Sep 20 2025 2025-09-20 2025-09-20 by Ross

Riot Fest Day 1 – Notes from the Field…

Posted in Music

I kicked off Riot Fest the way a lot of Chicagoans probably did — on the Pink Line, crammed in with band t-shirt–wearing festival-goers. Unfortunately, my ride included one Annoying CTA Lady: an old punk who spent the whole trip monologuing about politics. Apparently, she’s less interested in what songs Jack White, Stiff Little Fingers, or Green Day might play, and more into hoping they deliver anti-Trump sermons. The irony of preaching “tolerance” while spewing hatred was lost on her. Luckily, the rest of the car was filled with people happily comparing setlists and band tees — the way it should be.

Shonen Knife & the Warm-Up Acts

First stop was Shonen Knife, my festival opener. Three Japanese women, smiling, having fun, and blasting pop-rock. It was the perfect antidote to CTA Lady. From there, I wandered into Loviet’s set, half-expecting filler. Instead, she crushed it — strong vocals, great energy, the kind of surprise that makes a festival worthwhile. Bookmark that name; she’s going places.

 

Then came Mac Sabbath. Imagine a metal band in full McDonald’s cosplay. It’s a one-joke act, and I stayed for exactly one joke (one song) before moving on. The real find was The Barbarians of California — good old hardcore punk with a frontman who looked like David from Mythic Quest. Raw, fast, loud, and fun.

Brats & Punk “Consistency”

Food break: Publican’s cheddar brat, because sometimes you need fuel more than another band. Here’s an aside: it took me 90 minutes at Riot Fest to see a single Black attendee, and another 90 to see a second. Punk, for all its “we’re so rebellious” branding, has become largely a gathering of white folks shouting about systems — but only the ones they don’t control. The old spirit of hating all government has shifted into selective outrage. I’ve stayed consistent: I don’t like any of it.

Back to the music. I ate lunch while The Tossers played their Pogues-inspired Irish tunes. Then came Shudder to Think, my first miss of the day. Not my taste — vocals flat, maybe the mix, maybe the style, either way, I bailed. Camper Van Beethoven, on the other hand, delivered exactly what I expected: older, sure, but still tight. And The Hold Steady? Craig Finn sounded fantastic, expressive, and enjoying himself. Highlight of the day.

Evening Highlights & Weird Al Close

By the time my wife arrived, I was ready to wander. We landed at Senses Fail, where I caught the first true political rant from the stage (again, incoherent). Music was decent but not for me, though I’ll give them credit — closing with “Twist and Shout” complete with marching band, Ferris Bueller cosplay, and a baton toss? That worked.

Then came the band I’d most looked forward to: Alkaline Trio. I’ll be honest — meh. The live set didn’t capture what makes their studio albums pop. Short vocals, just not clicking. Contrast that with Jenny Lewis (Rilo Kiley): her voice matched her records perfectly, strong and clear. That’s the difference live music makes — when the vocals don’t land, I’m out.

We closed the night with Weird Al. He always delivers, and he did again. Only problem? The endless sea of cell phones blocking the view. Folks, take a photo, maybe 10 seconds of video, and then enjoy the show. Nobody behind you paid to watch your screen.

Wrap-Up

Day 1 delivered the full Riot Fest experience: surprises (Loviet, Barbarians of California), nostalgia (Hold Steady, Camper Van Beethoven), letdowns (Alkaline Trio, Shudder to Think), and a classic Weird Al finish. Annoying CTA Lady aside, it was a solid kickoff. Back again today for more.


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Sep 16 2025 2025-09-16 2025-09-16 by Ross

Q: How did Ross die? A: Hypervigilance

Posted in Family

You know that old saying, “No news is good news”? Yeah, well, whoever came up with that never had 20-something kids out in the world. For me, no news is the exact opposite. No news means something is definitely wrong.

