Banana Shpeel: What a Slip Up

We've been lucky enough to see some great theatre since arriving in the US, but this afternoon was the exception to the rule. We went to see Cirque Du Soleil's latest production Banana Shpeel at the Chicago Theatre, or BS as I prefer to call it.
Being the author of a spiel myself, I couldn't wait to see how the professionals handled it. It's billed as part vaudeville, part dance, part comedy. Unfortunately it turned out to be part repetitive, part stupid, part irritating.
I wouldn't have known it had anything to do with Cirque had it not been for the title. If I were them, I'd take my name off it now.
It opened with an audition scene, not unlike my own in Holy Neuteronomy! When I wrote mine, I knew it wasn't exactly uncharted ground, but as an amateur, what do I know?
Well, quite a lot apparently. They produced ridiculous characters that were irritating when I first saw their counterparts on TV in the early 1960s. Their jokes weren't funny the first time, and I'm afraid it doesn't make them any funnier just because you repeat them later on in the show.
The energy was lifted by the dance scenes, but even they lacked originality. There were a couple of reasonable balancing acts, but one male pole dancer does not make up for a wasted evening's entertainment.
However, the strangest thing of all was the reaction of some of the audience members. The women on either side of us seemed to find the comedy hysterically funny. One of them was sipping wine throughout the first half which may have explained why.
The event wasn't a complete waste of time, fortunately. The theatre itself is beautiful.....

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

The day after Thanksgiving means just one thing in Naperville - Christmas! Once again I went down to downtown Naperville to watch the Little Friends Electrical Parade.

This is what happens if you insist on having a pillow fight just before you're due to perform.

What would Christmas be without a few little drummer boys?

No. St Patrick's Day isn't for another three months!

So this is how GPS works....

Have a Holly Trolley Christmas

"I know it's Christmas dear, but I still don't see why you had to stop for hitch hikers."

Meanwhile, in another corner of town, a new tradition. A giant tree at Main Street Promenade.

Great baubles of fire.

Midday Madness

The trouble with sale shopping is you never know what you're going to get. There's no point in making a list because you are guaranteed those will be the exact things you cannot find anywhere.

Today was Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving when the holiday shopping season kicks off. We learnt our lesson on our first Thanksgiving, so no more midnight madness for us. This year, it was midday madness instead. Just as ridiculous but at least you get a good night's sleep.

Being a shopaholic, Grumpy was not happy with my plan.

"We'll just get up when we feel like it and see if we can get into Fox Valley Mall," I said.

"But what about the special door busters?" he complained.

"We don't need anything to bust our door down," I answered. "It'll be fine."

At a more sane time of day, we had no problem parking. The mall was busy but accessible. The trouble was, we didn't really need anything. It's all very well hunting for a bargain, but to my mind it's not a true bargain unless you actually want the thing in the first place.

Grumpy was dismayed I didn't want a Kitchen Aid food mixer at a great price.

"But it'll be great for those times you want to bake," he said.

"What? Twice a year?" I answered.

"How about this great sewing machine? It's a steal."

"I don't need it for anything though," I said.

"I might need you to do something for me with it though," he replied.

He obviously didn't know me in my when I took needlework class at school and broke the needle constantly because the thread was too tight. I doubt he'd want a floral sleeveless blouse that looks like a box either.

Finally I relented. At 12.20 p.m. we were in line with the following unnecessary items that you would never put on a list.

1. A lamp shaped like a cocktail glass complete with stirrer and decorative slice of star fruit on the slide.

2. A box of storage boxes.

3. A plastic jar that counts your coins as you save them.

4. A pair of binoculars.

At 12.57 p.m. Grumpy started hyperventilating when he realised we didn't have any of the 8,000 coupons which had arrived with yesterday's newspapers. At 12.58 we reached the cashier to find a spare coupon at the til which much to Grumpy's relief, saved us about 90 cents. By 1 p.m. we were done.

As he struggled to take all our booty to the car, I could see a sense of triumph on Grumpy's face. I was just sorry I couldn't drink the contents of my cocktail lamp....

