The Icebreaker!
Today, I gave my first speech at my local Toastmasters International club. My job involves speech writing, so I joined Toastmasters to learn some tricks of the trade. I was nervous about giving this speech. I'm so glad I did it! Turns our I had no reason to be nervous at all. The evaluator had this to say about my speech:
"Man, this speach (sic) was written well! You exhibit little if no nervousness (maybe except with hands). Powerful voice and clear. Good use of vivid imagery but perhaps delivered a little fast. Hands clasp/behind back, leaning on lecturn (sic). Too many good words to keep up with 'flush, gummy' Writer! Ah, see it now!"
Anyway, here's the text of the speech.
Grackle's Toastmaster icebreaker
In case it is not obvious from my accent, I am originally from Chicago, Illinois.
Chicago is as a bustling city of commerce, a city of great artists and architecture, the place that produced Da Bears and Da Bulls, great Democratic politicians like Richard M Daley and gangsters like Al Capone.
You can travel the world over, mention you’re from Chicago, and the first thing people will do is start shooting you with an air machine gun!
Chicago has been called the Second City. The Windy City. The City of Big Shoulders, Hog butcher to the world.
But for me, Chicago will always be a really cold place where one can get a really great hot meal.
It is a wonderfully diverse big city, a sprawling town of neighborhoods whose international immigrants have hailed from Ireland, Germany, Puerto Rico, India, Jamaica, Mexico, Poland, to name a few…as well as in-country emigrations from places like Mississippi, Tennessee, Alabama, Missouri, and well, you get the picture.
In practical terms, what this meant for me as a girl growing up in Chicago was that I had early exposure to the finest cuisines and delicacies in the world. Including Chicago-style pizza, Memphis barbecue, chitlins, pork chop sandwiches, bratwurst and sauerkraut, chorizo, corned beef and cabbage, beef patties, chicken flautas and sesame chicken.
Some of my fondest memories were of holiday meals at my grandmother’s house. Collard greens with salt pork for flavor. Candied yams dripping with butter and carmelized brown sugar. Black eyed peas for New Year’s Day. Ham on Easter, dotted with whole cloves, dripping with brown sugar. Turkey on Thanksgiving, stuffed with corn bread dressing.
Cakes. Banana. Chocolate. Dense pound cake that was so rich it made you ill to have more than one slice. And the pies! Sweet potato (never pumpkin)! Custard pie. Apple pie. My grandmother had 11 children, and she would routinely make 15 or 20 pies for holiday celebrations.
As a school girl, I would ditch campus lunch fare with my friends, in favor of the neighborhood rib joint, Rib N Bibs. If I was flush with lunch money, I could have an order of pork rib tips on a slice of gummy white bread for lunch. If not, an order of fries drenched in barbecue sauce.
I went to Northwestern University in Evanston Illinois, immediately north of the City of Chicago proper. I graduated from Northwestern with a journalism degree, but instead of becoming a writer or editor, I went on to a career in public relations.
My first public relations jobs involved writing and editing press releases, pitching stories to the media, organizing publicity events, working with clients to achieve their visibility goals. And most importantly: going out to lunch.
PR people go out to lunch a lot. Agencies in Chicago are often located downtown or in the River North area, home to many great restaurants. If you were taking a client to lunch or even better—a member of the media—the whole city was your platter. The proximity of Greek Town, Chicago’s three or four versions of Little Italy, Chinatown, steak houses, and upscale fusion eateries was great for client relations, not so great for the waistline.
Later I moved on to corporate events planning and community outreach, which allowed me to sample foods in the best hotel restaurants in the city, as well as dine at the greatest authentic neighborhood restaurants you can imagine. Everything from Italian ala carte, to hole in the wall diners, to deep-dish pizza, to Mexican restaurants with $3.99 lunch specials. It was totally awesome!
Late in 2001, on the heels of the tech bubble and as a layoff victim, I moved to Texas to accept a marketing position with a small software company. I learned that the most consistently good pizza to be had in Dallas apparently comes from Pizza Hut.
Every other restaurant is Tex-Mex or beef barbecue, which definitely took some getting used to. Gyros don’t come on cones here!
What do I miss most about Chicago?
I would have to say, Memphis barbecue, good pizza, and “pop” instead of “soda.” Great Italian food. Great hole in the wall diners and Big Ma’s cooking.
On the other hand, Dallas has the chain restaurant concept down to a science—never have I had better IHOP or Corner Bakery experiences than in Dallas. The Capital Grille is fantastic for delicious, gut-busting portions. Truluck’s has fantastic desserts! And the competitive glut of Tex-Mex and barbecue joints has produced the finest brisket I have ever tasted, and the crispiest chicken flautas in the Western Hemisphere.