Every silence? Proof they’re slipping deeper into mental illness. Every delay in answering? Clearly drugs. Every time they don’t confirm they’re fine in the last three minutes? They’ve just made a catastrophic life decision.

Living in DEFCON 1

I’m basically living in a Cold War bunker inside my own head. Except instead of watching Russia, I’m tracking my kids. Every minute of the day is a red alert.

Normal parent thought: “They’re probably busy.”
My thought: “They’re probably face down in a ditch, and I should start preparing a statement for the press conference.”

It doesn’t matter if they texted me two hours ago. In my mind, that’s plenty of time for their lives to have completely unraveled.

Coping Skills That Don’t Stand a Chance

  • Meditation? I close my eyes and immediately picture the ambulance.
  • Mindfulness? Yeah, I’m mindful that silence equals disaster. Thanks.
  • Exercise? Great, now my heart rate is high for two reasons and I’ve had thirty minutes to imagine even worse scenarios.

Basically, all the coping tricks experts suggest just give me extra time to imagine new horrors.

The Cruel Joke

Here’s the punchline: I’m the one falling apart. They’re out living their blissful 20-something lives—going to brunch, posting Instagram stories, probably rolling their eyes at my worried texts—while I’m the one who’s going to die first.

Not from old age, not from illness, but from being the unpaid, full-time security guard of their lives.

So What Now?

I don’t have an answer yet. I wish I did. I know I can’t keep going like this forever, but I also know turning it off isn’t as simple as everyone says. For now, all I can do is admit it: I’m exhausted, I’m scared, and I’m trying to laugh at it a little, because otherwise I’ll just cry..and I have done a lot of that.  As I type this, I’m doing all I can to finish my work day without having a major panic attack.  I’m a freaking mess.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to believe “no news is good news.” But today? No news feels like the loudest, scariest news in the world.


Sep 16 2025 2025-09-16 2025-09-16 by Ross

Lock It Like You Mean It…

Posted in Work

You know what I don’t understand? We have two bathrooms at work. Each one requires a key to open. Fine. That’s normal. But inside each bathroom is not one, but two locks:

  • A slidey lock (classic, reliable, like your grandma’s screen door).
  • A turny lock that, when engaged, lights up the outside like Times Square and proudly announces: “IN USE.”

It is the Cadillac of locks. The HIPAA of bathroom privacy. A lock that literally communicates your presence to the world.

And yet… nobody uses it.

Instead, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve unlocked the bathroom door, key halfway in, only to hear the desperate, panicked cry of a co-worker from within: “I’m in here!”

Oh, you’re in there? Funny, I couldn’t tell. You know how I could have known? If you had turned the freaking lock designed for this exact situation.

I swear, if I got a dollar for every “I’m in here!” scream, I’d be a millionaire by now.  Wanna bet they don’t use their turn signals on the road either?

It’s not hard. One motion, one flick of the wrist. Twist. Done. Problem solved. It’s easy as pie.

But no, apparently that’s too much to ask. Instead, we live in a society where bathroom roulette is a daily game. Will the door be locked? Will Karen be inside mid-squat? Will you both leave traumatized? Place your bets.


Sep 15 2025 2025-09-15 2025-09-15 by Ross

And you may ask yourself, my God what have I done!

Posted in Triathlon

So, in a moment of questionable judgment—or maybe sheer desperation—I went ahead and signed up for Ironman Wisconsin.

I’m… fat, out of shape, and can barely run 2 miles without getting injured.

Here’s the thing, though—I need this. I’ve been feeling like life’s been running me instead of the other way around. Stress, self-doubt, struggling with empty nest and adult-child worries, watching the years fly by, while I keep telling myself “tomorrow” is when I’ll get it together. Signing up for another Ironman might be the worst idea I’ve ever had—or maybe it’s precisely what I need to shake myself awake.