Family Fun

Thanksgiving is a time for families. You see it on TV all the time. Everyone sits down at the table together. Little old grannies, cheeky nephews, overworked moms and dads waving carving knives around like they serve up meals every day. The table is groaning with food. Sometimes the turkey flies out of the window and the neighbour has to save the day.
This Thanksgiving we were fortunate enough to yet again be taken in by a real American family. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Drive invited us to her table right alongside her sit com family. After she said grace her two daughters laughed and squabbled at the table, just like our kids. The only difference is when someone else's kids argue it's fun. When your own do it it's a war zone. Rebecca's sister in law pulled out some purple knitting which turned out to be a cardigan she's making for her mother. She gave her a fitting with the knitting needles attached.
"Looks like you've still got the security tag in there," someone quipped.
They spent at least half an hour talking about which route to take home, old family recipes and memories of 1960s TV programmes that'd we'd never heard of.
Daughter No. 1 told the story of a friend of hers who went bowling after Thanksgiving one year.
"We told her that if you get three strikes in a row, it's called a turkey," she laughed. "We said if she got one it meant she could claim an actual turkey from the desk. She believed us, but luckily she didn't get one!"
We discussed the weight of the turkey, but no mention was made of the weight we'd all put on if we ever made it to the end of the meal.
After dinner the men flopped in front of the TV to watch football which must have been hard to hear at times over the laughter.
At one point in the proceedings, I noticed a family walking past look through the window. It's something I often do myself on walks. I get quite teary sometimes if I see a open garage filled with years of junk. How I used to hate our junk filled garage with all it's old memories we couldn't bring ourselves to throw away. Now ours is empty I hate it more.
Anyhow, today I confess to feeling a little smug as I looked back at them because for once I was on the inside.

To Be A Pilgrim: The First Thanksgiving

The time is 4.21 p.m. Sorry, scrap that. I mean the date is 1621. Governor Grumpy Bradford is gathering people in the town square.

Governor Grumpy: Fellow pilgrims. We have much to celebrate.

Jett: That's what you think. You're a governor. You don't have to walk around with a silly witch's

hat on.

GG: Come, come now. We must all be thankful. Stop moaning. Anyone would think you were

English!

Hilary: You try washing and ironing these white collars every day. I won't be thankful until

they invent the laundromat!

GG: We've just survived a terrible winter. Half our numbers have died. We should show our
gratitude to the Indians who helped us by holding a big feast.

Jett: Don't you think about anything other than your stomach?

Hilary: Oh come on, it'll be fun. I'll do an evite. Just as soon as they invent the computer.

GG: I decree a national day of feasting! We'll sit down and share food with our Indian brothers.

Hilary: Oh goody, you can't beat a nice chicken korma!

Serendipity: (Who is sitting on the floor in the lotus position) Did you say karma? Technically I

don't think chickens bring karma to anything. And anyhow, I'm vegetarian.

Hilary: Korma, not karma Dipsy! I haven't got time for this. I have to get to Jewel to buy

food for the feast. Now, what shall we have?

Hyacinth: Let's get a can of green beans, a can of mushroom soup and mix them together. We'll

call them a casserole.

Duchess: Sorry, but that sounds gross. What you really need is to sprinkle it with a can of dried

fried onions. Now that'll be a gourmet dish they'll enjoy for generations to come.

Hilary: Come on, we haven't got time to waste. You know how busy the stores get on a holiday.

Jett: Stores? You mean that little log cabin in the woods where we buy skins and dried moose?

Hardly ever see anyone in there.

Duchess: It's not moose, it's caribou. Speaking of which, anyone up for a coffee?

Reasons To Be Thankful Thanksgiving Is Here

1. Only one more day of TV commercials advertising sales which start in the middle of the night.
2. No more excuses to overeat until Christmas.
3. No more arguments with Grumpy about why he's refusing to wear a pilgrim's hat.
4. You can eat dessert with your main course.
5. For the next four weeks the stores will be too busy to take your money.

Keeping the Faiths

Before we moved to the US, I thought Thanksgiving was some sort of religious holiday. Turns out, that's not the case. Any family, no matter what their beliefs, can sit round the table arguing over who gets which piece of the turkey.

