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My father hopped out of the rig, disregarding whatever I had to do and approached the two story white framed building with a pike pole. He’s an old timer now and shouldn’t be responsible of holding the water line. I don’t blame whoever was in charge of him. A fire scene isn’t like a movie. There is no loud music or crazy stunts. It’s a rather quiet sound with the sound of crackling wood and some water blasts hitting the walls. Every so often there will be a loud bang from somebody pulling a piece of ceiling down but for the most part, it’s a bunch of guys standing around a house looking up at it. The heat from the fire alone was warming my face like a blow drier even though I was sitting in the street, not to mention it ninety something degrees outside. I was sweating in my oversized turnout gear like a linebacker on the Atlanta Falcons and I wasn’t even doing anything. I was standing by the truck like a good little boy and I couldn’t wait to one day be doing the same thing as the rest of them.

The first time I woke up with a werewolf in my room I was five years old. I climbed out of bed and i was awfully polite and nice to Werewolf Jimmy until he began to holler at me for using manners in his presence. I became scared so I ran to my grandmother, out of my room, down the staircase knocking down every picture frame on the way down until I forgot how to run. I could hear Jimmy tailing me down the stairs with his hook-like claws scraping the hardwood staircase one step at a time. I turned around to defend my young self since my sense of fleet had diminished and Jimmy the werewolf had vanished. I crawled to the living in dying fear for my grandmother who had posted on the couch for the night, until the blankets away from the bodily figure only to find Jimmy the Werewolf as he lunged at me. I woke up immediately in a panicky sweat only to realize I had just experienced my first nightmare :)

I have a couple of homes that have shaped my childhood. My "old house" which is four blocks away from my current home in Chicago on 104th and Avers, and my lake house in Cassapolis Michigan. I moved out of my old house when i was five years old because my dad was dying for a bigger home but we couldn't add an addition to the house because of the location and my mom wanted us kids to have a bigger backyard before she passed away. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when I lived in my old house and passed nine years ago today on January 19th 2003. She also pushed for my dad to buy a lake house for us because she was a saint and knew we would love it. So despite the memorable times we had in our old house we moved into a great house where I still reside and we bought a lake house on Diamond lake, my favorite lake I have ever. Since then, my brother sister and I have had the time of our lives and I can't wait to grow up, have a family of my own and raise them even better than I was raised :)

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti monster, or "Pastafarianism" is a real theory/religion that was created by some clever college student in 2005. I do not know too much about this idea but this student decided, "why not create a bizarre religion since all religions are unfalsifiable". Don't get me wrong, writing about spiritual views is not my cup of tea, but I appreciate the students witty antics of making a mockery out of everything holy "literally". I'm no religion hater either. I'm Irish Catholic living in an Irish Catholic neighborhood on the south side of chicago and proud of my background and I love the parish i'm from. Now that I think about my religion, a stereotypical God looking man with a white beard and bulky forearms living up in the clouds is not any more believable than a food monster. You should Wikipedia this spaghetti man nonsense, I heard about it a couple years ago from a friend it's a pretty good story to tell.

My name is Tim Kramer and one of my main goals in life is to be a Chicago fireman. I'm pushing six feet tall and four inches shorter than my 21 year older brother Tom so that kinda blows. Tom tested onto the Chicago fire department over this last summer and scored high enough to be chosen to work within this next year. Our father is a fireman. It sounds selfish but i was forced into going to college here. I chose western michigan because lots of my friends go here not because I was looking for the best school possible with my degree. I never had another career path in mind ever since I can remember which lead me to change my major twice and I just started my second semester. I've suddenly realized I've gone way too far on my introduction. Let's rap things up. I'm in pre nursing now because a hospital is the closest thing i can get to the fire department. I like western michigan. I like fishing. I like poker and gambling all of my money out of my pocket. I'm bad with investments and video games. I've never met a better cook. I can make Sinatra look like a chump. I quit playing golf for my high school because my coach Stan Kastelic was a pushover. I hate you Stan and i hope you see this. I picked up playing rugby, tore my ACL, never played sports since. :)

http://chicago.grubstreet.com/
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Here's a link to some of the worst food in chicago. Don't click on it, don't read it, forget about it. Chicago is known for good food so fancy executive chefs from across the country move to the city and open up some dumpy four or five star restaurant that will charge you $100-$300 a couple. Big deal. It's a shame when i google chicago food blog I'm stuck with links with bloggers ranting about how awesome and mighty "Woodfire" and "Fogo De Chow" have become. Both of these restaurants will charge you individually $75 a pop for some weak food. I couldn't find any blogs with "Johnny's beef" "Al's beef" or  "Fat Johnny's". Those are three of the most well know hot dog stands throughout the city. A line out the door is what you expect when you head to any of these joints, unless you're at "Fat Johnnies" which is literally a shed with a window and a fat man behind that window that serves you the greatest sandwich known to man. $10 tops is what you will spend for the biggest meal for yourself all week. Chicagoans like myself are picky for their food and I can go on for days about this nonsense but stay away from the loop's so called "hot spots" if you don't want to burn a whole in your pocket for some dirt cheap worthy food.

I chose a laid back type of writing. Local newspaper journalists inspire me whether they're high school football journalists or food critics around my neighborhood. I want to get the word out there about what chicago food is really about. Hot dogs get boring sometimes but these are just basic examples of how we like to eat in my city. I could name breakfast  spots and the best seafood dives in town but I would be typing for days. My audience that would appreciate this the most would have too be tourists. Dark humor is involved and you can tell i don't like pricey restaurants