Złotych No Mo’

Posted on April 28, 2015 by admin

The awakening spring at Poplar Creek Forest Preserve on Sunday.

Poland had one of the smallest currencies of any country I’ve been to, since we got there a few months ahead of the redenomination of 1995. Soon notes like this Communist-era 1,000 złotych would be obsolete.
They were already small change. If I remember right, the exchange rate was about 20,000 złotych to the US dollar, making this note worth about a nickel. No coins were in circulation in late 1994 in Poland, only notes; and somewhere in my envelope of worthless foreign money, I have a 50-złotych note: all of 0.25 cents at the time.

I was glad to see Copernicus on the note, even if he’s a little horse-faced in the portrait, which is clearly based on this painting, dated 1580, some decades after his death. Maybe he looked like that.

Fittingly, a Copernican solar system on the other side. As I said, the note has long been superseded by new currency at 10,000 to 1. No euros for Poland yet, though. Understandably, they’re a mite skittish about the common currency just now.

An Old Ringgit

Posted on April 27, 2015 by admin

Warmth + Rain =
At least here in temperate North America. Flowers are emerging, too, as well as bush buds. The trees are still more cautious about the whole notion of spring, but they’re coming around.

Tucked away in my envelope of nearly worthless — sometimes flat-out worthless — paper money is a RM1 I picked up either in 1992 or ’94. The formal name is a ringgit, though informally it’s a Malaysian dollar.

By the early 1990s, the note was on its way out, replaced by a dollar coin, an example of which I don’t have. These days, RM1 is worth about US 28 cents; I remember it trading for about 40 cents. I’d do pricing in my head in dollars, even though my pay was in yen, and 40 cents to the ringgit made it easy: half minus 10 percent (Singapore dollars were half plus 10 percent in those days).

The portrait on the note is Tuanku Abdul Rahman ibni Almarhum Tuanku Muhammad (died 1960), the first Yang di-Pertuan Agong of Malaya. That is, the supreme head of state, elected by the country’s other sultans, in office before the country was reorganized as Malaysia. I don’t think there’s any monarchical position anywhere else quite like it.
That’s the National Monument in Kuala Lumpur, which memorializes the Malaysian dead of the Japanese occupation and the Malayan Emergency.

Back at Mallard Lake

Posted on March 23, 2015 by admin

Last week was distinctly cool, in the winter direction of the seasonal seesaw of March. By Saturday, things were tolerable warm, but then Sunday was cold — and today, we received a few inches of snow. It won’t last, but for a while it looks like January again.

Before all that, on Saturday, we took a walk on some of the trails at Mallard Lake, a 942-acre unit of the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County. This wasn’t our first visit. Except when it’s covered by short-lived snow, the landscape is still browns and grays against sky blue, unless it’s cloudy.

Mallard Lake, March 21, 2015 Along with deadwood, no doubt providing nutrients for future trees, or at least the grass.

Only a handful of fishermen were around.

Hard to believe it’ll be lush green in a couple of months.

We saw a few bugs, including a sluggish bee, a small beetle, and maybe a gnat. Insect pioneers of the spring of ’15, coming out for their what — 400 millionth season as creatures that crawl the Earth? They’re not worried about climate change, assuming worry is an insect concept. They’ve seen it all before.

Rachmaninoff & Tchaikovsky on a March Evening

Posted on March 9, 2015 by admin

Here’s an argument that not everything of historic or archaeological significance should stay in its place of origin: “ISIS destroys ancient site of Khorsabad in northeastern Iraq.” Had the University of Chicago left everything in place, some of the artifacts you can see at the Oriental Museum would be rubble about now, thanks to barbarians.

Yuriko and I made it to far suburban Elgin on Saturday for the Elgin Symphony Orchestra, which offers high-quality performances. The ESO, besides being good at what they do, has a number of other advantages for people who have the temerity to live in the suburbs. It isn’t that far to drive; it’s easy to park there; and tickets don’t cost as much, say, as the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. All reasons the ESO sells most of its seats.

