The famed psychologist Stanley Milgram wrote an essay in 1972 on the phenomenon of the ‘familiar stranger’–someone whom you never speak with but whom you see frequently enough to recognize. The Familiar Stranger Project is a joint research effort by UC Berkeley and IBM to develop emergent technologies that link familiar strangers with one another. There’s an excellent paper online that describes their work.
At roughly 1:05 AM (an hour ago) in the Grand station of Chicago’s Redline Train, I witnessed an entirely unprovoked assault and battery: an African-American man in his late-30s/early-40s dressed head to toe in black assaulted an older Latino man with graying hair.
I’ve never before witnessed a crime so violent.
The assailant (the African-American) speaks some form of Spanish and bad vernacular English. He was drunk. Prior to the attack, he was showing off his prison tattoos to the five of us who were waiting in the Grand station for the southbound train.
He was struggling to keep his balance–at one point, he took two steps backward and as he neared the edge, three of us waiting in line warned him to step away from the tracks so as not to fall over.
He rocked and swayed, cursing in Spanish and English at us, browbeating everyone within sight, with the exception of the two men pictured in the photograph below. [Coming soon]. Although I may have been initlally in his line of fire, he rapidly switched from cursing me in Spanish to telling me that he liked my glasses. He offered me a cockeyed grin, then stepped forward to pound my fist. Of course, I reluctantly cooperated, returning his gesture with a half-smile. I reasoned that the gesture alone would create enough rapport for him to leave me alone. If, at the time, I had known what kind of violence he was capable of, I would have instead politely declined.
I was carrying a wallet, a nice phone and an Olympus digital camera on me at the time. Had I taken the camera or the phone out prior to or during the assault, I would have no doubt been attacked myself.
I will finish writing this tomorrow evening. I’ve filed two police reports. I’m finishing the second as I write this.
Macy’s Annual Glamorama Fashion Show was held this evening at the Chicago Theater. Attendees were dressed to the nines. Tickets were priced at $100+. Macy’s inherits the annual fashion show tradition from Marshall Field’s, which had previously taken responsibility for organizing and financing the festivities. Last year at this same event, Beyonce Knowles performed for a sold-out audience. I was told by a Macy’s security guard that the Glamorama Fashion Show represents the single largest Chicago promotional event in the department store’s annual calendar.
I met a terrific young photographer named Sarah [pseudonym -ed.] outside the event. She used to work in the Home Department of Marshall Field’s, but she was then laid off from the staff [1] when Macy’s took over. She was kind enough to show me the set of photos she had taken of the after-party decorations that celebrants would see on the seventh-floor of the Macy’s building after the close of the concert.
[1] The only employment option Sarah was given at Macy’s was a position that would have entailed little to no opportunities for advancement and would have paid significantly less than what she was then making at Marshall’s before the turnover. Irregardless, she indicated that she would have stayed on if she were offered the same job at the same wage. She was transitioned out by Macy’s management.
David, August 24th 2007, 10:51 pm
Filed under: Announcements, Mobile posting, Sidewalk life /
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Geotagged GMap of Chicago
Warning: Only those statements enclosed in quote marks represent exact quotations. Unless it’s in quote marks, I’m paraphrasing. However, all statements attributed to an individual below approximate Karen’s original statements, and insofar as I recollect, match the general spirit of the conversation.
I met Karen X on a crowded Metra train hurtling toward the Michigan/Randolph stop. She was sitting beside her brother, whom I’ll call Robert.
DC: Are you headed to work?
KX: Yes, sure am.
DC: Where do you work?
KX: I work for the greatest country in the world, and the greatest to have ever existed.
Disarmed, I couldn’t suppress a grin. This woman Karen exuded pride and confidence.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked. “Do you work for the US government?”
KX: I work for the Railroad Retirement Board. It’s the only federal agency in the country that’s headquartered outside of Washington, DC. Yes, I work for that idiot from Crawford, TX.
