This is a RSS file. Copy the URL into your aggregator of choice. If you don't know what this means and want to learn more, please see: http://platial.typepad.com/news/2006/04/really_simple_t.html for more info. http://platial.comhttp://platial.com/map/blogging-northwest-indiana-Engl-380-580/13153 This map will be the location for your class blogs on this place in which you currently live--northwest Indiana. The goal of the assignment is to pay attention, to write with significant details, and to learn to really see a place--through landscape, yes, but also through culture, people, geography, weather, food, rituals, behavior, architecture, etc. http://platial.com/post/995656
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]]> 2007-03-01 09:43:05.344081+00:00 http://platial.com/post/997489 solitude
distance
distant light
eight diagonal lines.
nothing horizontal.

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As I child, I had no say in the matter. Church was a sacred place by necessity; I was told it was, and as I child, you don't object. It was self-evident why the church was sacred - because it was God's house; it was a church, duh! There was even a point in my formative years, mostly as a teenager, when I actually felt the church as sacred. The eucharist, the pulpit, the cross - they meant something. I tried my best to entrust my soul to the Lord.

And then I grew up and realized the church, any church, is no different from my jackass friends who can't come up with something original.

Every week - they read from the same book; they tell them EXACT SAME STORIES. I'm totally bewildered how ministers have come up with original sermons for the last century. Christ, I mean the gospel is only 5 books. Worshippers sing the same songs out of the same book. Lutherans revere, and are named after, a man who wrote a book called "Discourse I Against the Jews," in which he outlines how much the Jews suck at life. How many times can one hear the story of Christ's birth? WE GET IT, OK? Church is repetition at it's best.

I used nostalgia in class the other day. It seems to me that church is the ultimate nostalgic trip - it pines for the days when things were better, when Jesus Christ was rockin' out with his cock out. Thing is: it wasn't that great back then. I don't mean this in a literal sense, of course.

I have a sense of appreciation for my religious upbringing. It taught me the values and morals which I like to think define me this very day. But at some point, you outgrow it. You see the hypocrisy; you see the parellels to your life; you recognize it as antiquity. You wish it well, and move on.

What a mindless rant. Bottom line: I'm proof that sacred is a fleeting concept. Believe it if you want, but I'll continue to think of it as nostalgia. And that's just fine with me, because you can indulge in whatever nostalgic memory you choose. You don't disrespect what other's consider sacred, church taught me that. But I can certainly think "sacred my ass" - one thing church never taught me.






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They see a man who has trouble controlling his carnal nature and a man who can't curb his addictive personality and automatically assume I troll the strip club circuit looking for drunken blowjobs. Think what you will, but it's simply not the case.

Not only do I find strip clubs demeaning, but they scare me. I'm not one to tell anybody how to earn a dollar - ideologically I have no problem with fucking a pole for a living, but what I can control is whether I go there or not. I choose the latter in most cases.

But there are those times when you're in a group, loaded past the point of reason, when somebody gets the idea drilled in their head that they want to pay to see tits bigger and better than their girlfriends'. Once the idea is verbalized you, as a part of the group, are past the point of no return.

One evening I found myself stuck in Lake Station avoiding the glances of the enterainment. I did what I always do: Hide behind a veil of chain-smoke and ethanol. 'Christ, here she comes,' I thought as a black dancer made her way over to our table, silver dollar nipples in tow.

It's a curious feeling when you're a virgin all over again. Except this time, instead of trying to avoid pumping gobs of man-gravy in my pants, I sucked hard on the ice left in my drink to avoid vomiting all over the poor girl. Frankly, I'm not sure which sensation is worse.

But as my friend saved the day by bargaining a handjob for himself, I glanced around the room and saw the clientel: An old man on oxygen burying his face in a dancer's chest, a beer-bellied trucker eyeing a barely legal teen, and a business man sizing up an older woman probably wondering to himself how much force it would take to knock her unconcious.

I walked to the bathroom on shaky legs. "Man up," I said aloud into the mirror. My face looked worn, like I had had one too many Sailor Jerry's - 'Man up,' I thought.

'Nah. Not here. Not now.'

