the Heroes of Wicker Park

so I'm doing this show in my old neighborhood. my embarassingly 'hip' gentrified old neighborhood. I should mention that it was embarassing and gentrified and tried ever so hard to be hip before I moved in, not after. But I've spent a couple years using Wicker Park as a punch line: the boys and girls with the uniform jeans and haircuts, the same ol same ol week after week dance keggers, even something as antisocial as grafitti falling victim to trends (if you're paying attention, stencil pirates out, sticker/wheatpaste blitzkriegs in).

The show I'm in is called The Heroes of Wicker Park. It is a site-specific spectacle that celebrates the history of the park itself. The park is an interesting spot. It is bordered by Milwaulkee Avenue, an old Indian road that has been paved over with wood, brick and asphalt. The neighborhood has housed such giants as Nelson Algren, Lucy Parsons, Ignacy Paderewski, who are honored in the show. The neighborhood has a weird energy overall. My old friend Pinky says he still dreads going down there sometimes, and did when I lived there because something just wasn't right. Some have argued that it has something to do with electromagnetic lay lines, a theory that seems popular with people whom were hung up on the Bermuda Triangle when they were children, that explains why some places have weirder stories than others. They attest that that's why the Iroquois or whomever had built their roads there.

None of this matters. What matters is that it's a beautiful show and, more important than that, is one completely devoid of cynicism. It's nice that I can perform in a show and look out and see families, see little children smiling. It's cleansing in a way and possibly helps to counteract all the time I spend writing animal fucker jokes for the Gentlemen Callers

I don't know if this show will lead to any others. I am only a small part of it, playing a djembe in a much more talented ensemble but hopefully you'll be able to come out and see it.

Rock. ELR