This evening we went along to the 19th Annual local Interfaith Service, which this year was held at St Procopius Abbey in nearby Lisle.

I admit I'd never heard of St Procopius before. Turns out his abbey was built in the early 70s, and is best described as a modern version of a monastery. The building was entirely brick, unusual for this area, with angular lines that gave it a very geometric feel.

The service comprised of a number of faiths demonstrating prayers and hymns. My favourite were the Baha'is, but only because they worn cool black gowns with super sparkly scarves around their necks.

There were Gregorian chants from the monks, recitations from the Qur'aan and even a song from the Zoroastrains. We Jews were represented by neighbouring synagogue Etz Chaim who sang a couple of songs I'd never heard before.

My own religion is so different in the US it's almost unrecognisable to me at times. Many of the traditional melodies have been replaced with modern American versions that wouldn't be out of place as a theme to a made for TV movie.

But looking at such a diverse range of religions at one event, they seem almost interchangeable. Most religions say their prayers in a sing-songy way. Many use such foreign tongues they are impossible to understand. But all of them manage to create an air of calm that exudes a meditative air that anyone attending a place of worship would enjoy.

Of course this being Thanksgiving, there was some good old American stuff thrown in too. Personally I hadn't heard This Land Is Your Land since I was about five years old. Grumpy has been banned from singing If I Had A Hammer in case someone was actually foolish enough to hand him one. Yet tonight we joined in, as we did with a rousing chorus of America the Beautiful at the end.

So why would we do this? We're not American, and on this most American of holidays, we can only ever really be observers. Not to be too syrupy about the whole thing, the reality is we really are truly thankful to be here. For that reason alone, Thanksgiving is perhaps the most pertinent holiday of them all.

Ten Reasons I May Have Been Living In The U.S. For Too Long

1. I met a British couple the other evening and noticed how beautiful their accents were.
2. Although I think it's ridiculous Lite FM started playing non stop Christmas music this week, I can't stop listening to it.
3. I'm surprised when people notice I'm not American, because I think I sound the same as everyone else.
4. When my daughter phones, instead of wailing how much she misses me, she gives me recipe ideas.
5. I loved the movie Pirate Radio.
6. I refer to the film Pirate Radio as a movie.
7. I wrote the word 'shot' in a Twitter update instead of 'injection' and lied to my niece it was to save letters.
8. I've finally noticed how unattractive Ogden Avenue is.
9. I'm seriously considering dressing as a pilgrim for Thanksgiving.
10. The mail box we had fitted is getting rusty.

At Death's Door

As a newspaper reporter, it isn't so unusual to meet someone who is the victim of a crime. But it's one thing knowing you are interviewing someone for this kind of reason, quite another for them pop up unexpectedly on your TV screen.

The local news this week has been full of stories about Brian Dugan, who was finally sentenced to death after he murdered a little Naperville girl 26 years ago.

Unfortunately this wasn't Dugan's only crime. He had previously raped and murdered a 27-year-old nurse and a seven-year-old girl.

Dugan is already serving life sentences for the other crimes in jail. After the latest verdict, family members of the other victims were interviewed. One was one of my acquaintances from Naperville Rotary.

Much as the aim of the news is to bring events to life, it just isn't the same as personally knowing someone in the news.

When I first met him, I only learnt about his business. Yet today as we spoke at a Veteran's Day lunch, I discovered a shy, unassuming man who had been shouldering a terrible burden for more than 20 years. He is glad the family now has closure, but admits there are no winners because nothing will bring his sister back.

Along with gun ownership, capitol punishment is one of the very few things that bother me about American society. Not surprisingly, my friend is in complete agreement with it.

"Let me ask you a very personal question," I said. "If you were able to, would you want to watch the execution?"

He explained this may not happen for years, because Illinois doesn't tend to act on such sentences, they just keep prisoners on death row.

"Absolutely I would," he said. "But the form of execution is too easy. He'll only receive a fatal injection. It could be worse for him than that."

