Michael's not in the photo, but witness the phones: where are you?
So yesterday we drove to the far south suburbs (Oak Lawn) for Sam's wake.  I looked at Mark and George on George's porch, and I felt that pride of living in Oak Park.  I think that Oak Park in the 1980's was like Berkeley in the 1980's.  Now both of these places are quite a bit different from what they were, and they haven't exactly evolved in the same direction.  Driving all the way back home up Central, then Harlem, I observed that the two of these guys, plus Michael, were a great collection of old Oak Park. An awesome group, during this two hour trip, we deduced that we are only one degree of separation from Tavi, that Mark is more interesting than all of the other alums of his fancy college: "I am not a number...I am a free man!"  and that there are some really big cockroaches crawling around one of our local hospitals.


  1. "I am not a number...I am a free man!"

    Despite my protests, it didn't work. I was number 6.

  2. Yes. And if you watch the Prisoner until the bitter end, you discover the same truth.