| Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat | Sun |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| « Dec | Feb » | |||||
| 1 | 2 | |||||
| 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |
| 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |
| 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 |
| 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |
| 31 | ||||||
Here is a table full of some of the people I’m in class with at the iO Training Center every Friday. For the past couple of weeks a handful of us have gotten together at the Salt and Pepper Diner, right next door to the theater, shoved tables together and started to get to know each other. We just finished our sixth week of first level classes, and only have two weeks to go. Time flies!
It’s impossible to miss this gem at the intersection of Western and Fullerton. Behind the buzzing neon window display a particle board wall bristles with security cameras for sale. To make them look more high tech, they’re all back lit with blue LED light, the most high tech color of all. Above the shop there may be an office that looks like this.
It’s important not to confuse this store with the world famous Boring Store, a little further south on Milwaukee Avenue. The Boring Store is a great novelty shop and a heck of a lot more fun than the paranoid and creepy Spy Store. And though I may be killed for blowing their cover, I’ll write it anyway, the Boring Store is a front for a really cool writing and tutoring program 866Chi. One of several big city storefront writing workshops started by author Dave Eggers.
end transmission…
I must have been twelve or so. I was rummaging around in the storage space formed by the roof and the hip wall, behind the chimney in our old house on Billings Avenue.
Maybe I was going through an old suitcase, but I came across a threadbare black athletic shirt. Was it made out of jersey netting? On its front was a big graphic in white ink: a wicked looking dagger, impossibly jabbed through a pair of over-sized dice. Their may or may not have been a mean looking snake on there, and in a big arc over the graphic, the initials P. I. T. A. in big block letters.
This strange piece of clothing was my dad’s. I asked him about it and got a great batch of stories of his high school days. As I remember it, he and a group of dudes that made mischief together dubbed themselves the Pain In The Asses. (Or Pains in the Ass?) I really wanted him to have stories of rumbles with rival gangs or at least a drag race or something. I think he told me all they did was organize tag football games. I really wanted that jersey to be a gang shirt.
Anyway, I got to thinking about all this because I came across this great site full of old greaser gang names and compliments cards. A real treasure trove.
These guys were the closest to where I’m living now:
COAL YARD GANG:
The Coal Yard Gang was at Lakewood and Wolfram, near Southport and Lincoln Avenue. Just a local white gang originating in the early 60’s. Mostly just taking care of local business. Our colors were Black and White. I was mostly a partier. I was too small, and often found myself in over my head way too many times. I remember Lennies across from Lane Tech. I can still taste that greasy bag of fries, ten cent pin-ball games. It was neat place. Everyone was safe there. Even girlfriends could meet you there. (Via Reddit)
Digging a little more, I found this little documentary on the Gaylords. Finding out that my dad wasn’t really a gangster was bad, but it’s even more disappointing to find out how hung up on race these dudes are.
P.I.T.A. well…. NOT a group of ‘gangbangers’ ! More like neighborhood guys in desperate need of a name for their floor hockey team. We used to all hang at da park. Every group (grade level) or age had a bench to sit on and to ease the tensions between us older, younger, really older (High School) kids. The Phs Ed. Instructor for the Park District created a hockey league for us to beat the shit out of each other in a organized way. It was fantastic! It had rules, and penalties, just like the BlackHawk games we loved to listen to on the radio. Because none of us could afford a game ticket or play on REAL ice cuz we were city kids. Middle class families living from paycheck to paycheck….and yah they were a real pain in the ass!
This is from my old classmate Andy Lunday’s new blog and tumblr account. He and I were in art classes together all through high school. By coincidence we reconnected at a highway bagel/coffee shop in the middle of Oregon.
Were you on a bike Andy? I can’t remember.
Anyway, maybe you recognize Andy’s work already, that’s because he sent me a hand inked card a hundred years ago that’s been in my unanswered mail pile that whole time.
