Essays, Interviews, Observations, Pop Culture, Stories, and other Dodginess

In Indiana, Boom Go the Fireworks!

Posted on June 20, 2013

The city of Gary has announced that all vacant buildings will be used to sell fireworks. Some will operate through July 4 while others will remain open year-round.

In other news, neighboring Hobart says its opening a new fireworks store on Route 30 inside one of its existing fireworks stores.

“Hoosiers were calling for this,” said Hobart spokesman Dan Trillo.

The Indiana General Assembly just convened an emergency session where it will allow all liquor stores, closed on Sundays by law, to be open on Sunday strictly to sell fireworks.

“No Miller Lite for you, but feel free to purchase Cherry Bombs, Roman Candles and shells,” state Sen. Randolph Gerry said.

Indiana is embracing itself as the Fireworks State. Back to Gary, the city has announced its latest gun buy-back program. Only this time, instead of receiving cash for firearms, gun owners will receive fireworks.

There’s always room to sell fireworks, whether it’s vacant buildings in Gary or vacant land in Calumet Township. It’s where you can find Brendan Tooges, 39, near the corner of Ridge Road and Burr Avenue. Tooges has a unique “two-fer” business going on. He offers Freon refills for your car air conditioner and a small tent where you can shop for fireworks.

“I’ve sold rugs, candles and tire wash here along with my Freon,” Tooges said “But nothing is as good as gold as these here firecrackers. And the state allows it. God bless them.”

Julie Sturgis, of Merrillville, doesn’t want to bless the state government.

“I think its ironic that many cities and towns want to ban smoking in public places and yet encourages the sales of fireworks year-round,” she said. “Sometimes there’s so much smoke from fireworks going off that I can’t even see the front door of my trailer when I get home from work.”

Although fireworks laws are lax statewide, the boom of sales and activity occurs in Northwest Indiana – most likely to lure customers from neighboring Illinois, where fireworks are illegal, save for a few novelty items.

“I always come to Indiana for my three g’s – gas, cigarettes, and fireworks,” said Larry Jason, of Lynwood, Ill.

Northwest Indiana was in line to take a financial hit following the cancellation of its popular air show this July at Gary’s Marquette Beach because of the federal sequester.

Not anymore.

The Northwest Indiana Tourism Authority, which helmed the air show, has announced a replacement ticketed event, simply entitled Boom Show!

Instead of the Blue Angels soaring over Lake Michigan, local pyrotechnic operators will be stationed on a barge on the lake, where they will produce “Indiana’s largest fireworks display,” said a tourism spokeswoman. But that’s only part of it. Officials announced that visitors who come to the beach can bring their own fireworks and shoot them off randomly.

“Hoosiers love to blow sh*t up,” the spokeswoman said.

 

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I, Spider

Posted on June 7, 2013

Spider can often be seen working on cars in the Bucktown neighborhood of Chicago. That’s when we don’t take our vehicles to his homestead in Indiana, near a cornfield, where three or four non-operational vehicles sit in the driveway. They’d probably be in his garage but he has a lot of junk in there. Engine blocks, three riding lawnmowers (one that works), a motorcycle with no gas tank or seat, and various scraps of metal and car parts. There are several posters on the wall featuring women wearing bikinis and high heels (I never understood that look). There’s also a Sex and The City poster (TV show version) and on one shelf what Spider calls “a Japanese motorcycle helmet.”

Spider has been mentioned once or twice in this blog, and I asked Spider if he wanted to contribute to it. At first he didn’t know what a blog was. He thought it was maybe a cheesy title of a monster movie. “The Blog!”

I decided to decipher words out of his mouth  – sound bits from a conversation – and come up with a Spider post. It might be a regular thing. The monkeywrench says some interesting stuff. Here’s No. 1. It occurred while he was taking a nap.

I, Spider

You laugh…but I lay here and laugh. It’s not time to get up. When it is, I’ll work on cars or what-not. My online Russian girlfriend sent me an email in French. She sent me a picture and I don’t know, it was crazy. Her friend was in it and she had tight pants. My vehicle almost started on fire at the car wash today. Holy cow the flame was this high! Fast and Furious 6  is out and I’ll probably go see it. I have the last one on DVD. I do need a big-screen TV though.

I Spider

 

Mr. Chang and the Trailer Park Party

Posted on June 3, 2013

“Mind nobody’s business and keep the noise down when you throw an immigrant social”

Mr Chang owned a Chicago-area trailer park and was a close acquaintance of the mom of my friend Johnny. During our senior year of high school Mr. Chang let Johnny and our other friend, Kingston, rent a trailer to live in.

This wasn’t like one of those John Hughes movies where all the cool kids partied at rich North Shore homes, but for us it was a big deal. We had a place. To party. To drink. To sex.

I remember going with Johnny and Kingston to meet Mr. Chang. Although he had an office and his own trailer at the park where my friends were renting, we met Mr. Chang at a nearby warehouse in an industrial section of town. The only thing we knew about Mr. Chang was his involvement in several businesses, including low-budget film production and, rumored had it, porn. When we walked through the doors at this warehouse Mr. Chang was sitting in a big leather chair watching a skinny guy dance to the theme from a Friday the 13th movie while wearing nothing but jean shorts and a pillow case over his head.

When this “audition” was over Mr. Chang called us into his office. I was surprised to discover he wasn’t Asian, despite his name (our friend Kingston is Chinese, by the way). Mr. Chang was bald with a full salt-and-pepper-beard and a nose that looked like a large fist. He went over some of the rules and regulations of the trailer. He scanned the three of us and warned us to “mind nobody’s business and keep the noise down when you throw an immigrant social.”

When we left we encountered the guy who was dancing, sans pillow case, which had been covering up long wild red hair and buck teeth. He was sweaty and drinking a Diet Coke. “I know about you guys,” he said. “I’m gonna come party with you.”

I helped the guys move in on a late September afternoon. Our school’s homecoming bonfire was that night and we planned to bring classmates back with us for our first party. While we were moving in we saw several half naked women and men come and go from another trailer nearby. One of the guys was dressed like Zorro. We also saw camera and lighting equipment.

I was looking forward to hanging out at the trailer because I would be the Dj at the parties and I thought it would be a good way to impress Mackenzie, a junior transfer student from New York. I read a school article about her when she moved into the area that summer. At first I fell in love with her picture. But that was nothing compared to when I saw her the first day of school. She looked like the cute sister of a Disney princess. She joined the drama club that my friend, Cece, was active in. I planned to  talk Cece into having some extra rehearsals at the trailer. Their first play, written by Cece, was called “Free Winona.”

I didn’t see Mackenzie at the party, but Johnny’s older sister was there, and she brought someone whose name I only recall as being “Shempel.” He was a chef and brought mushrooms, but not the restaurant kind. He and a group of other kids were playing a drinking game. The trailer was packed. Pom-pom girls, stoners, geeks, jocks, and the German club shared the trailer’s narrow hallway as kids made their way in and out of various rooms. Someone even had a Ouija board.

As the DJ, I remember the first song I played. I don’t recall the others. Except the last one, because that’s when Mackenzie walked in.