Here’s a record player you can put in your pocket, literally. Yep, it’s that small. I’d love to buy one just to hear the sound, but my feeling is it’s more novelty than quality.

But that’s ok, especially if you’re in a squeeze for room and just want to play a few records every once in a while. Novelty is the key, then. Maybe you want to take this thing camping, or outdoors, on your back patio? Here’s the good news, it’s wireless too. You can connect your favorite Bluetooth speaker with it to boost the warmth of the vinyl.

As you watch the video above you’ll get extremely excited. That’s the same feeling I got.

But, as seen from the reviews below, it’s not “worth the money.” This might be a relative thing. Many users liked it, but most thought it was still just “a toy.”

For those of us who haven’t listened to a record in a long time, or can’t listen to a certain record because it’s only on vinyl, this might be the way to go, without having to buy a whole system?

But a bit of a warning, some users have complained that this little box has wrecked their records? If that is the case, destroying any piece of vinyl, expensive or not, is unacceptable, and not worth the novelty. So, play at your own risk.

Subscribe to my blog below.

Chip and Dale are adorable and extremely sweet and handleable, six-month-old male guinea pigs looking for a loving guardian together.

Chip is a black and white smooth coat; Dale is an agouti long-haired guinea pig. These young pigs were turned into Friends of Petraits Rescue after being purchased at a pet store. Sadly, their human found himself too busy to care for them.

Guinea pigs are happiest in pairs, and these boys get along beautifully.

Because Dale has long hair, he will need daily brushing and regular grooming to keep his hair from matting.

Guinea pigs eat a diet of unlimited Timothy and Orchard hays, pellets and fresh vegetables including romaine, red leaf and green leaf lettuces, cilantro, cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, etc. Guinea pigs, just like humans, can’t manufacture their own vitamin C, so they need to supplement with red pepper and many other vitamin C-rich foods.

Please read up on guinea pig care and diet before adopting by visiting this excellent web site http://www.guinealynx.info/.

These boys would love a home with people who will handle them daily, keep them well fed, and keep their habitat nice and clean.

If you’re interested in possibly adopting Chip and Dale, please contact [email protected] for an adoption application.

She is being fostered in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood.

Their adoption fee of $80 as a pair benefits the Friends of Petraits Rescue. For an additional $100, we’ll include a package of absolutely everything you need to care for them including a large cage, pellets, hay, litter, hidey huts and water bottle.

And, yes … Friends of Petraits is handling masked, minimum contact, socially distant adoptions.

From the usual suspects: “ACLU staffer fumes at university for accepting Nick Sandmann, calls it a ‘stain’ on the school: report.”

Will the woke fanatics ever learn? The slander of Nick Sandman, the student who stood calmly in front of an activist who was chanting in his face has been widely rebutted.

CNN has settled a multimillion-dollar defamation Sandman filed but, “An American Civil Liberties Union official in Kentucky chastised Transylvania University over the weekend for accepting Nicholas Sandmann as a student, calling the move a ‘stain’ on the institution.”

Can’t they leave the kid alone? Has it come to this, that the woke fanatics go after a college freshman who did no wrong?

Yes it has.

To the everlasting shame of the American media, Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden has escaped the kind of tough questions that voters are entitled to have answered.

Finally, Fox News reporter Peter Doocy finally got Biden to answer one as the candidate was leaving another one of his non-press press conferences, to wit: You say you warned President Trump about the seriousness of the coronavirus back in January or February. If that’s so, then why did you hold a rally in March?

I’ll save you the trouble of watching the entire five minutes of a rambling, vacuous “response.” He doesn’t answer. This is scary.

Even though the name of the outdoor photo show I went to see recently was “These Extraordinary Times,” everything was sort of normal.

South Loop Neighbors—one of the earnest, very hardworking community organizations in the neighborhood—organizes a photo show every year of South Loop scenes.  This year there were two showings.  Both were at neighborhood farmers’ markets. 

I’d never submitted anything to the show before.  It’s been going for about 20 years.  As my Facebook friends know, I’m not exactly a good photographer….  But once in a while, by accident, I snap a good one.

I couldn’t resist.  I submitted a picture I called “Christopher Columbus’ last stand.”  The statue had already been attacked in Grant Park, at the entrance to the Museum Campus—and soon after I took the picture, it was taken down to appease violent rioters.  I took the picture to put on Facebook.  I did take time to frame it the way I thought it should be, before snapping it with my iPhone.  