I’m not doing this because I think I can win my age group (although it will be the 60-64 now) or even set a PR. I’m doing it because I need to remind myself that I can do hard things. That I can put one foot in front of the other—even if it’s slow, even if it’s messy, even if I question every life choice somewhere around mile 85 of the bike or every single mile of the run.

Will I regret this? Almost definitely at some point. But right now, I feel a flicker of something I haven’t felt in a while: hope. Hope that in training, I’ll not only get stronger physically but claw back some confidence. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll cross that finish line and remember that I actually do know what the heck I’m doing in this life.

So yeah—Ironman Wisconsin. Pray for me. Or better yet, join me.


Sep 15 2025 2025-09-15 2025-09-15 by Ross

Last Week in “Training”…

Posted in Training, Triathlon

I’m putting “training” in quotes because what I did last week barely qualifies as exercise, let alone preparation for a triathlon.  Whatever, I’ve got to start somewhere, even if that somewhere is square one… again.

Here’s the highlight reel: three short runs (and by short, I mean “longer than walking to the fridge but shorter than anything impressive”) and two short swims (quick dips). Nothing special, nothing brag-worthy, but I did it.

Consistency hasn’t exactly been my strong suit lately. Between random life interruptions, “reasons,” and my Olympic-level procrastination skills, I haven’t strung together much more than a couple of guilt workouts in weeks. But the good news is, this time there are no surgeries, tattoos, or trips on the calendar—so I’ve officially run out of excuses.

The plan is simple: survive a month of doing this semi-regularly, then let the bike back into the rotation. I keep telling myself I’ll bike to work, but so far that’s all it is; telling myself.  Haven’t actually done it.

So yeah—five workouts in one week. Nobody’s writing me a sponsorship deal yet, but it’s a start. And if the definition of “training” is “moving your body while thinking about martinis and pizza,” then I’m absolutely crushing it.


Sep 15 2025 2025-09-15 2025-09-15 by Ross

Rolling the Rock (a Teacher’s Perspective)…

Posted in Uncategorized

Some days teaching feels like pushing a giant boulder up a hill. I plan lessons that I think are clever, current, and directly tied to my students’ lives. Debates on the limits of federal power, discussions about ICE in Chicago, sanctuary cities—the stuff that headlines are made of. The stuff that impacts their families, their neighbors, their futures.

And yet… blank stares. Shrugs. Apathy. Except, of course, for my AP kids who seem to show up with at least some spark of curiosity. Most days, though, it feels like the motivation I bring to class and the motivation my students bring are living on two totally different planets.

It’s exhausting. Teaching into the void wears you down in ways I didn’t fully appreciate when I first started. I show up with energy and preparation, and it’s met with silence. That silence gets heavy. It makes it hard to come to work, to roll the rock up the mountain every day, when the “payoff” might not show itself for years.

And maybe that’s the point I have to keep reminding myself of: the results don’t usually show up in the moment. They show up years later in the form of an email, a social media message, or a quick conversation at the grocery store. A student letting me know they graduated college. Another who’s now in law school. Someone who became a police officer, or a real estate agent, or joined the military.

Those are the reminders that the rock isn’t pointless. That it’s not rolling back down on me every day, even if it feels like it. It’s inching forward, even when I can’t see it.

Still, it’s tough to keep perspective in the moment. Burnout lurks in the background. Some days it’s hard to stay focused on the long game. But I’m trying. I’m trying to hang onto the truth that my role isn’t just about immediate reactions in the classroom—it’s about planting seeds that may not sprout until long after my students leave my room.

And maybe, just maybe, reminding myself of that will make tomorrow a little easier to face.  Although I am ready to retire.


Sep 13 2025 2025-09-13 2025-09-13 by Ross

Front Seat on the Struggle Bus…

Posted in Family

I thought I was ready for this stage of life. I mean, isn’t this what we raise kids for? To grow up, move out, and build lives of their own? That’s what everyone says. But I guess I never listened when anyone says how hard it can feel to suddenly go from being at the center of their everyday world to standing on the sidelines, hoping they’re okay.  I thought I would LOVE this stage.  All the free time.  All the “me” time.

