I was Johnny Do-Gooder tonight after dinner when I went outside to get my mail only to encounter my neighbor down the way throwing herself in vain against her apartment door. Now, I've met her before and she's not prone to acts of insanity, so I was a little confused until I noted the full laundry basket at her feet. Ah, ha. She looked up, called herself "bonehead", and then asked if I had the landlord's number. I did, and, as it was chilly outside, invited her in.

I let her use my phone to call the landlord, but to no avail. There was no answer and the voicemail system with the emergency number was not picking up. I asked if she had a spare set of keys she had maybe given to a friend and it turned out she had. But, she could not recall the friend's phone number, because, like so many of us this day and age, the number was stored in a cell phone. I asked if her friend had a land line as well as a cell and she said she thought so. We got the phone book down, but again, to no avail. Calling herself "bonehead" again she declared to me that the friend had recently gotten married and moved. Assuring her she was not a bonehead, that we all lock ourselves out of our apartment every once in a while, I told her we were not yet out of options.

As an emergency room chaplain last summer I spent a lot of time tracking people down. Unconscious patients would come in and I would have to find their next of kin or a friend or anyone who knew them sometimes, so I learned a few tricks of the trade on locating persons. I got online and began running some searches through Anywho. I tried the friend's maiden name, married name, husband's name, street name and came up empty. Not to worry - 411 might be able to assist. I called them and after running through some options with them finallly struck gold with husband's name and street name. My neighbor called, got in touch, and made arrangements for the friend to run up here from Andersonville with the keys.

The time was then 8:10pm. I looked at my neighbor and said, "Now that that's settled, I hope you don't mind but I have to turn on American Idol to see who is going home tonight."

"Oh my gosh, yes, please!" came the reply.

The friend arrived after Idol was over, all was well, and I settled down to watch a movie that almost made me physically ill. I got it cause it looked interesting and it took place just around the corner practically, in the film's namesake, Wicker Park. It was too weird for even me, and I hated it. It made me feel dirty and gross, and quite frankly, for lack of a better word, it gave me the heebie-geebies. Still, I give it two stars just for sticking with the complications of life and not simplifying things for the sake of the medium.

-R