Garbage blog.

Not much time for blogging this evening. Lilly had a mind to monopolize the computer after we got back from the rare Monday outing to the Community Recreation Center, which features an indoor water park.

October has already turned memorable here in Chicago. There's baseball, of course, but only half of the city, if that, cheers for the Cubs. Supposedly they are the North Side team and the White Sox are the South Side team, but nothing is ever so simple. In as much as I care, I hope the Cubs win the World Series, just for the sake of being different.

Then there's the matter of the garbage strike. Such a strange thing. "Garbage strike" makes me think of Mayor Lindsay’s New York, or less obscurely, Archie Bunker's New York. Something that happens in another time, another place. And yet we're beginning the second week of it here and now. The streets of downtown aren't overrun with packs of rats feasting large on uncontrollable human debris, but it may only be a matter of time. For what it's worth, the striking Teamsters say they won’t object if the City collects union-purview garbage around Wrigley Field for the duration of the playoffs.

Out in my suburb, management is picking up tomorrow, garbage day. But only regular garbage, no recyclables. As for my office, our landlord is discouraging us from filling our trash cans. But our landlord owns over 600 office buildings, and I know for a fact that it has the wherewithal to haul away our garbage. So I filled my trash can completely today to see what would happen.