That’s Harper in his Seeing Eye graduation picture.

Last week we got word that Harper, the lovable yellow Labrador who saved Beth from being hit by a car years ago, passed away. He was 14.

 I chronicled Harper’s heroism in real time in a blog post—I hope you’ll take the time to read (or re-read) it. He really was a hero.

 Speaking of heroes, our friends who have taken Beth’s retired Seeing Eye dogs all should get Purple Hearts. They get terrific canine companions, yes—but the dogs are at the back end of their lives. To Randy (Dora), Nancy and Steven (Hanni), Chris and Larry (Harper), and Elisse (Whitney)—thank you for your generosity and for making parting with Beth’s dogs happy retirement parties, rather than sad goodbyes.

With that I’ll turn the blog over to one of Harper’s humans—Larry, who has his own poignant story that, as fate had it, would intertwine with Harper’s. After Harper and Beth’s near miss with a car, Harper experienced a sort of canine PTSD. Harper simply would not guide Beth more than a block from home. As it turns out, Larry—a Vietnam war veteran—understood Harper, and vice versa. With that, I’ll let Larry tell their story:

Harper came into my/our life at just the right time. I had mistakenly decided that I would retire, having convinced myself that I didn’t have the desire or energy to do the resume/interview thing again.

The problem with that thinking was that I have used work as a narcotic in my life. If I worked 12, 16 or 18 hours a day I could sleep through nights that would otherwise be the playground of the bugs and demons of my military and childhood experiences. When Harper came to live with us, I had run through all of the home repair projects that I had been using to keep me busy, and had become a raving insomniac. Harper arrived disoriented, and I had the impression that he also had demons that he was confronting.

When Hanni (on the left), met Harper (on the right), and Whitney with her back to the camera.

Chris worked with him during the day showing him that it was ok to relax and walk and sniff. At night Harper and I would sit in the dark, each, I’m sure, thinking “What is he thinking about, what is keeping you awake tonight?” At first he would stay in his bed with me watching as he would slowly drift off into a sometimes fitful sleep. I started to realize that I was drifting off first, sleeping in my chair, only to wake up to see a big yellow dog staring at me as if to say, “OK, now what?”

As the months rolled by, Harper became more comfortable in his new surroundings. I was sleeping more, and he was now sleeping in our bedroom—mostly in his bed. Sometimes he would sleep on the floor next to me. He would wake me up by laying his big head on the edge of the bed on those nights that my dreams were not so nice.

Harper was never one to be hugged, yet he loved to have his back and butt scratched. He loved to play the game of “find it,” where Chris would have him sit in the kitchen and then hide treats throughout the house and have him find them, encouraging him to “find it Harper, find it.” He loved the game or maybe it was the treat; regardless, I loved it.

Harper always met us with a wagging tail; I believe he loved people. If Chris and I got too heated in our breakfast conversation, he would come and stand between us, as if to say, “Is this really necessary?”

As we got older he became more and more uncomfortable with thunderstorms. We all spent some sleepless nights listening to thunder and rain. Nothing in my life has had as much meaning as those rainy nights when I was sure that in some small part I was repaying Harper for the nights that he helped me get through.

Yep Harper was a special guy, and will be missed.

Mark your calendars: the 37th annual Printers Row Lit Fest is next weekend! This year’s two-day literary extravaganza in Chicago takes place on Saturday and Sunday, September 10 and 11. The fest features close to 150 presenters, And I’m one of them.

Date: Saturday, September 10
Time: 11am to 11:45 a.m.
Location: Grace Place (637 S. Dearborn St.), 2nd Floor
Program: Unlocking Memories and Uncovering Stories

Chicago author Beth Finke interviews two writers from the memoir-writing classes she leads to find out how they managed to get their stories published as children’s books while sheltering in place during COVID.
Bindy Bitterman, author of children’s book “Skiddly Diddly Skat” and Sharon Kramer, author of children’s book “Time for Bubbe” in conversation with Chicago author Beth Finke

Bindy Bitterman and Sharon Kramer will sign books at Grace Place after the presentation — Printers Row Lit Fest is sponsoring a short book signing for them right there. Meanwhile, Seeing Eye dog Luna and I will hightail it to a table across the street in front of Sandmeyer’s, our favorite local bookstore to chat with passers-by and sign books for any and all interested bookworms.

