Fitbit


Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

My wife bought me a Fitbit for my birthday. I’m not even sure what to call it other than Fitbit. This device measures all the steps that I take throughout the day. So whether I’m running or walking, it’s counting my steps and converting them to distance traveled in miles. Please don’t ask me to explain how Fitbit works because I have no idea. But I like the idea of having another computer gadget!

I believe my wife bought me this Fitbit in order to encourage me to stay fit. Well, I don’t exactly need much inspiration to run. Running is my favorite form of exercise because it’s so simple. All I must do is put on my running clothes, step out the door, and run. I stopped stretching long ago because it complicated the simplicity of running.

I love running and I adjust my daily schedule to accommodate my running. However, this Fitbit thingamajig has reminded me that I have a blog. And that I used to blog regularly. I set up Fitbit to post my results on Twitter and WordPress, which in turn posts to Facebook. So, I was reminded about my blog.

Fitbit has inspired me to start blogging again. The running not so much, since I enjoy running no matter what, all year round. For the last two years, I have told myself that I will blog again, but I always find excuses for deferring my sitting down at the computer and blogging. This time I’m determined!

Let’s see how long I continue blogging!

DDR

Irma Serrano


Irma Serrano at the People’s Theater, Back of the Yards, Chicago, Illinois

I never understood why my mother went to Mexico when Irma Serrano came to Back of the Yards to perform at the People’s Theater. She absolutely loved Irma Serrano. My mother had all her records. My mother saw all her movies. Yet, my mother went to Mexico the summer of 1970 when Irma Serrano came to People’s Theater.

But my mother had a plan! While she was away in Mexico, I would go for my mother to see Irma Serrano in concert! I was only fourteen at the time, so I was a little nervous when my mother explained her plan to me. I would see Irma Serrano in concert and then tell my mother all about the concert when she returned from Mexico. My mother thought her idea was absolutely brilliant. I, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. Because of my mother, I, too, loved Irma Serrano as a singer and an actress. I just couldn’t let my friends know this dirty little secret about me. What if my friends saw me going to the People’s Theater when I went to see Irma Serrano? What would I tell them? What if they wanted to tag along? That was my dilemma of the summer of 1970.

My mother arranged everything. She bought another camera just for the concert because she always took her camera to take pictures in Mexico. I was to take pictures of Irma performing on stage. I was to take pictures of every outfit she wore. She changed a few times during her performance, so I made sure I took pictures of every outfit. I must admit that this was fun, especially since Irma seemed to welcome the additional attention of an adolescent male admirer. My mother also wrote a letter to Irma that I was supposed to hand deliver to Irma Serrano personally. Those were my mother’s orders! My mother wanted me to go backstage after the performance to talk to Irma and take more pictures of her.

Irma Serrano in the dressing room.

“But how am I supposed to go backstage?” I asked my mother. “Just tell them that you’re delivering a letter to Irma Serrano from Carmen Rodriguez! They’ll let you in then!” I was always painfully shy, but now I was truly afraid to follow through with my mother’s plan. She wanted me to meet someone who was really a successful star and really, really famous. I was scared to approach Irma after the show. But I was even more afraid of how my mother would punish me if I didn’t take pictures of Irma and deliver my mother’s letter backstage.

I must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed the concert! Of course, that was also because none of my friends saw me going to the People’s Theater that afternoon. Luckily, the concert was on a Sunday afternoon when most of my friends spent the day visiting relatives. I recognized every song Irma sang because my mother always played them at home on her 8-track player. The only time I didn’t like listening to my mother’s Mexican music was on Saturday mornings. She played her music starting at sunrise. If I told her to turn it down a little, she would yell at me for being lazy and staying in bed. I would put the pillow over my head and the music didn’t sound so loud that way.

Since I was at the Irma Serrano concert of my own free will, according to my mother (under duress, if you asked me), I attempted to enjoy myself as much as possible. The audience consisted of less than about a hundred people, but they were all really into Irma. Even me! It was a really good concert! And since the audience was so small, it was also very intimate.

After the concert, I was able to get backstage by mentioning my mother’s name. I seriously doubted that would work, but I was amazed that I got to meet Irma Serrano in person. I told her that Carmen Rodriguez had written her a letter and I then handed her the letter. She smiled as she took the letter and said, “So you’re Carmen’s son? She told me about you.” I don’t know if Irma really knew my mother, but she knew how to treat fans appreciatively.  I asked Irma if I could take more pictures of her, and she consented. I was thrilled to be backstage with Irma Serrano all by myself!

So that was my closest encounter with a very famous star!

DDR

Pete’s Market


Pete’s Fresh Market, Chicago, Illinois

Because of its large Mexican community, you can shop for Mexican food at many grocery stores in the Chicagoland area. There are the real supermercados like El Güero or La Internacional in Chicago, but Pete’s Market has been expanding recently. There are several stores on the south side of Chicago, one in Evergreen Park, and one in Calumet City. They’re very successful because they sell authentic Mexican products at low prices, although I’ve heard that they are Greek-owned.

