First Blood - Macy’s Under the Clock - High Noon
Christmas marketing season begins after Halloween in Chicago’s Loop. On November 13th this meant a heavy police presence on State Street. I intended to set-up there to sell Art Patch Project screen prints to test the Chicago peddlers license law. For a month I have attempted without luck to get arrested or ticketed for selling art in public without a license.
What others would call bad luck, is my lucky day. This Friday the 13th I hoped for some good luck in the form of bad luck. I hoped to get busted. My location was under the clock at Randolph and State Street in the vicinity of Macy’s front door.
Before getting started I used the restroom in Macy’s basement. Accept it - you do not want to get caught locked in a paddy wagon in need of a urinal. Now I was ready. I emerged from Macy’s to find my three friends waiting. Nancy was my video artist and the two artist photographers were Ron and Hermann.
I went right to work. Unfolding my red poncho, I ducked into it and emerged the “Art-for-Sale Man.” I waved my poncho wings and barked, “Art for sale!” This caught people’s eyes and ears. I continued, “One dozen local artists, Robert Wapahi, Monica Brown, Chris Drew and many more – Art for sale. One dollar…” Who could easily ignore me? I bounced up and down as I chanted or leaned into people to share my images without blocking their forward motions. My twirls and poses played with the traffic for maximum exposure and minimum interference with those walking by. I looked for eye contact.

Buy local Chicago artists work, Monica Brown, Robert Wapahi, Marcellous Lovelace, ... (photo by Ron Grenko)
It took only twenty minutes before I was approached by a female officer. “You can’t sell here” she said with a wave of her hand as if to say “be gone.”
“Yes, I can. I have a First Amendment right to sell art in public.” I responded. In a flash she was joined by a second female officer.
“You can’t sell – you can give it away for donations but it is prohibited to sell anything downtown here.” the second officer chimed in. I held to my claim that is was my First Amendment right to sell. In a moment two more female officers came over to join our discussion. I pondered how likely it is that four officers, all female, could meet up at once on State Street by chance. They began to grill me.
I was not going to budge. “You have the right to speak but not to sell.” an officer insisted.
“First Amendment case law says there is no difference between giving my speech away and selling it. Art is speech so that means I have the right to sell my art or give it away,” I maintained.
“Write him a ticket.” the senior officer said to the officer on her right. “Do you have an ID?” She asked me. I pulled my drivers license from my wallet.
Nancy moved in to get the conversation and the officer nearest her scowled at her ordering her to back away. Obviously, the extreme nature of my crime called for crowd control or is it that we are discouraged from documenting our police at work? Nancy stepped back. “You are permitted to video public servants while they are on duty in public.” I said loud enough for the officer and Nancy to hear. Nancy continued to record the event. Her friends were shooting photos documenting the actions of the police, as well.
As the officer wrote my ticket, one of her colleagues tried again to reason with me explaining how easy it was to avoid trouble by simply asking for donations. “Just don’t put a price on your art.” she advised. “It really is nice work.” she said adding flattery to logic. “Yes, it is.” the officer next to her added timidly. She had nothing else to do. How many officers does it take to write one man a ticket for selling art in public? Four in Chicago.
“Thank you.” I returned.
Funny how a law the City claims was written to prevent me from blocking traffic when I sell art becomes suddenly unnecessary when I am giving the art away. Either way I block the same amount of traffic. The officer sounded like she was very concerned and wanted to help me avoid trouble. “Mayor Daley just wants to keep the streets clear so people can walk safely.” she added. I should have asked her if I took up less space when I gave the art away than when I sell the art. I should also have been shooting photos of my own.
The First Amendment case law only allows the City to write a law limiting our speech if the City can cite a “compelling” need of society. When the City has gone to court for a challenge to the peddlers license it cites traffic control as the compelling need. That is never why the laws in Chicago that prevent us from selling our art are written. They are written to keep artists out of commercial districts where real estate and business interests do not want competition and distraction from their presence on the streets around their concerns. Politicians also appreciate these laws because they prevent activists and artists critical of their governance from making a living reaching a wide audience in high traffic areas. Neither of these real reasons hold water in court so traffic is the best argument the City can come up with when they censor their citizens.
