Saturday, July 11, 2009

The House on Mango St, Those Who Don't, Lethargic Real Estate, and Rogers Park


I get the impression that 'those who don't' want to know any better just don't know Rogers Park. Other than a few malt liquor drinkers and litterpigs, we see little on our Beat. This is not Englewood, but I am sure that Englewood has its 'pleasant pockets.'
I have no doubt that drugs are dealt in RP, but it isn't my job to deal with it. I have no doubt that drugs are dealt down the entire Northshore, but on more discreet terms. It is difficult to label every pop, a gun, when most are fireworks or cap guns. I may groan about minor issues, like inconsideration, because there is really not much to snipe about.

The few aberrations in our densely packed neighborhoods are truimphantly reported by our neighbors 'in over-blog.' Some report crime as if it was some sort of calling to eventually live and witness it in Rogers Park. I don't have time to check the Bearcat scanner; I let someone else live that life. I am sure that most in the suburbs have little time to scan and trumpet the 'Bearcat beat' either, so events are under-reported. Its not like mob action does not occasionally happen in the suburbs.

Its been over eleven consecutive years in Rogers Park and countless others since the early sixties. It is the City; sirens go off, but most are for heart patients en route to St. Francis. Those who triage the tragedies find those easier to spot than the triumphs. Truimphs are not reported to Police. Politicians often, not always, report propaganda. Perhaps, there is solace to blame low real estate sales on minimal crime, rather than the economy or lethargic real estate agents.

How many of us walk by the real estate 'for sale signs' and recognize signals of stupidity? Earth to condo crumudgeon; if you want to sell your condo, then pick up the trash around it! Note to real estate agent, hire a neighborhood kid to pick up the trash on the hour, every hour. Thought to neighbor, if you want to experience new, more thoughtful neighbors, then pick up the trash when you walk your dog! Maybe a change of scenery is good. Find neighbors who care by giving them something to care about.

Those who blame those with fireworks may have to discuss their disgust with Chicago's Finest. It seems like priorities do not include fireworks until someone's eardrum ruptures or a finger gets blown off. Of course, at that point, an arrest must be made, if possible. I've always thought that a 'controlled burn' could prove amusing, provided, adults were actually mature enough to supervise their kids. We may agree to disagree.

What is daily life in your Rogers Park neighborhood? How many of us routinely pass through the Terminal at night? How many of us routinely experience the night air, unabated? How many of us treat those around us with respect, rather than looking at neighbors as if you are their next victim? I thought the expression was Live and Let Live until the Ian Flemming twist!

Of course, back then, we did not see enough color unless it was on tv. And, of course, the suburbs see less to none until you hit North Chicago! Imagine, an African American President and a nation still subtly segregated. The issue is why? How long will this B-S- go on? Is there something that plagues those who treasure immediate pleasure over the Puritan ethic?

Are there fewer opportunities due to a propensity to arrest and convict those with more melanin? What does it take to awaken and respect those who deserve better? How can neighbors subtly encourage parents to treat their kids right and encourage them to do more without pissing them off?

What prevents success from doing more for the neighborhoods? Should success creep North, take a holiday, or can it work from within? Are there some that find a Rogers Park shabby chic existence worth justifying an economic downgrade for other residents? Does picking up a little litter really raise property values? Or does it improve our attitude and outlook?
How many of us remember the old Spike Lee films, when folks move from Black and White to the colorful existence of Central Park, free of all images of trash? Where is the love?