On tap this time: Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, and “The Tempest” and “Romeo and Juliet” by Tchaikovsky. A Russian-born American, Natasha Paremski, was the guest pianist, displaying an astonishing amount of skill and energy at it. Unfortunately, we were sitting on the right side of theater, so it was hard to see her (and the conductor) during the performance, because of the bulk of the piano. I have a hard time warming up to Rachmaninoff — I can’t really say I try that much, though — but her rendition kept my attention.

A casual search doesn’t show Paremski playing any Rachmaninoff, but this is her having a go at Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1, displaying a similar intensity at the keyboard.

Speaking of Tchaikovsky (sort of), this early TV clip also has a lot of (maniacal) energy to it. Such was Spike Jones. Stay to the end for an appearance by Jim Backus and an impersonation of a certain well-known figure on the world stage at the time.

The Oak Park Love Locks

Posted on February 3, 2015 by admin

Lilly sometimes studies at the other desk in my office. This evening the object of her studies was various bones, for her anatomy class (I’m pretty sure that subject wasn’t offered at my bronze-age high school). I suggested that she can learn bones listening to “Dry Bones.” She’s used to this kind of suggestion.

On Friday, I was briefly in Oak Park. But long enough to take a look at the Oak Park Love Locks.

They are at the Metra and El line underpass on Oak Park Ave. They’re a little thin on this side of the underpass (the south side), but thicker on the north side, where there was also a lot less light.

A helpful sign posted by the Oak Park Area Arts Council says, in part: “On a bridge over the river Seine in Paris, lovers write their names and dates on padlocks, attach them to the rails, and throw the padlock key into the river to symbolize their commitment. The locks form a colorful, metallic tapestry that testifies to the power of undying love.

“As part of The Ernest Hemingway Foundation of Oak Park’s Hemingway Birthday Celebration, we are bringing this part of Paris to Oak Park and inviting the community to create its own statement of romance.”

Something about this cries out to be mocked. According to some sources, Parisians aren’t particularly fond of this practice, which isn’t very old either — certainly nothing Hemingway had anything to do with. And while bridges on the Seine might inspire romance, a dimly lit concrete-and-steel underpass in suburban Chicago doesn’t have any of that vibe. Also — just to note — the thing is sponsored by a major padlock maker. Bet they have romance in their corporate heart.

If the Arts Council really wants to bring some of Hemingway’s Paris to the 21st century Midwest, I have a few suggestions: cafes and zinc bars with subsidized drinks, so they’re cheap like Paris in the ’20s; a bookstore that looks exactly like Shakespeare and Company; and a statue of the gentlemen who invented pharmacy.

Main Street, St. Charles

Posted on October 6, 2014 by admin

St. Charles, Illinois, is on the Fox River southwest of where I live, about a 30 minute drive, partly on the two-lane roads near the river. Though quite a ways from Chicago, I suppose it counts as an outer mid-sized suburb, with about 33,000 inhabitants.

It’s got an interesting municipal building on Main Street, overlooking the Fox. Not too many Art Moderne municipal buildings around, at least in metro Chicago.

Vintage 1940, and it sure looks like it. Designed by R. Harold Zook, early 20th century architect noted for his work in the area, and for a fun name, at least by me. Get a little closer, and you’ll find Dellora standing in from of the edifice.

And her dog Toto? Her plaque doesn’t say. It does tell us that this is a representation of Dellora Angell Norris (1902-1979): “Her vision and generosity shaped our community for generations to come.” Not to quibble, but shouldn’t that be will shape? Ah, well. It’s in bronze, no editing now. Dedicated June 8, 2006. The sculptor is Ray Kobald.

Mr. Kobald is local to St. Charles. Think globally, sculpt locally.

On the west side of the Main Street bridge in St. Charles is the Hotel Baker.

A closer view.

Local millionaire Edward J. Baker, one of the heirs to John “Bet-a-Million” Gates barbed wire and oil fortune, developed the property in 1927 (Dellora Norris was another heir). Over the years it was a hotel, then a retirement home, now a hotel again. Actually, he was Col. Baker — a Kentucky colonel, somehow or other. More about him here.