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]]> 2007-02-02 12:44:24.052717+00:00 http://platial.com/post/943325 It is a place where new restaurants open and within days are closed and replaced by new ones. Movie stars and pop-singers perform weekly. A day at the spa is only a water-hose and sandbox away. And if one really wants a special treat, a nice blend of perfume can be made straight from the branches of a lilac bush. The process, quite simple: 1 part water-filled tin pots heated in the sun, 1 part Mom’s garden, and 2 parts ability to convince others of its wonderful scent.
A few blocks from this place from a store that sold all the essentials one needed in life. It was called “D & C”, a dime and cent candy store. A special item at the store was a foot-long, bright pink plastic piggy bank. It always stared at you with a huge grin plastered on its face until one day you can’t take it anymore. You buy it in excitement and then get home to realize that now you have no pennies to put in it. On other trips you may pick up a necklace or lipstick or cigarettes, the sugar variety only.
This place is quite wonderful, especially in the summer. You wake up to the sun shining brightly through the window-panes and the sounds of bouncing balls or jump-ropes hitting the pavement below. The breeze through the window screens brings laughter of children, the best alarm clock of all. You jump out of bed, throw on a zip-up one-piece outfit covered in tropical fruit shapes or ice cream cones, and are ready to start the day. Then you run downstairs to find a smiling face, a warm “good morning sleepy head”, and a piece of homemade cinnamon toast. There is an exchange of “I love you” and out you go. What shall you do? Probably get chased by a cop, hunt a ghost, go undercover to do a background check on the old lady on the corner; or if you’re feeling a little less adventurous you may settle for a relaxing mud bath.
This is a wonderful place. I will store it in my memory forever. It will always be a part of me wherever I go. All I have to do is pick up the phone and I can hear the old familiar laughter and feel the love I’d find at the bottom of the stairs on those adventurous summer days. Even now as I sit in Northwest Indiana, I have it with me.


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Sitting in my Compass Point apartment plain dull while living we bicker back and forth about where we will go and who will pay if it is somewhere expensive. It usually ends up around seven o’clock before we both finally agree on a place to eat that we both like.

Typically, at this point my roommate Susie will ask what we are doing for dinner and her boyfriend Will end up joining Danny and myself. Not to mention this usually changes our plans from a romantic dinner for two to a casual dinner for four at some chain restaurant here in Valparaiso. Don’t get me wrong, I love Susie and Will and would always want them to come along to dinner.

The four of us all pile into one of your compact cars and drive the 2.5 miles into the heart of Valparaiso. We turn into a parking lot where half of the parking if for downtown customers and the other half is just for Around the Clock customers. Even though we are not allow to park in the Around the Clock spots, nine times out of ten we do. (Nobody ever knows the difference.)

Susie and I will grab our purses from the car and Will and Danny get out of the front and lock up the car. We all run fast across Lincoln Way to the Buffalo Wild Wings. The restaurant is located inside of a building that contains a bunch of other stores including a hair cutter. Since this tends to be one of the hotter food eateries in town that is always a wait of at least thirty minutes. We put our name on the list. If it is not a typical Valparaiso night out, we usually will go stand outside of the restaurant and stand on the sidewalk. The two boys go off and joke about everything that they are looking at while Susie and I gossip about the new facts of our third roommate.

Then our name is called, Dana party of 4. We all run inside the building and meet up with the hostess as she takes our to a wooden booth that contains four menus, a drink list, some Buffalo Wild Wing costars, and usually some crumbs from the last table occupants. Danny and Will talk one of the booth while Susie and myself sit on the other.

We sit in our wooden booth that contains a picture of a buffalo carved into the sides quietly and read over the menu, while the people around us talk about their daily lives louder and louder because it seems that the music is getting louder and louder.

We all have decided what we want to order. I look under the table and see old fries, pieces of buns, and chicken bones under my feet. I all of a sudden start to wish I would have cooked at home, because at least there is no food remnants under it.

Will, “I will have 12 wings in sweet BBQ, buffalo wedges, and a side salad.”
Susie, “I will have 12 wings in Blazin, buffalo wedges and a coke.”
Danny, “I will also have 12 wings in BBQ, and a side salad with a water and lemon.”
Dana, “I will have 12 wings, 6 in honey BBQ, and 6 in Blazin, and an order of wedges.”

The order has been placed and we sit on the wood talking about the past week and what is come the next week. The smoke from the bar starts to roll over to where we are sitting and Susie’s eyes start to water from her allergies.

Our drinks are bought, and Danny finds a piece of lettuce floating on the top of his water. It is sent back for another, and the waitress become perturbed with us. I start to sit cold because of the draft that is coming in from the front window. I put on my black jacket.

After about forty-five more minutes of waiting our food finally arrives. It is placed in front of us. It doesn’t appear to be much food. I decide to use the restroom before eating. Susie gets up and moves out of the way. In the restroom is a group of four high school girls talking about the dates they are on, and how lame each of the guys is. I walk over to the facility one, and there is pee on the rim, then I move to facility two which looks as though it has never been flushed, and finally the third one appears to be ok. I wash my hands in the splashed and soaped up sinks before returning to the table.

Students are all over this place, and more and more seem to be coming in. The place is just increasing in noise and alcoholic drinks keep getting served more and more.

The four of us eat, and then ask for the check to be split into two: one for Danny and me, and the other for Susie and Will. Danny and my check is for $32.00. Now I really should have cooked at home. The food was not worth $32.00. We pay and live a tip for the grouchy waitress.