I submitted it on deadline day, August 21.

The first showing of the photos was Thursday evening, August 27 at the South Loop farmers’ market, held in the driveway of Second Presbyterian Church at Cullerton and Michigan; the second showing was the morning of August 29 at Printers Row Park  farmers market on the 600 block of South Dearborn—and that was the day that struck me as a normal one, right out of old times–and better days–in the ‘hood. 

It was a beautiful and sunny day when I left the house to see how my picture looked, one of 20 that were submitted of scenes from around the neighborhood.  At both markets, SLN brought nice racks on which to hang the framed submissions.  And at both markets, they were easy to see and get to without disappearing into a mass of masked attendees buying victuals.  

Many people were there on that Saturday from the neighborhood, people  who I’ve known for years.  We’ve shared every aspect of our lives in every context, at everyone’s house and restaurant, park and cultural event; and we’ve shared opinions on  every current event emanating from the neighborhood and the world, whether they directly affected our lives or not.

And so, this “normalcy” sprouted as a few of us stood there in front of my picture, catching up.

“Isn’t it terrible that the Kenosha police shot that guy in the back seven times?” asked a woman who I’ve known and been friends with for 25 years.  Yes, it is, I agreed as I thought about Laquan McDonald and the Chicago cop who is serving a long sentence in prison for shooting him multiple times in the back.

Another friend and active member of SLN, who’d been in law enforcement at one time in his life said we have to wait to see what the investigation comes up with.  He cautioned against jumping to conclusions.  (Regardless of the burned buildings and the businesses ruined in Kenosha.)   

I walked him home, not far from where the farmers’ market was,  because I wanted to talk about my feelings of revulsion, not only because of a cop shooting someone in the back and paralyzing him and we still don’t know why—but for making the shootee—who’d been accused of sexual assault and wasn’t even allowed in Kenosha, and other things that got the victim to call the police—a hero.

Again, he said that we have to wait and see what the investigation turns up in Kenosha.

And we said goodbye.

I decided to pack it in myself, and as I walked toward Polk Street, I realized that a boarded up storefront in the iconic Donahue Building that was all boarded up was actually a local antique store that generally showcases tons of beautiful stuff in the windows.  I saw he had a crude “open” on the boarded up door and I walked in.

I’ve known the owner who’s lived and worked in the neighborhood for 25 years and found him in the maze of small rooms inside, which are all packed with everything from crystal bowls to Christmas nutcrackers. 

I spotted a beautiful piece of wrought iron I’d admired for a long time in his previously unboarded window, which I thought he’d sold when it suddenly disappeared a while back.  But he’d just moved it out of the window.   And I said I was going to buy it.  He told me he actually had two.  Did I want two?

I asked him for a discount if I bought two..  He said OK, and I went home to get some cash.

As I came down a small path on the way to my house, I ran into another neighbor who stopped me, and even though he was masked, as was I, I could see he was mad.  From his eyes.  

“What the hell has gotten into you lately?” he asked.  “Are you for Trump?”  I think you’ve gone nuts.”  Like everyone else i know, who sees everything as black/white, good/bad, like/no like, without nuance, he accused me of being a traitor.  I’ve been very critical of Biden and Harris in this blog—and rightly so.  Many times.  

But no one is allowed to discuss their shortcomings.  They’re the alternative to the guy who’s “stealing our democracy.”  Exactly how he’s doing that, no one can explain.   But he’s stealing it from us.  And the only people who can save it are the Batman and Robin of 2020:  Joe and Kamala.  Not good enough for me.  And it’s apparent the fix was in.

Another neighbor of mine, who happens to agree with me, and who I share articles with almost every day via email—and vice versa—agrees with me.  And I ran into him when I came out with the cash and was on the way back to the antique dealer.

I told him about my dressing down a few minutes before.  He and I follow political pundits online who we like very much, such as Jimmy Dore (who for four years has called Trump a symptom of a sick political system that has gotten even sicker because of the dems; and Krystal Ball and Saagar Enjeti, who have discussed such ideas as Biden actually EARNING our vote before we vote for him, and Harris being nothing but a phony servant of the elite establishment, rewarded well by the corporate establishment and the neocons.

As I walked back to the antique store, I ran into another old friend, watering her front yard.  I just happened to think, ironically, of how we met back in the very early 2000s and asked her if she remembered.   Yes, she did.  We met at a fundraiser for presidential candidate John Edwards who wanted to take on Bush in 2004 (which he ultimately did as John Kerry’s running mate).  