I ducked inside for a moment, fond as I am of spiffy hotel lobbies. Over the entrance, facing inward, is this nice piece of work.

The Baker Peacock, you could call it.

The Bluff Spring Fen

Posted on August 28, 2014 by admin

Back again on September 2. Labor Day weekend is no time to do work, if you can avoid it.

When in doubt, go to a dictionary. If one isn’t enough, go to two or more. First, the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, New College Edition, print version. Fen: “Low, flat, swampy land; a bog; marsh.” Next, Merriam-Webster, online version. Fen: “Low land that is covered wholly or partly with water unless artificially drained and that usually has peaty alkaline soil and characteristic flora (as of sedges and reeds).”

I found myself wondering about the exact definition of a fen when walking through a fen the other day. The Bluff Spring Fen. It was clearly a low wetland, and I’ll say this about a fen in August, especially in a rainy year — there’s a lot of characteristic flora.

The only visible work of man is the footpath through the fen, which isn’t very visible, except in those few spots where wooden planks cross extra-low, extra-damp terrain.

The fen is next to the Bluff City Cemetery, described yesterday. Toward the bottom of the bluff, in fact, and accessible through the cemetery grounds. The web site of Friends of the Bluff Spring Fen gives a more complicated definition of this particular fen: “Bluff Spring Fen is a 100-acre Illinois Nature Preserve in Elgin, Illinois, named for its rich, calcareous fens. These rare wetlands are fed by springs coming up through the ground bringing mineral-rich water. This alkaline water comes out of the ground at about 50 degrees, keeping the springs and streams flowing year round, and supporting animals and specialized plants that are adapted to these conditions.

“The Fen is not just the wetlands. It is a myriad of habitats including prairies, savannas, wetlands, and woodlands. Each one of these groups can be broken down further into subcategories… Rare and endangered species can be found here, such as the Small White Lady’s Slipper Orchids, the Baltimore Checkerspot Butterflies, and the Elfin Skimmer Dragonflies. To date, over 450 plant species, 57 butterfly species, more than 20 dragonfly species, and almost 100 bird species, including 33 nesting, have been recorded at the Fen.”

I don’t know if I saw any Elfin Skimmer Dragonflies, but I did see a lot of dragonflies. Squadrons of dragonflies. All beating their wings, causing typhoons in the South China Sea. Or was that butterflies? Saw a fair number of them, too. But not as many mosquitoes as I expected, fortunately. Always a good thing when you’re out in the middle of a fen.

The Bluff City Cemetery, Elgin

Posted on August 27, 2014 by admin

At Costco the other day, I was waiting in line at the keep-’em-in-the-store food service window, which is across from the row of check-out stands. The line was about eight people deep, and had started to snake toward the check-out stands, partially blocking the flow of people and shopping carts as they headed for the exit.

“Please move the line against the wall,” a Costco employee told everyone in line. It was a reasonable request, and we all moved away from the check-out row. A few seconds later, a man wheeled his cart past us in the line, and said, “Thanks. There’s no more Thermopylae.”

Did he actually say that? I wondered. I decided he had. I didn’t particularly feel like we were holding off a host of Persians, but I chuckled anyway. That’s someone who’s read his Herodotus. Or more likely, watched 300.

I spent some time one warm day recently at the Bluff City Cemetery in Elgin, Illinois, which has been a municipal burying ground since 1889. It’s a large place, 108 acres, and unusually uneven for Illinois terrain. My guess is that as a rolling bluff, the site wasn’t good for much else, so it became the cemetery.

A lot of mature trees, a lot of stones. Not a lot of funerary art, but I did see some examples, such as this figure, atop a monument to people named Hanson, and holding what looks like a chain attached to an anchor. I’ve read that anchors were early Christian symbols of hope, and are sometimes found on funerary art, though I can’t say I’ve ever seen one before.

The cemetery also sports a few burial vaults built into the hillside.