Sandmeyer’s first honored me with a spot at their table way back when my children’s book “Safe and Sound” was published and Printer’s Row Lit Fest was still called Printer’s Row Book Fair. This year they’ll have copies of “Safe and Sound” available at our table for Luna and me to sign, along with my memoir “Long Time, No See” and my most recent book, “Writing Out Loud.”

September 10, 2022 (Saturday) noon to 1 p.m.
Booksigning
Chicago author Beth Finke
Sandmeyer’s Bookstore
714 S. Dearborn St.
Chicago, IL 60605
312-922-2104

It can make a person feel downright proud, living in a neighborhood that devotes an entire festival to books every year. If you’re free on Saturday, September 10, 2022 consider coming down to Printers Row and checking out the hood. And our 11 a.m. presentation there on September 10, too, of course.

I’m all for electrification. For houses, for cars, appliances, lawn tools, tractors, trucks, you name it. That’s how we reduce carbon and and climate change.

But not electric scooters. Or “electric bicycles.” (A motor-powered bicycle is, to me, a contradiction in terms. Hence quotes.) Really, it’s like ill-behaved dogs and other pets—it’s not the vehicles that are the problem, it’s the riders/drivers.

Here in my neighborhood, the use of the electric scooters, electrically-aided bicycles, electric skateboards, and things I can’t even describe—has exploded post covid. And like post-covid behavior on the roads, somehow rules and norms have gone out the window. I live on Dearborn Street, where several years ago Rahm Emanuel in a fit of goodness constructed a beautiful protected bike lane that one can ride all the way from our neighborhood to the River North neighborhood.

But if one does, one must obey the traffic lights and other conventions. Which ain’t happening.

It has become a common occurrence for one of our neighbors to yell at bicyclists riding on the Dearborn sidewalk parallel to that aforementioned bike lane, squeezing through passages that have been narrowed by sidewalk cafes.

For those of you who remember “Breaking Away,” I dream of the stick in the spokes scene. He didn’t deserve it. These people do.

It’s totally inconsistent, which makes it hard on pedestrians and drivers. Right now I see bicycles on sidewalks, in traffic even though there’s a bicycle lane readily available, and, hallelujah, others using the bike lanes.

I see scooters in all three avenues, too.

If you look at promotions for these electric things one of the funnier claims is that they’re good for the environment. Um, probably not. Batteries require resources and making them isn’t a pretty, clean process. So we’re doing that instead of asking people to, you know, walk. Pedal. Push off. A little more exercise would be good for all of us.

Anyway, like a lot of stuff I imagine that regulation and legalities will catch up and help remedy the matter. In some states and localities, the rules are clearer than others. And that is as it should be. The suburbs are a very different environment than where I live. But right now I see bicycles on sidewalks, in traffic when there’s a bicycle lane readily available, and, hallelujah, using the bike lanes.

And I wonder, if I’m a pedestrian and I get struck by a bicyclist or scooter, are they liable? Do they have insurance (answer is likely no).

I also see a nice source of revenue here. Just station bike cops all over and start handing out $50 tickets. We’d get a boost and it’d probably fix the problem in 3-6 months.

And then of course, the ambulance—er, scooter—chasers will probably jump in at any time now. And, maybe that’s not a bad thing.

The circus that American politics has become recalls one of my favorite George Carlin quotes: “When you’re born into this world, you get tickets to the freak show. If you’re born in America, you get front row seats.”

But a funny thing has happened over the past two years. The Biden administration has accomplished a lot. I voted for him, but even I—who prides myself on staying up to date—was surprised when a politically savvy friend forwarded an opinion piece to me that enumerated some pretty big wins after years/decades of congressional gridlock on stuff like infrastructure. (Remember infrastructure week? It was infrastructure weak.)

