the tribune edits me, plus, gas station guy from barrington follow-up

Well, more than a week ago, I reported about the nice man I met who was at the gas station at 2 am in trouble, and I helped him. I comforted myself knowing he got home safe to his family in Barrington. To my shock, about 11 days later I checked my post office box and got a lovely thank you note and a check for not only the 11.75 I gave him, but an extra 20 and an invite to come fishing with him and his family.

And of course I'm lying and just made that up. I was conned, yet again, by the best actor ever, and I paid 11.75 for an oscar caliber performance. I checked the official evanston police blotter online for a week and no car like that was stolen, despite what the police desk told me that night. Ann Landers wrote "you must think I have the word 'sucker' written all over my forehead", and I guess I do.

The key to spotting the con, as I now know from lots of experience, is that they're from Barrington. They are always from Barrington. Do you have friends from Barrington? Have you loaned them money?

..........................................................................

I have never written an editorial before in my life, but my personal freedom to ride my bicycle how I want to has been threatened and that is big enough to piss me off at 3 a.m., the time which I usually reserve for being scammed by con artists.
To my surprise (delight doesn't really enter into it), the tribune printed my editorial, minus my sharpest barbs, in the paper today, the 25th of July. I have mixed feelings about it, and I am starting to sound like the crazy old curmudgeon that I am turning into. Or maybe I'm the next Mike Royko.

This is the complete version they put online under "other voices". The sentences in bold are the ones they edited out in the actual paper. Not included is the opening paragraph that I didn't write, referencing the article that spawned my wrath. That first paragraph that I didn't write ,but appears that I did, kills my actual opening sarcastic salvo. In actual fact (redundancy intended, not sure why) I didn't even read the article in the tribune, don't read the tribune at all because I hate their right wing conservative views, (though there are a few great columnists, who will go named: eric & mary). They also edited (term used loosely) me in the paper sloppily, ending one sentence where I had a comma, with a period, then starting the next paragraph with "SO.....". Besides the tightening up that they needed to do, they made it look like I am an illiterate and had the sloppy grammar, which I didn't.

As you can see, I've quoted my own indignant self from my last blog entry regarding my lovely history of being a victim in the city of chicago.


"I've had my car broken into numerous times, been burglarized, vandalized and robbed at gunpoint, so it is a great comfort to me that the Chicago police will be dedicating manpower to writing tickets to bicyclists, ("Bicyclists not free to ride as they please," Metro, July 20).

Our reward for less pollution, less traffic and a healthier lifestyle is to worry about a rolling stop on a bicycle that will result in the same fine as when a car does it. I wonder if I'd feel better about the alleged bike routes in this city if I'd ever seen a ticket written to someone parked in the bike lane or people who pass on the right, nearly killing any bike rider in the lane. It's a comfort to know that the mayor's office on bicycling is looking out for us, not by creating safe bicycle passage or enforcing bike lane violations by cars, but by dedicating the police force to chasing us down.

I hope the special force keeps an eye on the mayor. Rumor has it he rides his bicycle, and I assume, being the law-abiding citizen he is, that he will come to a complete stop at every stop sign and if he errs, he will be charged."

I have not yet heard from the mayors office, nor have I been hoisted on the shoulders of rogue bicycle riders, but the day is young.

another urban adventure

There is nothing too special about this short tale. It starts like so many other stories. A sweaty guy approaches you at a gas station at 2 a.m.. I know, right now, you are jumping in your car and locking the doors, as I should have been. But there were a couple cop cars at the station, so I listened.

The guy gives me a story about how he was in evanston, rehabbing a house, and his car is stolen, then he's beat up by five black kids, he runs, the cops are called and they are looking for his car and he took a cab to this gas station in skokie that I happened to stop at for gas at 2 a.m.. I listen to his story and ask him what he needs from me. He tells me he needs a couple bucks for the EL to downtown and 6 more for the train to Barrington. And I immediately remember that almost every single scam artist that is somehow stuck in the city with no car seems to be from Barrington.
I ask him for ID and all he has is a library card, a Chicago library card. You live in Barrington, I say, and that's a Chicago card, and he tells me of an uncle that lives in the city. Red flags are dropping left and right.
But he does seem like a normal guy, kind of a Chicago accent, but I have been fooled before.
Somehow, he seems right enough, so I offer him a ride to the Metra and money enough to get where he needs. I am wary, but he really seemed like a normal guy in a bad situation. He wants to drive through the shitty part of Evanston to look for his car. I drive slow along Emerson, and he shows me where it happened, about a mile from where I live, and points out the gang of young black men that are still hanging out on the street at 2 a.m. and I want to help him, but I don't want to be that involved. He wants me to drive around the dark streets to search, but I don't want to, and then he wants me to drop him off, so he can walk around the same area that he just got beat up in, but I suggest he just gets a train and goes home.

He grudgingly agrees and I drop him off with 11.75 and a bottle of water. He offers his address and other info, but I give him my PO Box address and tell him not to worry about it.
I have mixed feelings, as usual. Was I punked, or did I mildly help someone in trouble? Should I have done more? Did I do too much?
I got home, and curiosity got the best of me, and I called the police department.
They did, in fact, get a report of his type of car being stolen.

I'm not 100% convinced that it's all on the up and up, but maybe next week I'll get a letter from Barrington with a note of thanks. Maybe this time, my cautious, wary, but somewhat foolhardy instincts were okay.

It all got me thinking of all the times I've had crime done against me. Here is a short list.
car broken into about 10 times, all in the city of chicago, most times near where I lived. Stolen: CB radio, scanner, my first good banjo and fiddle, CDs and tapes, fishing equipment.
burglary: they caught 3 kids red-handed. I told the cops exactly how much money was taken and one of the kids had it on him, but the kid claimed it was his and they let him keep it. Or did they? I feel like I was robbed twice.
pickpocketed: clever crooks. in a grocery store, where one guy distracted me by grabbing the front of my cart and rolling it back and forth while staring at me, while another reached into my pocket and took my wallet. They work similar distraction techniques on the subway all the time, so be careful!
Armed robbery: at a mexican restaurant, a block from my house, I walked into the cafe' while the crooks had everyone in the basement at gunpoint. Their lookout called them up and I was promptly instructed to get on the floor and not look up by a guy with a really huge silver gun.

I think I can certainly empathize with other crime victims, like my guy tonight, but I guess the catch 22 is risking being a victim again.

Not this time. Here I safely sit, uneasy and sleepless at 4 a.m..