There are some small mausoleums as well. I liked the Snow mausoleum, with its ivy.

The Snows are under a large oak tree, and the entire time I was there it spat acorns at the ground near me.

A National Champion Red Ash

Posted on August 26, 2014 by admin

Not long ago I was tramping around a small section of Spring Valley that I’d never visited, and I found a plaque I’d never seen. That’s a minor thrill. Guess I’m peculiar that way about plaques. It says:

NATIONAL CHAMPION

RED ASH

Planted here April 29, 2001

The 450-year-old parent tree is in Dowiagiac [sic], MI

Schaumburg Park District

Alas, the park district misspelled “Dowagiac,” which is a town in southwest Michigan, in bronze. Further investigation reveals that this particular tree has descendants elsewhere, including on the grounds of the Pentagon. Sen. Carl Levin spoke at the planting of a red ash there on September 10, 2002, as a memorial. Excerpts from his speech:

“The tree we plant this morning, like the other eight planted over the weekend, are actual parts of the largest – and probably oldest – red ash tree in America. That champion tree is located in Dowagiac, Michigan.

“Buds from that tree were taken and propagated by the Milarch Family Nursery in Copemish, Michigan, which seven years ago launched an inspired initiative called the Champion Tree Project. The purpose of the project is to take buds from America’s “champion” or historically significant trees and propagate them in “living libraries” throughout the country.

“ ‘Champion’ trees are the largest of their species. There are 826 species of trees in this country; Michigan has 49 champions.

“The champion red ash that these trees are part of is 95 feet tall. The trunk is over 21 feet around. It weighs somewhere between 160 and 200 tons. Most impressively, the tree is estimated to be about 450 years old.”

Here’s the Spring Valley red ash. It’s got a ways to go to be so tall and so heavy, but maybe it will as the centuries pass.

Apparently, the Champion Tree effort is still going on, though known as the Archangel Ancient Tree Archive.

Meanwhile, far from all red ash trees, large and small, I was happy to read the following from NASA yesterday: “The Pluto-bound New Horizons spacecraft has traversed the orbit of Neptune. This is its last major crossing en route to becoming the first probe to make a close encounter with distant Pluto on July 14, 2015. The sophisticated piano-sized spacecraft, which launched in January 2006, reached Neptune’s orbit — nearly 2.75 billion miles from Earth — in a record eight years and eight months. New Horizons’ milestone matches precisely the 25th anniversary of the historic encounter of NASA’s Voyager 2 spacecraft with Neptune on Aug. 25, 1989.”

Jupiter and especially Saturn are show-offs, but Uranus and especially Neptune have a quiet majesty. I remember well seeing the pictures of Neptune’s blue orb in the pre-Internet newspapers and magazines of 1989. These days, of course, you can find images of Neptune easily.

RIP, Wayne Grothe

Posted on August 25, 2014 by admin

Dark clouds most of the day promising rain, but not delivering, at least not as of about 6 p.m. Cool air did blow through, however, ending a short series of humid days. It felt like the tropics out there for a while.

All too often, I see spontaneous memorials beside the road. Their frequency is sometimes haunting, such as the white crosses every few miles along some highway stretches in the Dakotas. A few days ago, I stopped to take a closer look at a memorial that’s at an intersection I often pass through. In fact, I would have passed through the day of the fatal accident – July 28 – but the road was closed.

Next to the road, another sign.

All I know about the accident is what I’ve read: “A motorcyclist killed in a crash with another vehicle in Schaumburg Monday afternoon has been identified by Schaumburg police,” said the Daily Herald the next day.

“Wayne Grothe, 23, of Hoffman Estates was riding a motorcycle when it collided with a four-door Taurus driven by a 77-year-old Schaumburg woman just before 1 p.m. near the intersection of Roselle Road and Hartford Drive… The female driver was taken to Alexian Brothers Medical Center in Elk Grove with minor injuries.

“Roselle Road between Weathersfield Way and Wise Road was closed for several hours while police investigated.

“No charges have been filed in the crash and the investigation continues.”

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Suburban Chicago