Stuff happens in Chicago, when I am gone. For instance, I learned that new protection has been added to the Art Institute Lions, which are to me a symbol that never changes, stagnant but beautiful, that way. Greened metal, I never had the desire to touch them, with any vestige more invasive than my eyes. Still, apparently people were straddling them, and so now they have an alarm system built in. Roar it up lions, roar them off. (This is in no means a political statement, that family looks sweet, but they are not lions. Lions belong with lions, or the police will be called).