So while there is a lot I still miss about Chicago—not the least of which is the food—I would have to say that my heart and stomach are thoroughly Texan now.
"Man, this speach (sic) was written well! You exhibit little if no nervousness (maybe except with hands). Powerful voice and clear. Good use of vivid imagery but perhaps delivered a little fast. Hands clasp/behind back, leaning on lecturn (sic). Too many good words to keep up with 'flush, gummy' Writer! Ah, see it now!"
Anyway, here's the text of the speech.
Grackle's Toastmaster icebreaker
In case it is not obvious from my accent, I am originally from Chicago, Illinois.
Chicago is as a bustling city of commerce, a city of great artists and architecture, the place that produced Da Bears and Da Bulls, great Democratic politicians like Richard M Daley and gangsters like Al Capone.
You can travel the world over, mention you’re from Chicago, and the first thing people will do is start shooting you with an air machine gun!
Chicago has been called the Second City. The Windy City. The City of Big Shoulders, Hog butcher to the world.
But for me, Chicago will always be a really cold place where one can get a really great hot meal.
It is a wonderfully diverse big city, a sprawling town of neighborhoods whose international immigrants have hailed from Ireland, Germany, Puerto Rico, India, Jamaica, Mexico, Poland, to name a few…as well as in-country emigrations from places like Mississippi, Tennessee, Alabama, Missouri, and well, you get the picture.
In practical terms, what this meant for me as a girl growing up in Chicago was that I had early exposure to the finest cuisines and delicacies in the world. Including Chicago-style pizza, Memphis barbecue, chitlins, pork chop sandwiches, bratwurst and sauerkraut, chorizo, corned beef and cabbage, beef patties, chicken flautas and sesame chicken.
Some of my fondest memories were of holiday meals at my grandmother’s house. Collard greens with salt pork for flavor. Candied yams dripping with butter and carmelized brown sugar. Black eyed peas for New Year’s Day. Ham on Easter, dotted with whole cloves, dripping with brown sugar. Turkey on Thanksgiving, stuffed with corn bread dressing.
Cakes. Banana. Chocolate. Dense pound cake that was so rich it made you ill to have more than one slice. And the pies! Sweet potato (never pumpkin)! Custard pie. Apple pie. My grandmother had 11 children, and she would routinely make 15 or 20 pies for holiday celebrations.
As a school girl, I would ditch campus lunch fare with my friends, in favor of the neighborhood rib joint, Rib N Bibs. If I was flush with lunch money, I could have an order of pork rib tips on a slice of gummy white bread for lunch. If not, an order of fries drenched in barbecue sauce.
I went to Northwestern University in Evanston Illinois, immediately north of the City of Chicago proper. I graduated from Northwestern with a journalism degree, but instead of becoming a writer or editor, I went on to a career in public relations.
My first public relations jobs involved writing and editing press releases, pitching stories to the media, organizing publicity events, working with clients to achieve their visibility goals. And most importantly: going out to lunch.
PR people go out to lunch a lot. Agencies in Chicago are often located downtown or in the River North area, home to many great restaurants. If you were taking a client to lunch or even better—a member of the media—the whole city was your platter. The proximity of Greek Town, Chicago’s three or four versions of Little Italy, Chinatown, steak houses, and upscale fusion eateries was great for client relations, not so great for the waistline.
Later I moved on to corporate events planning and community outreach, which allowed me to sample foods in the best hotel restaurants in the city, as well as dine at the greatest authentic neighborhood restaurants you can imagine. Everything from Italian ala carte, to hole in the wall diners, to deep-dish pizza, to Mexican restaurants with $3.99 lunch specials. It was totally awesome!
Late in 2001, on the heels of the tech bubble and as a layoff victim, I moved to Texas to accept a marketing position with a small software company. I learned that the most consistently good pizza to be had in Dallas apparently comes from Pizza Hut.
Every other restaurant is Tex-Mex or beef barbecue, which definitely took some getting used to. Gyros don’t come on cones here!
What do I miss most about Chicago?
I would have to say, Memphis barbecue, good pizza, and “pop” instead of “soda.” Great Italian food. Great hole in the wall diners and Big Ma’s cooking.
On the other hand, Dallas has the chain restaurant concept down to a science—never have I had better IHOP or Corner Bakery experiences than in Dallas. The Capital Grille is fantastic for delicious, gut-busting portions. Truluck’s has fantastic desserts! And the competitive glut of Tex-Mex and barbecue joints has produced the finest brisket I have ever tasted, and the crispiest chicken flautas in the Western Hemisphere.
So while there is a lot I still miss about Chicago—not the least of which is the food—I would have to say that my heart and stomach are thoroughly Texan now.
posted by Erin at
2:49 PM
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