There wasn’t much more to say about politics.  We both remembered where we were and where we are now, the Iraq invasion still going on to one degree or another (for 17 years) which if we’d been told that back then we wouldn’t have believed.  We were sick enough after a few days of it back then.

She invited me in to see her recently (and beautifully) renovated kitchen, master bath, powder room, fireplace surround and entry hall.  And the transformation of her son’s room–he graduated from college and is out on his own.  It all looked beautiful.  Really nice. 

How our lives had changed—yet stayed the same, I thought.  When we met, her son hadn’t even started grammar school yet.

When I got back to the antiques store and paid for my beautiful new pieces of wrought iron, we got onto yet another political discussion.  And I was given an interesting earful of the latest “conspiracy” theories emanating from MSNBC about Trump stealing our democracy.  Or as competitor Fox News calls it, MSDNC.  

Which I don’t mention to disparage either cable station, or any cable station, or any conspiracy theory emanating from anywhere or for any reason.  That’s life now, for better or worse, win or lose.

The only reason I mention anything of this nature is to emphasize that in spite of almost everyone wearing a mask on a very pleasant, recent Saturday, life was very normal in the neighborhood.

People were out on the street, seeing old friends and neighbors, visiting the farmers’ market, seeing the SLN photo show, admiring a new kitchen re-do, remembering old times, patronizing local businesses (such as they are these days) and discussing politics. 

That was all I was thinking about as I turned the key in the door of my house, shut it and locked it behind me and turned on the TV, fired up the computer and made myself a snack while I listened and read of what was going on in the world.

Type your email address in the box and click the “create subscription” button. My list is completely spam free, and you can opt out at any time.

Maybe Trump is right, maybe the people who fought and died for this country are suckers and losers.

After all, they apparently fought and died so that a bunch of criminals and traitors could run this country into the ground.

Hardly the America represented by the Stars & Stripes.  Hardly the America for which so much blood was spilled.

Trump said that U.S. Marines who died at the Battle of Belleau Wood (a battle about which Trump knows NOTHING) were suckers.  He refused to go to an American cemetery in France to pay tribute to a bunch of losers.

In his defense, it was raining that day and he didn’t want to get stuck in traffic.  He also said that the weather would play havoc with whatever it is on top of his head.

If you don’t believe that Trump referred to dead soldiers as suckers and losers, then you haven’t been paying attention.

This has always been the way that he refers to the military, to military service and to personal sacrifice.

He called John McCain a loser because McCain was captured in Vietnam.  You can google that for yourself, but unless you just woke up from a 5-year coma, you’ve heard him say it or you’ve seen him tweet it.

He said that McCain was only a war hero because he got captured and he (Trump) likes people who weren’t captured.

Or weren’t killed, apparently.

Sure, now he says that “Nobody respects the military more than me,” just like he said that nobody respects women, nobody knows nuclear, nobody knows outer space, science, viruses, etc, etc…more than him.

According to Trump, he knows more about everything than anybody and is the most decent, moral, respectful person in the history of mankind.

There isn’t a place to draw a line anymore.  The line has been crossed so many times we can’t even see it in the rear view mirror.

Where were our so-called patriots when Trump attacked John McCain?  Or the Gold Star families?  Or the generals that he denigrated?  Or the lieutenant colonel that he fired for telling the truth and defending the Constitution?

Let a Black guy kneel during a stupid song and these guys are ready to go to war, but it’s OK for Captain Bone Spurs to dry hump Old Glory.

How is it that none of these idiots get the hypocrisy of Donald Trump talking about law and order when his entire presidency has been about breaking and disregarding our laws while doing everything in his power to undermine the Constitution?

Enough is enough.

I’ve had it with the hypocrisy, the fake, phony patriotism, the intolerance and the demented worship at the sacred altar of the 2nd Amendment, as if some bogeyman was actually coming for our guns.

This is not America, this is a desecration of the Red, White and Blue.

Maybe burning them would save our flags from bearing witness to the complete destruction of everything for which they once waved.

Subscribe to the Chicago Board of Tirade
* You will never get SPAM
* Your email address will never be sold or given away
* You will only receive emails on days I post.
* You can unsubscribe at any time
* You can contact me anytime at: [email protected]
* Just type your email address in the box below and click the “Create Subscription” button.

