Michael Hinko Jr

 I'm scanning family photos from the 1950s and 1960s. It's fun to look back. It's also a keen look inside early 1960s middle class life. My family lived in Chicago's Roseland neighborhood. A lot of the homes were owned by guys working in heavy industry jobs; U.S. Steel South Works, Republic Steel, Sherwin Williams, many others. Union jobs that paid a wage allowing families to live in a middle class neighborhood. That all came to a screeching halt when heavy industry shut its doors, and the nearby neighborhoods fell apart. Horrible urban decay. A young activist named Barack Obama looked at the decline of Roseland and decided to do something about it. Roseland has come back around. Not completely, but Obama pointed people in the right direction. I still watch what's going on in Roseland, and wish them better days.

 October 17, 1983 I'm sitting atop a Buddhist temple built in 1218 AD. In front of me is the Irrawaddy River. And all around lies a sea of 11th Century temples; 250 temples and pagodas in a 46 square mile area - perhaps the most significant archaeological site in Southeast Asia (I have to interject the humorous comment from my travel companion, "This looks just like your apartment in Lincoln Park.") Inside these temples are massive figures of Buddha; some constructed of wood & gold leaf, others of stone, masonry, plaster. Also inside are fresco paintings depicting Buddha's life, and life in general.

Commentator Cokie Roberts talks about the history of generals in White House roles. I asked my question at the 2 minute 15 second point in the segment.

My sister reminded me of my friendship with the garbage man who came through our alley in Chicago once a week. This must have been before I started kindergarten, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to be out there each time the truck rolled by. I was fascinated by the way the truck's mechanism brought a huge metal blade down to scrape away the garbage, sending it to the interior of the truck. I got to know one of the crew members on the truck. He greeted me each week and talked with me while he dumped our garbage into the truck. One week I invited him to have dinner with our family. He accepted. I can't remember whether I first ran that by my mom. Anyway he came over. We had salmon patties. He was very well mannered, courteous and friendly. He belonged to a south side church, and he gave me a Christian friendship ring. It is inscribed, "Love One Another."

 Hog slaughtering day in the Lahu tribal village. The old man asks for a larger share of the hog meat. The tribal chief explains to the old man that he doesn't work as much as some of the younger members of the village, so he gets a smaller share of the meat.

  A hodge podge of photographs taken across several decades .

  Photographs of a 1983 trip to Southeast Asia .

  Portraits of Donna Michels

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  It's no secret to those who know me; I hate shopping. I'll put off a trip to the store for as long as possible, and beyond. But yesterday I buckled under the pressure of a household in short supply and a shopping list that was creeping toward the margins of the scrap of paper. I went to the store. Afterward I calmed myself with a walk around the neighborhood, including Monona Terrace. The weather forecast predicted rain. My hope was that it would hold off long enough to accommodate my outing. It did, and the skies offered me this beautiful sight. And now I don't have to shop for ... an extraordinarily long length of time.