My friend, as I said, is very unassuming. He's not a gun toting lunatic demanding an eye for an eye.

"I'm sorry, I just don't agree with capitol punishment," I said gently. "After all. There are murders here every day. It doesn't seem to solve anything."

"But in Texas, where they do put people to death, the crime rate is lower," he reasoned.

He hasn't convinced me, but I couldn't argue with his logic. In his eyes, the man who murdered his sister and others, stole lives. Therefore he doesn't deserve to be alive himself.

Under the Bells: 11/11/11

Valiant Veterans

One bright sunny November morning, the good people of Naperville gathered together at Rotary Hill. Anyone who was anyone was there, or at least anyone who didn't need to be at work at 11 o'clock in the morning. They met because it was Veteran's Day. 11 a.m. on November 11th, when everyone remembers those who have served in the armed forces.

As is decreed, at the appointed hour everyone faced east for a moment's silence.

Veterans were given seats of honour on the steps of the Moser Tower.

Some even turned up in uniform. Personally I think this gentleman was just showing off that his still fit him!

Ninety-year-old Bill Frier recited a poem about the battlefields of Flanders.

And of course being Naperville, the whole town was entranced by a rallying speech by our beloved leader, Mayor Pradel.

Shelf Slacker

Until I get that elusive phone call from Hollywood or major magazine deal, I've decided to make better use of my time by volunteering at Loaves and Fishes, our local food pantry. I went along yesterday afternoon for my first shift. If nothing else, I figured, it would give me some useful experience which I could help me should I ever wish to become a shelf stacker in Jewel.
It seemed simple enough. Take donated food out of one box, divide it into categories, then rebox it.
The first task was to separate peanut butter from jelly. How American! Did you know there must be least 40 brands of peanut butter alone in this country?
This is ok. I feel like I'm at work in a factory. Not that glamorous, but at least it's work, or would be if I were being paid. Let me see. This jar goes over here. Now the jelly. Grape. Lots of grape. Some strawberry and blueberry. I wonder which one goes best with the peanut butter? I can hear my stomach rumbling. Wonder if moving three jars has burnt off enough calories to equal a spoon of peanut butter? Probably not. Another box of jars? Put them down there please. Now where was I? Another box, already, hang on. Don't panic. This goes here, that goes there. I feel like I'm playing shops as a kid when I used to pretend my dad's socks were kippers in a fishmongers.
I'd better speed up. I'm beginning to feel like Lucy in the chocolate factory or wherever it was. Uh oh! Halt! I'm holding peanut butter and jelly in the same jar! Beads of perspiration start popping up on my headachey brow so I look like a teenager with acne. An easy thing to picture since most of my co-workers are actually teenagers. What should I do? Scrape all the jelly out and put it in an empty jar? How do they even get it in there like that? What if you want to eat them separately?
"Crackers!"
What? No more time for pb and j, we're onto crackers. By now I'm really hungry. Would anyone notice if I sloped off and had a pbj and c break? My head is swimming. There are hundreds of boxes all around me. We only have two hours? How will we get all this done?
"Holiday food!" Aaggh. Something else already. What is holiday food exactly? I couldn't see any fresh turkeys lying around. Oh, jars of gravy. Are green beans and fried onions holiday food? Apparently, even though to me holiday food is the cheap spaghetti you eat on a trip to Spain.
The cultural differences are a bigger deal than I thought. I daren't even ask where to put rogue cans of tomatoes because my British accent will echo round the warehouse like a cuckoo in the nest.
I'd started out think shelf stacking was an easy job that anyone could do. Well, shelf stackers of the world, I applaud you. Next time I'm going to try something easier, like brain surgery. Volunteer for Edward Hospital anyone?

