We are the Ones We've Been Waiting For -- Saying Goodbye to Senator Kennedy

I was up way too late last night dicking around on the computer when the news came that Ted Kennedy had died. 

It was certainly no surprise, as he had announced his brain cancer well over a year ago.  And this news didn't come with the searing shock of Senator Wellstone's plane crash 2002, or the unexpected loss of Senator Simon a year later.  But as CNN ran the tributes, I still had that odd feeling of blinking into the abyss after Gandalf.

More than 10 years ago, my first job was answering constituent mail in a Senate office.  One letter was from an older man whose wife was in a nursing home.  His Social Security and pension were not enough to pay for her long term care, and they had nearly depleted their savings.  Medicare doesn't pay for nursing homes and Medicaid wouldn't step in and cover the cost because they still had assets -- basically their home and whatever money the man had set aside for his own later years.  His choices were to deliberately make himself poor by selling the house and spending-down his assets or...what?  Abandon his wife?  Move her to a "cheaper" facility? (good luck with that)

Remembering that letter last night sent me cringing through the journal I kept as a 23 year old to read what I wrote at the time:

Friday, I got so fed up that I had to take a walk to calm down.  My fantasy was that I would encounter Senator Kennedy or Senator Moynihan in the halls of the Russell Building.  And they could take me aside, and reassure me, and tell me that the country -- the world -- can be the way we see it.  And that I could go back to my desk energized.  Feeling like what I do does matter and that sooner or later, the mood will shift, and we will do everything we can (a lot) to alleviate people's suffering.

But it didn't happen that way.  I ate some candy and went back to work.

Now that Senator Kennedy is gone, I certainly don't expect the nation to start some version of the slow clap, culminating in riotous applause and health care for all. 

But what I hope doesn't get lost in the praise and lamentations is that we voted for change, so we have to embrace all of what change means.

It's so easy to feel small and Hobbit-like when we lose someone like Senator Kennedy. He was a great and flawed leader. But Ted Kennedy wasn't magical. 

We have to find new ways to acheive the vision he and others had for us.  Getting distracted by Hitler-moustached pictures of President Obama and endlessly interviewing the guys packing heat at town hall meetings isn't the way to get there.

I am honored to have shared some time here with him.

Northerly Island - Urban Prairie Paradise

My friend works on Capitol Hill as a spokesperson for a member of the Illinois delegation. One morning he was woken up at 5 am by call from a Chicago reporter wondering if his boss “would have any comment regarding Mayor Daley’s orders to bulldoze giant Xs into the runway at Meigs Field earlier this morning?”

“Fuck you,” said my friend, and hung up the phone. It was almost April Fool’s Day.

It was no joke.

Roughly six years later, I made my first visit to Northerly Island (technically a peninsula, but, whatever), the park that replaced the airfield in the wake of that dictatorial-yet-badass 2 am Mayor-sanctioned vandalism.

I headed out on my bike this August afternoon because I’m the kind of person who both wants to live in a major city and spend hours at a time not having to look at, hear, be around, or speak to other people. Blame it on a combo of growing up in a town where, like Cheers, everybody knows your name and doing a lot of camping as a child. I need my space. And then I need to be able to pick up Thai food, work in a coffee shop and all kinds of activities not possible if one lives out in the middle of nowhere.

So, Northerly Island.

As soon as I cleared the concert pavilion with its icky backstage-at-the-carnival vibe, I was smacked across the face with so much quiet natural beauty, I couldn't believe I was still in the City.

Is this a field of wildflowers taller than my head? Why yes, yes it is.



I am in love with these sculptures

This installation is called The Daphne Garden and the artist is Dessa Kirk. Just gorgeous. I'm a sucker for Greek mythology, too.

On the eastern shore, there is a rocky beach perfect for meditating and watching the sailboats go by.

A glacier made it.



Skull!! OK, not really.

Northerly Island is home to native flowers, plants and birds. And a couple of blissed-out hours there were the perfect remedy for my City-jangled nerves.


And viewed from this short distance away, I could remember all of the things I love about living here.

The best part? Aside from a few birdwatching ladies and some bicyclists, (well, and a Segway tour, but they cleared out pretty quickly) I hardly saw anyone else the whole time I was here.

I highly recommend Northerly Island for a quick little nature fix. Sure, you can still hear the cars on Lakeshore Drive, but pretty soon you're just focusing on the birds and the breeze.

And if you see me there, just...you know...leave me alone, OK?