And I don’t mean when he was a kid. I mean when he was in his mid-20s.
I remembered this time in our lives as I was driving down Clybourn Ave today as the place where he picked the papers up was near the intersection of Fullerton, Clybourn and Ashland (goddamn angle streets with your confusing six corners and non-grid nonsense).
Anyways, at the time Jason was a writer for a baseball blog (which by the way led us to an Ernie Banks charity wine event (we were sent as reporter and photographer (I didn’t know anything about photography at the time but I faked it) as it was a media only thing) in which Ernie Banks started talking to us, found out that we were physicists and spent the rest of the night calling us his “physicist friends”… it was at this time that Jason had just started his new job and had left the field of physics and said to me, “If you tell Ernie Banks I’m no longer a physicist I will kill you.” He made Ernie Banks laugh. I don’t know if the birth of his kids will trump that moment.)….holy crap that was a lot of nestled parentheses… and somehow also got hooked up with The Heckler .
He wrote a couple of articles for them, but his main deal with them was to deliver the hard copy of their publication to bars around the city. For something like $70 a month. That’s how poor we were, like that $70 kinda made a difference in our monthly living. We were living in the Ukrainian village in a shitty ass apartment and getting really excited if we had $10 left on the last Tuesday of the month because Small Bar would have some beer special for $4 each so we could each have one and leave some money for a tip.
At some point he stopped doing it because really the charm of being a 27 year old paper delivery boy wears off pretty fast. That and I think we were just dropping off the papers and having a beer at the bars, thus somewhat negating the $70 per month that we were making.
Eventually Jason got a “real” job and made some “real” money. I think back to that time and really if you had told me that in less than 10 years we’d have a house in the city and a pretty nice little lifestyle, I wouldn’t have believed you. I mean I was living in a mouse invested apartment that had a heat problem while trying to write my thesis. I would take a bath in basically boiling water to warm up and then write until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore and then repeat the process. And even with all that, I look back on those years with extreme fondness. I also don’t think I would have believed had you told me that would be my feelings many years later. Funny how life goes like that.Rose colored glasses and all.