Bowled Over

I don't usually see the need to be competitive in sport. After all, when you have the abilities I do, there really is no point. I'm not blowing my own horn here - I really am that bad. So it was with some trepidation that Grumpy and I went along to a 'fun raiser' at Brunswick Bowl last night for Naperville City Councilman Kenn Miller.
The first thing I'd like to point out is that this should no way be seen as an endorsement for the councilman. Yes, technically we paid $60 into his fund, but we got the last laugh because as non American citizens we're not entitled to vote! (Or he did, not quite sure).Anyhow, I saw it as a good networking opportunity and a chance for a fun night out.
The trouble with networking in a small town (well, it is to me anyhow) is that you tend to meet the same people all the time. In the end we ended up bowling with Jett and Serendipity. As regular readers will know, I’m always more than happy to see Jett, even if I’m not wearing full evening dress, 6lbs of make up and an updo. (Although it would certainly making bowling a more glamorous activity). But it’s one thing fluttering my eyelashes across my granite worktop, quite another having to play sport. Not to mention my yoga buddy (once only obviously) Serendipity, who could probably bowl accurately through her legs with her back to the pins.
In the end, things didn’t turn out too badly. Whereas often I’ll miss every turn completely, ending up with a score of 45, this time I even got a couple of strikes. Plus I learned a great new technique. Keep your eye on the center pin, but imagine your adversary’s face on it, glowering at you.

Food Fight

As you might imagine, visiting the Healing Field was quite a serious event. But even against the somewhat sad background, there's always room for levity.
Something I always enjoy about Naperville event is bumping into my growing band of acquaintances. There's only 146,000 people in the town after all, so at some point I'm bound to interview all of them, I'm sure!
Anyhow, there I was chatting with Ray McGury, head of Naperville Park District and Pat Merryweather, President of Naperville Rotary when another Rotarian joined us.
English readers: This may seem like no big deal to you, but in England it would be like hobnobbing with Boris Johnson and the Queen.
Cort introduced me to his wife, and said he always remembered my name because of the famous Beatles song "I'm 'ilary the Eighth I am." After politely explaining he not only had the wrong name, but the wrong group, he then got a bit snitty.
"Well I'll tell you something now for your blog," he said, only half joking. "I don't like Yorkshire Pudding!"
Unbelievable. There I was being at my most respectful surrounded by American flags, and he was attacking one of our national dishes!
"Well, let me tell you something," I said, drawing myself up to my full 5' 4". "I don't like hot dogs!"
I swear the entire field of visitors went silent. Everyone froze and in the distance I'm sure I spied a ball of tumbleweed rolling down Rotary Hill.

Healing Field: Naperville Remembers

Although the Healing Field seems such a Naperville event, they actually take place around the country. However, because it's Naperville, we were greeted with warm summer like sunshine and temperatures in the lower 70s, even though it's November. Wandering around the flags gave off a warm glow that had nothing to do with the weather. Americans are patriotic at the best of times, but never more so than when honouring their loved ones who have served their country. Everyone was so proud, so happy, so keen to talk about the experience that you couldn't help but come away feeling you'd just been given a big hug.


There were plenty of children around too. Some just playing on a field on a sunny day, but others adding their own tags for family members.

Gail didn't fight for her country at all. In fact I interviewed her only two weeks ago, when she passed on her business, the Canterbury Shoppes, to a new owner because she was dying. She actually passed away two days later aged 54. She was well loved for all her good service to Naperville, not just in the store, so a flag seemed a fitting memorial for her too.

"I expect you danced with most of the men represented here," I heard this son joke to his mom as he tied a yellow ribbon round the flag pole.

Quite a sight. Just a few of the 2009 flags.

The Moser Tower stands majestically over the flags.

Healing Fields Forever

I broke the news about the idea of a Healing Field in Naperville to Sun readers back in March. It was an ambitious project to plant 2009 American flags on Rotary Hill in time for Veteran's Day. Ambitious because the flags would not only needed to be planted, but each one sponsored. From today until Wednesday, people will be able to purchase yellow tags from the Riverwalk Eatery at $35 a time to remember loved ones who either fought in past wars or are in active service today.

On The Psychiatrist's Couch

If I weren't a semi unemployed writer with dramatic tendencies towards megalomania, I might have been a psychiatrist. I would have enjoyed sitting around listening to people talk about themselves. A bit like what I do now, except my subjects don't normally have their feet up on a couch.

