Some Chicago Boyz know each other from student days at the University of Chicago. Others are Chicago boys in spirit. The blog name is also intended as a good-humored gesture of admiration for distinguished Chicago School economists and fellow travelers.
I thought that, since I described my daughter as beautiful, I should provide some evidence.
Here she is with her mother.
That’s Arizona behind them.
Lest I slight my other daughter, here is Claire with the Rosetta stone a few years ago.
I have one more but no recent photo. She’s the FBI agent and doesn’t like photos. She has been trying to recruit Claire, who speaks Arabic, for years.
It would seem that once there is a TV reality show about something than you can assume that it’s gone mainstream enough that the denizens of the mainstream media world are interested. So it seems to have happened with ‘prepping’ that is, being prepared for the zombie apocalypse with a garage or a bunker full of shelf-stable and dried foods, a water purification system and a couple of cases of munitions. Meh … a lot of people went nutso over this just before New Years’ Day 2000, and there always has been a lunatic fringe … but then ensuring that you have a plentiful supply of food, drink and supplies on hand used to be pretty mainstream, actually. It was called ‘getting ready for winter’ in the 19th century, especially if you lived on a homestead half a day’s journey from the nearest general store. It certainly has been a requirement for LDS church members, as I discovered when I lived in Utah. It seemed pretty sensible for me, actually having an emergency stash of food.
About ninety minutes ago. Two guys are talking. I walk up and join them.
First Guy: …all politicians are liars. All of them. Mitt Romney is the worst liar. Everything he says is a lie.
Me: You voted for Obama, didn’t you?
First Guy: Yes, I did.
Me: He’s the biggest liar of them all.
First Guy: No he isn’t. George W. Bush is.
Me: Excuse me, I need to get to my parking meter before it expires…
Popular joke in the halls
Q: What do you call Call of Duty in Pakistan?
A: Sims.
I think this generation hasn’t quite internalized multi-culti.
A long time ago I decided to make an effort to look my best. Conventional wisdom said guys get better haircuts at female hair shops because the standards are higher. (Actually the prices are higher because getting your man-hair cut at a chick place is like taking your Camry to the Rolls Royce dealer for an oil change. Also some female barbers hairdressers give high-maintenance haircuts that look good when you are all teased and pouffed up as you leave the shop but require gels and blow-dryers to maintain the look. But I digress.) Anyway I started getting my haircuts at places that called themselves salons.