It was so much simpler when they were little. They’d come home from school, drop their backpack, and I’d hear all about their day—who said what, what teacher gave too much homework, which friend made them laugh. I knew what time they went to bed, what they ate, and who they hung out with. I was part of the rhythm of their lives.

Now? I have no idea what time they go to sleep, who they’re with, or what struggles they’re quietly carrying. College and post-college life don’t exactly come with daily updates. Some days I hear a lot, other days I hear nothing. And in that silence, my mind fills in the blanks—sometimes with pride, most of the time with worry (okay, all the time with worry), and sometimes with a longing to know more. I find myself needing/wanting constant validation/confirmation that they are okay every minute of the day.  My mind won’t rest until I know for sure they are good.  It’s killing me (probably literally, the amount of stress can’t be healthy)

The hardest part is watching from afar when I do know they’re struggling. Stress about jobs, friendships, direction—it’s all part of becoming an adult, I know that. And I know I can’t fix it. As much as I want to swoop in with advice, connections, or even just a hug, I also know that if I try to fix everything, I’m robbing them of the lessons they only learn by figuring it out themselves. Growth doesn’t come from having life smoothed out for you. It comes from navigating the rough edges.

Still, it’s tough. There’s a helplessness in this stage of parenting that no one really prepares you for. The job now isn’t to manage their lives—it’s to trust them to live it. My role has shifted from director to cheerleader. I can’t control the play anymore, but I can be in the stands, rooting for them, even when I wish I could step in and call the next move.

I’d love to end this on a hopeful note or a piece of encouragement, but honestly? I’m not there yet. Right now, it feels like I’m still riding the struggle bus. What I would like is to meet up with other parents over a beer or two and talk about it all. Most “groups” I’ve found seem to be for parents dealing with much more serious issues, and that’s not what this is. This is just… normal, everyday hard.

One thing I’ve learned—belatedly—is that for all the times I thought of myself as an introvert or loner, I actually wish I had more friends to see regularly. Turns out, this parenting stage is a whole lot easier if you don’t try to go through it entirely on your own.

I’m an definitely NOT in a flow state lately 🙂

 


Sep 10 2025 2025-09-10 2025-09-12 by Ross

Things I Like…

Posted in Comics, Movies, Music, Television, Things I Like

Korean Dramas

Beyond the Bar – Netflix

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty – Netflix (same actress as King the Land)

TV Shows

Below Deck (all of them) – sad to say, it’s trash, but it turns the mind off for an hour.

Gilded Age – HBO Max

Fisk – Netflix (Australian)

Comic Books

Lazurus Fallen – Image

We’re Taking Everyone Down With US – Image

What’s the Furthest Place From Here – Image

(get it, I like Image comics.  Superhero comics, not so much.

Books:

Wizard’s First Rule – Terry Goodkind

Pariah – Dan Fesperman

Music:

The Warning Live at Auditorio Nacional

The Interrupters – ALL OF IT.


Sep 06 2025 2025-09-06 2025-09-06 by Ross

Back at it….

Posted in Misc

After some challenging (first-world-problems) years, I’m going to try to get back into decent shape.  Over the past year, I have been swimming regularly, but my running and biking have declined.  I’m going to work up a “get back to base” plan, and then I’ll build up for a bit until I’m ready for triathlon/marathon training.

In addition to that goal, I’m scaling back on being online.  Starting September 1st, I’ve stopped reading blogs, rarely go to X, don’t check news feeds, and generally cut out doom scrolling.  I still check Instagram because that’s usually not negative.

This place will return to training, cross-training (including skiing, hiking, and fishing, although fishing is not really considered training), and getting back into a flow state.  Along the way, I’ll share some random thoughts, things I like, and so on.

But as before, absolutely no politics.  There is enough of that elsewhere if you want to find it.