So you won't be surprised to learn when I had the opportunity today to put my own feet up, I jumped at the chance. I was actually helping out a psychology student who wanted to talk to a person from a different culture about adult development and aging.

I tried not to let the fact that he arrived an hour late go against him. After all, no one was paying for his time yet. He was very apologetic and polite and I had fun talking to him for an hour about myself (see above). I then had fun listening to him tell me about himself.

He left me the list of questions he had asked. Not sure why, unless it was so I could sue him as soon as he qualifies. But it does give me the chance to answer in the way I would like to have done if I wasn't trying to behave like an aging adult. Here's a sample:

Q1: In general, what types of experiences are painful for you? For your family?

A1: Root canal treatment. Agony for me and painful for Grumpy because he has to pay.

Q2: What types of things make you feel important? How do members of your family find the feeling of importance?

A2: Strangers telling me how much they enjoy my writing, and psychology students using me for case studies. (Important or insulted, one of the two). The members of my family don't find me as important as I do. (oh, that's not what you meant, is it?)

Q3. If you fit in at home and in your community, tell me what a normal day is like for you.

A3: Coffee in Panera with the Duchess, four hours blogging, getting my nails done and defrosting dinner.

Q4: What are the most enjoyable activities in your life?

A4: See previous answer.

Q5: What types of things make you angry? How do you respond to that anger and how would someone know if you are angry?

A5: People asking me stupid questions makes me angry you blithering idiot!!WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHUT UP? GET OUT!!! (They never know, I keep it to myself quite well thank you).

Q6: What has your educational background been like? How about your work experience?

Q6: Mi eddukashionle bakgrond cud av bin bettur. I experienced work once and decided it wasn't for me.

Portrait Of An Artist As An Older Man

This is the face behind the cartoon strip Dick Tracy. It's Dick Locher, who also draws political cartoons for the Chicago Tribune. Locher's an old Naperville favourite, so much so that the latest addition to the Century Artwalk will be a 9' statue of Tracy.
Locher was in town talking to Naperville Rotary Club today. Here are some samples of what he told us:
"A good cartoonist is one who makes the editor nervous."
"My job is like being a blind javelin player in the Olympics. He doesn't win a lot but he sure is interesting to watch."
"The statue is made out of Styrofoam, then we put 600lbs of clay on it, then scrape 400lbs off. People ask me how I get it to look like Dick Tracy. I tell them I simply scrape away everything that doesn't look him!"

The Lighthouse Family

One thing I love to do is connect people, so we had fun this morning when I introduced Robin and Richard to my English friends, the Duchess and my new friend Sue from Dubai.
Although my friends are just a little older than the 'ladies' the boys usually mix with, they got on famously over coffee in Panera.
Richard, it turned out, has an interesting job. He's a lighthouse painter! He handed out his card, logo "Someone's Got To Do It," and explained in detail how he organized teams of men to paint lighthouses all over Britain.

The ladies were captivated. Sue thought Richard's job was amazing. The Duchess even wondered if he could branch out to painting water towers over here.

I often joke you can tell Americans anything and they'll believe you. Well my US friends, you're exonerated. Seems the Brits can be pretty gullible too. Gotcha!

Boys' Day Out

Today we drove up to Northern Illinois. Richard was keen to visit a small town with the same name as his family, so here is Richard Yacht by the sign.

After that, it was down to the Volo Car Museum.

Here's Robin and the Batmobile!

Which way to Bedrock?

Arriving a bit late for Halloween, Herman Munster

Scooby, Scooby Doo, where are you?

Robin decides against a career as a racing driver

Herbie Rides Again!

Drive, rabbit, drive

Grumpy's favourite - a '57 Chevy, probably because they're the same age.

The boys get a little too friendly with The Simpsons.

On their way back from a busy Halloween night - Ghostbusters!

Here's one the boys could have used last night - Knight Rider!

General Lee from The Dukes of Hazzard, finding a little hazard of it own

Big yellow taxi

Two Knights Later

It was lucky we had King Robin and Sir Richard on hand to cope with dangerous trick or treaters last night, especially as one of them was a fiercesome dragon!