DC: Do you mean George Bush? Are you an anti-war demonstrator?
KX: I’ve been on demonstrations against the war for years now, all over Chicago.
DC: And you’re pretty comfortable sharing your feelings on George Bush?
KX: Someone needs to speak out.
Her voice boomed through the car. Perhaps Karen was exhibiting too much confidence. Others sitting nearby were beginning to stare. I spoke in an even lower tone of voice, hoping that Karen would catch on. Karen seemed oblivious.
DC: Is the Railroad Retirement Board separate from Social Security?
KX: Yes, the Retirement Board predates the Social Security Administration. But we’re very much like the Social Security that you’ll draw from when you’re the right age.
DC: I doubt I’ll have much returned to me by Social Security. I will receive far less, at least, than what I will be putting in.
KX: That’s because my generation has aborted and contracepted your inheritence away. Morals are a lot looser these days than they used to be.
DC: What do you mean?
KX: “There used to be 10 workers paying for every senior citizen retiree. Now it’s the exact opposite: there’s fewer workers than retirees.” That’s why your generation is in trouble.
By now, Karen’s voice had reached a decibal level usually reserved for rock concerts, so I thought it best to talk to her brother about the White Sox. Her brother is a lifelong White Sox fan, but it was impossible to communicate with him, for as I learned, he’s afflicted with autism.
Karen was also traveling with another friend whom we’ll call Chris. Chris worked for sixteen years at a plant based in Chicago. After sixteen years of service, Chris was earning roughly $14/hr. Then his company outsourced his department to the third-world. Chris’ income was cut by more than half after the reorganization, since the best job that Chris could find pays $6.75 with no benefits.
Karen stepped in to offer her own perspective: “If you were a business owner, would you pay $14/hr plus benefits to an American, or would you hire an illegal foreigner who will work twenty hours a day—only eight on the book—and is willing to accept whatever the employer wishes to pay?”
I parted ways with Karen, Robert and Chris shortly afterward. Karen moved Robert by the hand, steering him in the direction he needed to go. Chris plodded toward another day on the job. Karen, for her part, left with a broad smile.
[Picture of Karen and Robert embracing -- Coming soon]
I’ve been using Going.com to find new events in the Chicagoland area. It’s more flexible and comprehensive than Flavorpill and compared to Metromix or Redeye, and Going.com is much easier to use.
Try it out, see if you like it.
I met a student named Danielle Powell on the train back to Hyde Park tonight. I was sitting alone when she came onto the train and took the seat immediately to my right. Danielle was carrying one of those massive Tort Law tomes that you find on dusty bookshelves and she looked fairly young. I thought it safe to categorize her as a law student or a young lawyer fresh out of law school. I asked her about her class year (she’s a first-year Loyola Law student), and the conversation went from there.
As it turns out, Danielle had just finished her first day (and her first class) of law school (Loyola starts on 20 August and operates on the semester system). Danielle just moved to Chicago from Tallahassee, Florida where she attended Florida State University and graduated in three years with a degree in creative writing and minors in business and communication. She graduated at the top of her class at FSU, and she hopes to do the same at Loyola, since starting salaries at big law firms are closely tied to law school GPA.
Final note: I hate to point out the obvious, but as you’ll see from the picture (coming shortly), Danielle is very, very, VERY tall for a lady. She says she measures 5′ 9 1/2”, so with heels she’s even a slight bit taller than I. I’m afraid that when I asked her about her height, I may have triggered defense mechanisms, since after that point the frequency of references to the boyfriend increased. This was the first time in a long time I’ve felt uncomfortable continuing a conversation with someone I’ve just met, but I simply shared my own relationship status with her and I feel that solved the problem.
Ravin Shah stands on the left, along with a group of his friends–many of whom are featured in the Funkadesi footage below. He used to work as an Accenture consultant, but now he’s a Project Manager with an IT Division that works for Lehman Brothers. He started a blog of his own (Ravin Online).