It took four officers to protect your right to walk down the street by writing me a ticket. If they were really concerned about your right to walk down the street, not to mention the use of your tax dollars, they could have sent just one officer. It was, apparently, more important to make my activity look like a vile violation requiring overwhelming force. When the lady writing the ticket hesitated about what to charge me with her superior coached her to use the prohibited district of the peddlers license for the cause. My heart soured. They got the charge just right. “Great!” I thought. Our next step is Federal Court.
Another officer explained again that if I had only avoided asking for a dollar but invited donations this would not be happening to me. “Really, you are free to ask for donations but not to set a price on your art.”
The senior officer addressed me sternly. She insisted I answer that I understood that I was banned from selling on State Street by law. Once I answered that I understood the law, she insisted that I answer if I also understood that I would be arrested if I continued to sell on State Street. I admitted that I understood I would be arrested if I continued to sell here. Satisfied she handed me my ticket and all the officers wandered off to other very important duties elsewhere. I tucked the ticket into a safe pocket as if it were a hundred dollar bill – happy to have it in my possession.
“Are you going to continue.” Nancy asked. I nodded with a smile.
“Art for Sale” I barked as if nothing had happened. “Local artists – Marcellous Lovelace, Jon Wendling, Monica Brown, Pascha and many more…” I continued with my heart beating fast from adrenaline induced by the knowledge of my impending arrest.
Yes, I did consider that the ticket I just received was all I needed to proceed legally in Federal court but I wanted to force the City’s hand in a dramatic manner. This ticket did not do it for me. The public must know how fully I believe in their speech rights.
This same public for the most part passed by with glazed gazes marching with tunnel vision to assorted purposes while I barked out my invitation to break out of their routine and glance at some local artists’ work. The few who did were reassuring to my spirit. Chicago does not have a culture of art on the street anymore after over a decade of prohibition on art sales in the Loop and other viable locations citywide.
People often equate someone selling art as involved in a criminal activity because the police treat us as such. This has a great chilling affect on the public’s willingness to relate to an artist on the street in Chicago which is a direct result of the enforcement of unconstitutional laws. Naturally, the laws and the public’s response to artists, both contribute to discouraging artists from trying to reach the public directly with their art by selling it in the public way. Only a tiny minority of artists can afford the expensive fees of art fairs and still make a profit. In Chicago the vast majority of artists are not ever seen in public.
Youth are the most likely to stop and look at our art patches. Two ladies who knew me stopped to look. “Aren’t you the artists who screen prints at the Crossroad Fund’s annual fund-raiser and gives his art away?” one of the pair asked. I stopped selling and talked with them for a moment. They each bought an art patch for a dollar.

They told me asking for donations is legal but putting a price on my art is illegal (photo by Ron Grenko)
Once, when I knelt down to retie my shoe, a humble-elderly man wearing old beat-up cloths and smelling of life lived alone came over looking down at me in my eye. I saw his downward questioning gaze move quickly to the art on my poncho. As I stood - I rose slowly, carefully, so his study of the patch art would not be disrupted. His eyes stayed on the art displayed in clear plastic sandwich bags pinned to my poncho by safety pins. He looked me over thoroughly, bought five art patches and left with a final handshake performed only with our eyes as he turned to leave. He sauntered off on his way to experience the Holiday Season seemingly searching for “real” experiences - humbly, observant, and reverent - in this sea of commercialism. “Who is this man?” I wondered.
A patty wagon pulled up behind me on State Street and double parked. Nancy warned me to be ready. I smiled hoping to make a sale to encourage the police to act. Twenty minutes later they drove off. “Ron was getting great photos from the beginning,” I imagined – assuming – without knowing – because the subject matter was so great. This is Americana for real! Hey – it’s cultural history as well. Hermann was backing us all up with his camera. It occurred to me that this story is being told by four different artists. That’s deep.
The paddy wagon reappeared facing us on State Street between north and south bound traffic parked on the yellow cross-hatched center lane poised to enter the left turn lane to arc smoothly toward the southeast corner of Randolph and State Street. They could turn left in a moment and load me at the corner in an eye-blink. One moment you would see me. You turn around for 30 seconds and look back, I would be cuffed and gone. Beamed-up gone.
Nancy warned me to be ready again. I told her, “I’ve been ready.” I’ve been ready for three years now. When are others going to be ready? – is the question I want to ask Chicago. When do you want to be ready to step toward real world class cultural standing and allow your artists their First Amendment right of full free speech in public? When are you going to be ready to receive the full benefits of a robust artist community in Chicago because Chicago supports its artists from the street up and not just from the multi-million dollar arts establishment up. Fighting for freedom is necessary. Freedom is the key to respect.
