I heard a few cicadas during the day Saturday in Jefferson Park, so I walked out later that evening to see if I could record sounds from any. I thought I heard an especially noisy group over by the fieldhouse (above), but the sound turned out to be from a laboring air conditioner in a nearby apartment building. Only when I got home and checked online did I realize that cicadas are mostly nocturnal. It's katydids that sing at night.
I went back into the park on Sunday afternoon and managed to record some of the cicadas' mating calls. But the expected cacophony just wasn't there; maybe later this week as the park heats up with continued daytime highs in the upper 80s will coax more of this insectoid chorus to raise their voices in song.
Over at the CVS drugstore, one of the pharmacists who lives a couple of miles from here in Harwood Heights says cicadas have emerged in droves there. Here in Jefferson Park, I've only heard a few cicadas -- and haven't seen any at all.
One question that's puzzling me about cicadas is how to best describe their mating calls. These sounds, which are made only by the males, usually are characterized as an "electronic buzzing" or "electronic whine." Cicadas have been around a lot longer than electronic devices. If none of us had experienced an out-of-whack TV set or badly tuned radio, what would we say they sound like?
CICADA INFORMATION
ChicagoCicadas.com -- Great starting point for Chicago-area information on these bugs.
Chicago Cicada Central -- University of Illinois Extension offers great links to video and audio, as well as to media coverage of the brood.
UPDATE
I'm not hearing any more cicadas in Jefferson Park. At least here, the invasion's been a dud.
This time out, I join Leah and Dick as they take their cat, Maxwell Silver Hammer Smith, out for a treat at a frozen-custard joint in honor of his 20th birthday. (By the way, the oldest cat recorded by Guinness World Records was 38.)
To learn more about Max, visit his birthday website, where you can hear him howl, yowl, meow and purr. On the site, you can also read about Max's dietary regimen, which includes distilled water and concessions to his increasingly finicky concept of mealtime. At one time, he insisted upon being served Gerber baby food.
Leah, however, has an easy explanation for Max's behavior.
"For years, I've suspected that Max is an alien," she writes in 'Planet Catnip: My Life With an Alien Cat," a chapter in the just-published book "Cat Women: Female Writers on Their Feline Friends."
"I don't know what planet he beamed down from," Leah writes, "but he's definitely Out There. For one thing, he likes to follow us around the house, watching intently, as if he's taking mental notes on all our doings to report to someone later. I work at home, so his favorite observation spot during the day is my desk. When he's not staring unnervingly at my computer screen while I type, he's sitting on my papers -- he has a sixth sense of just which one I need at any time, and that suddenly becomes his favorite resting spot.
"But anyone could argue that those are 'normal' cat traits. The biggest hint I have that Max is not from this world is his abnormal reaction to catnip. Most cats, when exposed to this herb, become excited, euphorically sniffing, rolling around, shaking their heads, and rubbing against things. Even lions and tigers have this catnip response. Not Max...."
This week, several writers who contributed to "Cat Women" -- including Leah, Margaret Littman and Judy Sutton Taylor -- will read from the book at 7 p.m. Wednesday, June 20, at The Book Cellar, 4736 N. Lincoln Ave., in Chicago's Lincoln Square. We'll be there, so stop by and say hey!
It's not just a crepe, it's a meal -- and it's dessert, too! That's what I learned from Leah and Dick when we dined recently at Icosium Kafe in Andersonville. Almost as good as the crepes is the view out the cafe's windows, which give you front-row seats to Clark Street's widescreen-Technicolor parade. It's men with women, men with men, women with women -- and some folks just sit there and cross-pollinate.
Once we get rolling in the Mobile Recording Studio, we head south along Clark and pass by Lincoln Towing, which prompts Leah and Dick to talk about Steve Goodman's "Lincoln Park Pirates" -- Steve Jobs will sell it to you for 99 cents at the iTunes Store.
Leah also mentions that she's been playing a lot of old music lately. Here are some of the links she found for great sources of legal downloads of out-of-copyright music from Edison cylinders (that's Thomas Alva Edison at right) and 78 records:
"These are terrific compilations of early 20th-century popular music -- and provide a glimpse of the times," Leah says. She explains that it was common for a single song to be recorded by a large number of musicians. One example was "Yes! We Have No Bananas" (sheet music published in 1923, courtesy of UCLA's Digital Library Program).
Leah found that the song was also recorded in 1923 by Furman and Nash, William West, Bailey's Lucky Seven with Irving Kaufman, Ben Selvin and his Orchestra, Benny Krueger and his Orchestra, Vincent Lopez and his Hotel Pennsylvania Orchestra, The California Ramblers, Sam Lanin's Dance Ensemble, the Original Georgia Five and, undoubtedly, others, not to mention endless covers since. (She's especially fond of the version by the Muppets' Swedish Chef.)
By the way, according to the 1923 Chicago Tribune citation listed at the end of this page, the catchphrase "Yes! We have no bananas" originated here in Chicago in 1920.
And here's a possibly not relevant but nonetheless interesting article on why there really might be no bananas soon. It all has to do with how bananas reproduce. I mean, isn't it incredible that the banana hasn't had sex for thousands of years?
"Three Coins in the Fountain" was written for the film (and apparently sung by Frank Sinatra in the soundtrack, per Internet Movie Database), but popularized by the Four Aces.
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About Me
I'm Leigh Hanlon, a writer and photographer in Chicago. Before moving to the Windy City, I worked at daily and weekly newspapers in Arizona, Colorado and Wyoming. (Photo by Marty Larkin)
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