I love their tamales. I used to go the Pete’s Market on 47th and Kedzie early in the morning just to buy tamales because they tasted great and I didn’t have to make them myself. If you love authentic Mexican food, you will certainly find it here.

They also sell Mexican candy and piñatas. Most of the employees speak Spanish. Even in Evergreen Park where you wouldn’t expect to find many Spanish speakers. Actually, I was surprised to see a Mexican grocery store open in Evergreen Park. But then again, Chicago wouldn’t allow a Walmart to open within the city limits, so they opened a store across the street in Evergreen Park, a suburb that always finds new and creative ways to generate tax revenue.

Don’t be surprised if a Pete’s Market opens up near you.

DDR

City stickers


An annual Chicago rite.

We interrupt the regularly scheduled blog post to remind you to buy your Chicago city sticker. If you haven’t already, PLEASE buy your city sticker now. Or you will be ticketed, fined, and charged a late fee, AND you will still have to buy a Chicago city sticker if you live in Chicago. And don’t expect any mercy from the Chicago Police because they, too, must buy a city sticker for all their vehicles. If they don’t, they will be suspended for three days without pay. Their personal vehicles are policed by the police police. Someone must police the police!

This year, I went to the Chicago City Clerk’s office on the first possible day to purchase my city sticker. I don’t want to be driving around without a valid city sticker and risk getting a ticket. It’s cheaper to buy a city sticker right away. Anyway, I couldn’t believe how long the line was at the City Clerk at 48th and Kedzie. And most of the people waiting in line were Mexican. I waited an hour and a half to buy my city sticker! But I was among the first Chicagoans to buy their city stickers.

Unfortunately, when I put the city sticker on my windshield, it fell off and landed on my dashboard. I had seen on the news how the initial shipment of city stickers didn’t stick, but I was hoping I would be spared a second trip to the City Clerk. But alas! I had to return. And the line was even longer this time around. Luckily, Chicago extended the grace period to July 31, 2010, before they started ticketing and charging late fees.

I decided to go to City Hall the next day. The line was even longer, but I got special treatment because the replacement sticker line was very short. I was out of there in fifteen minutes! The City that Works! Sometimes Chicago lives up to its motto!

DDR

Holy Cross Church


Holy Cross Church, Back of the Yards, Chicago, Illinois

I went to Holy Cross Church today after an absence of about thirty-plus years. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew things would be different, but I didn’t quite expect to see so many familiar sights.

Well, to begin with, the church was founded by Lithuanians in Back of the Yards In the early 1900s and they finally built their church in 1913. When I attended Holy Cross in the 1960s, most of the parishioners were Lithuanian. Mexicans were just starting to move into the neighborhood in larger numbers. Mexicans had been moving to Chicago since about the time of the Mexican Revolution around 1910, but they started moving into Back of the Yards in large numbers in the 1930s.  By the time I attended Holy Cross, there were many Mexican parishioners. However, Mexicans also had their own church, Immaculate Heart of Mary, about a half-mile away from Holy Cross.

On Sundays, we usually went to mass at Holy Cross Church, but sometimes our family went to the mass at Immaculate Heart of Mary because the priests said the mass in Spanish. I enjoyed hearing mass in Spanish, so I never complained. Apparently, too many Mexican parishioners from Holy Cross started attending mass at Immaculate Heart of Mary on Sundays. Well, the priests and nuns from Holy Cross didn’t like this at all. Suddenly, we were required to attend Sunday mass at Holy Cross Church. We had to sit with our class and the nuns took attendance. If we didn’t come to Sunday mass at Holy Cross, we would have to bring a note from our parents explaining where we were. This was directed at the Mexican students only. But everyone understood the rule. There was no racism involved. If you belonged to a parish and enjoyed the benefits of their Catholic education, you must attend their mass.

Imagine my surprise when I went to Holy Cross Church today and I observed that at least 99% of the people in mass were Mexican, all except the priest who I’m guessing was African and spoke fluent Spanish. The mass was said in Spanish and the children’s choir sang in Spanish to marimba music. I really didn’t expect to see any of my former teachers or classmates, and I didn’t. Well, it turns out that Holy Cross Church and Immaculate Heart of Mary Church have merged since most of the neighborhood is now Mexican.

The new Holy Cross.

I was wondering what the priests and nuns of my school days would say if they saw the church today. Well, at least the church is still alive and well. The Polish parish of Sacred Heart no longer exists. I walked there before mass and was surprised that most of the buildings were demolished, and a Chicago public school stood in its place. Holy Cross School no longer exists, but the parish rents out the school building to the Chicago Public Schools. C’est la vie.

DDR