Here’s a list of the major bills that the writer, Art Friedson, enumerated:

The American Rescue Plan, a $1.9 trillion COVID relief package

The Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act, which will funnel billions to states and local governments to upgrade outdated roads, bridges, and transit systems.

The CHIPS and Science Act, which aims to bring chip manufacturing back on shore and bolster research to regain technological supremacy vis-à-vis China.

The gun safety bill was a small step—but it was a step—after decades of inaction.

And most recently, probably nearest and dearest to my heart, is the poorly named Inflation Reduction Act. Poorly because it’s as much about reducing addressing climate change as inflation.

In my day job, reducing carbon in the built environment is our mission. I hang with a lot of knowledgeable people. And people who know think this bill, as Biden reminded Obama, is a big deal. It’s long overdue, but again, after eons of inaction, it’s a giant step forward. It involved compromise with Senator Joe Manchin—but it’s a net win. (And, in fact, we simply can’t switch off fossil fuel, even if we’d like to.)

Full disclosure: The bill promises to be good for my organization. Here’s a rundown from a Phius policy expert on how it may affect us and our constituents.

I’ll end with this quote from the same piece by Friedson. It’s from Stuart Steven, a former Republican strategist:

“Republicans had years to pass an alternative to Obamacare. Never did it. Republicans had years to pass an infrastructure bill. Never did it. 

Governing isn’t attacking the other side, it’s getting sh*t done.”

The good news is Lollapalooza, the mega-music festival that brings hundreds of thousands of fans to Chicago over four days, is over.

The bad news is that the City just signed a deal to hold Lolla for the next 10 years. (And, next year, we’ll also have a NASCAR race downtown that will shut down Grant Park for two weeks. Between that and Lolla, the park will be largely off limits to the public for a month over the summer next year.)

You may remember that eight years ago I blogged about my annoyancewith Lollapalooza.  Well, I’m eight years crankier. Each year there’s a different uniform of sorts, with the general trend of young women wearing less and less every year. Glitter is the constant. And Lollapalemmings still travel in packs and they still are oblivious to their surroundings, regularly blocking sidewalks and crosswalks. Helicopters and ambulance sirens are nearly constant.

But it brings in money and fills the hotels and yada, yada, yada. It also takes a huge swath of public parkland out of commission for weeks between preparation and cleanup. And selling access to a public facility that taxpayers have paid for to a private entity, in principle, is hard to swallow. On balance, though, I’m willing to live with it. We’re pretty close to Grant Park so we feel the inconvenience more than people who live in other parts of the city. If it’s good for the city, OK I guess.

Ugh.

There’s another aspect to it that’s a function of our times: During any big gathering now we cross our fingers that there will not be some kind of mass shooting. Of course, so does the City of Chicago. And that was plenty evident on Sunday at the Hilton Towers on Michigan Avenue, across from Grant Park. Beth swims there and I use the gym, and we went Sunday afternoon, the last day of Lolla. After my workout, a sauna and a shower, I got dressed and came out into the lobby to meet Beth and Luna and walk home together.

As I turned to drop my locker key off at the desk, I was greeted by a jolting image. A Chicago police officer was at the desk. Which wasn’t itself a big deal. The big deal was that in addition to his service revolver, an assault-style rifle was clipped to bullet-proof body armor. The thing was terrifying just to look at.

A second officer, similarly equipped, joined him. They chatted with the desk attendants and then headed outside to a terrace that is attached to the health club.

The club and terrace are on the eighth floor, so it affords a wide view. My guess is that officers were perched on buildings up and down Michigan Avenue—and probably at hi-rise condos at the end of the park, too.

I’m elated to say there was no incident–other than probably a fair number of ODs that likely necessitated all those ambulances and sirens.

But, Mike, Mike, Mike: For the last time, make plans now to be out of Chicago for the next Lolla.