Oct. 15, 2013—
If you are in rough current, you look for signs.
I live on the near West Side of Chicago where there are more coffee shops than grocery stores. More often than not I’m served coffee to go by slow moving, glum characters listening to Morphine.
This is no way to start the day. On Monday morning I stopped at Swim Cafe for their fine coffee and oatmeal with brown sugar.
A new barista was behind the counter dancing to “I’m Coming Out.” She was in her inner disco zone as she was preparing a bagel.
I knew the dance-funk song but I had forgotten who had the hit. I looked it up when I got to my glum place of work——(Diana Ross, 1980; [...]