As we walk out our clothes smell of fried foods and smoke. We get into the car and drive back to Compass point. Another Saturday evening and another waste of money on a mediocre meal.


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I fucking hate Merillville. My spell check says I spelled it wrong, but even if I did, I don't give a shit - because it's Merillville. And I HATE spelling things incorrectly.

It's the ultimate symbol of American capitalism. It'd disgusting. How many chain restaurants can you count along U.S. 30 in Merillville? I'm skeptical if Merillville actually exists? Do people actually live there? If so, where? Do they sleep in the pay lockers at the mall? Do they cram into the Red Lobster bathroom and use each other as pillows.

I know, I know. I'm being ridiculous. I'm speaking with no authority. But how is it that they can cram so many places of business into one strip? Why do people go for that? What's the allure of corporate America ass-raping your town? The people probably get the benefits in the form of taxes, but Jesus - what an ugly place.

MArelvIlle - I did that out of pure spite.

It's just one more example of how we put capitalism on a pedestal.

I gotta cut this short - I have to go to Walmart.



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]]> 2007-03-01 21:06:45.646689+00:00 http://platial.com/post/997674
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]]> 2007-03-02 13:34:45.02299+00:00 http://platial.com/post/1130648
So you look out the window for relief, and see the vivid green grass of the Courthouse lawn. The building is the color of the sky—cold gray—with a tint of tan, but not enough warmth to contrast the enveloping green. The Court House is blackened toward the base, especially near the doors. There, the cement is the color of soot, like the trees dominating the lawn, bare, gnarled, and enormous. With intimidating breadth at the base, and the spindliest of inwardly curling branches higher up, those trees belong outside a haunted house, not the Courthouse. But perhaps you only think that because of the weather.

The wind is blowing viciously…you can tell from the tattered American flag on the 5/3 Bank across the street…but the tree twigs don’t budge. They’re perfectly frozen against the cold grey sky. Oh, there’s a spot of color in the lower-left corner of the Green Bar’s window. It’s an oddly inverted plaster bench, bolted the Courthouse sidewalk. Possibly reminiscent of Chicago’s bulls, but these signify that Valparaiso is the county seat, you suppose. There’s City Hall to the right, white as ice. Makes the sky look like melted butter.
In any case, this bench isn’t colorless. It’s painted with summer scenes. The purple-variegated windows of the VU chapel, blue Lake Michigan, a red fox, yellow popcorn, and an incongruous pair of pink shoes, center-bench. So obviously, there are better sights sometimes. And this gives you hope to abandon the Green Bar, heading into the cold, wind, and drizzle, looking for a better day.


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]]> 2007-04-03 15:51:13.653116+00:00 http://platial.com/post/1130696
With the courthouse planted in the middle of the square, it definitely fits in with the architecture of the town. Most of the windows on the courthouse and even capturing within the whole town are either rectangular shaped or have the rectangular with the circular top. I could definitely see these window shapes in other places around the square including people’s apartments on top of the stores which range from Jano Bike Shop to Old Style Inn for families to sit down and enjoy meals together or where people can buy special valuables by peeking into the windows of Martin Binder Jewelers. All of the stores mainly on the north part of the square have a different variety of color and style starting with a dark green sign for Engstrom Jewelers to the hot pink with Bangel’s Accessories, which is a clothing store for women.

The courthouse is planted directly in the middle of the square with some distinct features surrounding it. The first thing that stands out to me is the stone that makes up the foundation of the building. Above the main entrance, there are pretty bulky pillars, which kind of reminded me of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. Also, in the front of the building I see three flags (one is USA, one is Indiana, the other one is a black POW Mania). There is rectangular parking around the courthouse and have benches near the sidewalks incase people need to sit down and take a break. Two benches that stood out to me are in a swivel shape with different artistic designs. The one has blocks of different colors like yellow, pink and blue and has pictures of cell phones and CD’s. The other bench has a light blue background that illustrates different places and events that go on in town, it even has the chapel tower at Valparaiso University (which coincidence is where I go to school) also it has the ruby slippers connected with the Wizard of Oz Festival and also popcorn kernels with the Popcorn Festival, both held every September. Benches like these give a unique look to downtown Valparaiso. you’re coming out of any entrance of the courthouse, people can find walkways to lead you to all four corners of the square.

There are also lamp posts that exuberate some light on the night downtown scene. There are three different clocks that I noticed so I think from all corners of the square everybody can be updated on the time. Hopefully this makes people be attracted to come to downtown Valparaiso and see the interesting architecture and scenery.

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]]> 2007-03-29 21:52:19.417208+00:00 http://platial.com/post/1142196
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]]> 2007-04-03 19:49:36.361584+00:00 http://platial.com/post/1142361
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]]> 2007-04-03 21:15:53.988228+00:00