August 25, 2020

Dear Lena,

Today you gave birth to Veda Wallace at 2:06 pm at Prentice Women’s Hospital in Chicago. Brian was there by your side.

You were a champ in the delivery room and even sang the “Lego Movie” song, “Everything is Awesome!” to the doctor and nurses. I’m certain they thought you were a breath of fresh air with your fierce attitude and humor.

That’s my girl.

We finally met when Veda was five days old and it was love at first sight. And smell.

She’s so soft, tiny and has beautiful skin. She loves to hold her hands up to her face and sleep on your chest for hours.

My baby girl has her own baby girl.

And all is right in this world.

But this happy ending wasn’t so easy.

You struggled with fertility issues for almost three years.

Month after month and no pregnancy.

Maybe, maybe? No.

Disappointment. Sadness. Feeling inadequate.

Of course, everyone around you was getting pregnant. Baby Shower invitations and birth announcements filled your mailbox.

But you held your head up high and with grace, congratulated all of this new life around you.

Inside it must have been heartbreaking.

Meaux lit candles for you. Maureen prayed for you.

Teresa said it would happen, in time.

Mary offered her compassion. She’s been there.

Matt and Dana were your biggest cheerleaders.

Everyone was pulling for you.

You were meant to be a mother.

You were always a natural around children, even when feeding your first baby doll when you were three. Children love you, and you love them. I call it the Mary Poppins kind of love. Genuine. Honest. Sincere.

It wasn’t fair. You, of all people, deserved to be a mother. I cursed and cried to see you struggle, but I always had faith in you.

I believed you would succeed.

There was no medical reason for you not to get pregnant. It was, and still is, a mystery.

You endured a year with a fertility specialist going through invasive procedures, shots and pills. Seven unsuccessful attempts with IUI (intrauterine insemination) left you exhausted.

You wanted to give up and said, “Maybe I am just not supposed to have a baby and I will just concentrate on my career.”

I responded, “You can always have a career, but you can’t always have a baby.”

Please, don’t give up.

You asked the doctor if stress caused infertility and his reply was, “Even women in Aleppo, Syria get pregnant.”

I disagreed.

Two of your close friends went the IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) route and were successful.

That gave you hope.

One last chance.

Last November, you and Brian decided to prepare for IVF. Consultations and counseling commenced.

A giant box of medications was delivered in December. Things were moving forward. Your prospects for success were looking favorable.

You threw caution to the wind.

Let’s just enjoy the holidays. Forget about this baby thing for a while.

Ease up and relax.

We need a break.

A much needed break.

A vacation to Italy, right after Christmas, will be good for us before we start IVF in February.

Then, in the words of a former football player, Brian threw that Hail Mary Pass.

During a layover in Munich, Germany you purchased a pregnancy test at the airport.

Once you arrived in Verona, Italy, the test confirmed you were pregnant.

Can this be real? Am I really pregnant? Seriously?

Brian wanted the results to be sent for a “booth review,” until you could see the doctor once you returned home.

And confirm he did.

A miracle if there ever was one. You became pregnant on your own and the earth shook with happiness. At least my portion of earth did.

People often say that once you stop trying, you’ll get pregnant. Or, once you adopt a child, you will magically get pregnant.

But that’s not always the case and it’s not something you want to hear when you are desperate to have a baby.

You are healthy, strong and take such good care of yourself. Now, you were doing it for both of you. And the baby thrived.

An ultra-sound confirmed you were having a girl around Valentine’s Day when you were two months along.

The special cake with pink icing in the center was a cause for celebration. Thank you for saving us a slice when you came out in your pink dress to tell us the news.

Her crib was purchased in early March just before the pandemic shut the city down for months. Great timing.

You were such resilient parents-to-be all spring and summer. Never complaining about your circumstances and always being extra cautious.

COVID forced you to celebrate your pregnancy privately, without fanfare, but that suits your style.

Only able to leave your home for walks and doctor’s appointments, your hair grew along with your belly.

And now your precious Veda is in our world.

You are a calm, relaxed and most loving mommy.

Veda loves sleeping next to your skin, feeling your touch and hearing your voice. After all, you spoke and sang to her for nine months.

When I see my daughter with her own daughter, my heart is filled with pure bliss.

I know it wasn’t easy for you, Lena.

But you and Brian persevered and never gave up hope.

Your story had a happy ending.

A beautiful ending.

A miracle baby.

Our Veda.

You deserve this.

I love you so much,

Marme