Hermann pointed out, there was a uniformed male officer standing on the other side of the crosswalk. The light turned green for him and he remained standing as the public eddied around him to cross toward us. “Move closer to the corner under the clock, “ Hermann urged me. I did. This put me within arms reach of an activated patty wagon.

This is our ticket into Federal Court. It is proof our rights have been violated. (photo by Ron Grenko)
A strange man standing on the corner in the cross walk by the uniformed officer was seen taking my picture. Ironically, at the same time, tourists were taking my picture while standing directly in front of me. Life has its pleasures. I laughed for the tourists and for the irony.
The officer across the street in the crosswalk was joined by second uniformed officer riding a segway. They stood that way, side-by-side conversing comfortable on the corner with foot traffic parting to pass them on either side. Light, after light, after light - the lights changed as they stood at ease, waiting…. They didn’t seem to be concerned about their affect on foot traffic. Just after the man who bought five patches walked off, the officer on the segway rolled across the light heading straight for me. “Here it comes,” Hermann counseled me. I continued barking “art-for-sale.” He rolled directly past me as I continued, “Local artists, one dozen local artists, artists for art and artists for you, art for sale, one dollar….” He rolled on.
Sometime well after one o’clock the paddy wagon turned at a green light and drove away. The officer across in the crossing at NE corner on Randolph disappeared.
Then, as if on cue, the puppet bike arrived. Oh yeah – the party was on now! The man peddling the puppet bike parked 20 feet south from me. He leapt off the bike which had attached a tall box painted happily with puppets pictured and with trap doors on the audience side where the puppets danced. He set the two feet – left and right – to keep the contraption from tipping over. He stuck his head into the box through an opening on the bike side and spoke shortly to someone else inside the box – the puppeteer about to make the puppets come to life. The carnival was on, buddy! The blues started to play. The puppets began their dance for dollars. The man who peddled the bike into place stepped back and studied the scene. Then, he turned to me and bought an art patch before walking off to find a subway sandwich.
I told Ron, “I love working next to the puppet bike.” I worked next to it at the Merchandise Mart during Artropolis several years. I worked next to it earlier this year when Oprah did her shows annual awards ceremony in public on Michigan Avenue. I was giving the art away that day and the police still ran me off. Not today. Finally, I am standing my ground. For years the police have run me off of spots or hassled me for selling or even giving art away. Today the running from unjust laws is over.
I began to dance to the blues music coming from the puppet bike. They attracted a small crowd of women and children, couples, and tourists – the curious. Giggles and laughter bubbled up from those viewing the puppets begging shamelessly for dollars while dancing to the up-beat blues tunes playing.
The mood was infectious. This is what I mean about an art scene. Multiply this times 3-4 times and 5-10 artists can make an instant tourist attraction based on First Amendment protected activities. Its our right and our duty to make Chicago friendly to artists and to its visitor who are looking to find the character of Chicago. It is our right to be paid for our speech. This is how Shakespeare got started.
A law that says I have to donate my speech instead of being able to put a price on it is an obvious violation of my right because it robs me of being able to make a living by my art – my speech. I have to quit my art and get a job. Then my art is limited severely. The police explained my predicament very well. “You can accept donations” they urged me knowing how impractical that is. The broadly written prohibited districts of the peddlers license leave this as our most practical of very limited alternatives – to give our art away for donations. This is how the City of Chicago encourages its artists. This is our “ample alternative” the City offers us after saddling us with the prior restraint of a peddlers license. They offer us the right to beg.
The puppets tease the money away from the public with laughter and song. Watching the public having fun I remember to always be eager to explain the details of First Amendment case law for those new to it at every opportunity. Whenever the government, Federal, state or city hall, passes a law that limits First Amendment rights (speech rights) there must be a compelling reason, then they must write a narrow law like “no selling 20 feet from a crosswalk or ten feet from a doorway”. Broad laws like “No selling anywhere in the Loop” are prohibited. Finally, if a narrow law is written for a good reason that limits the time, place or manner of speech the government must make available an “ample alternative” - one that is viewed from the speakers perspective as suitable for the speakers use.

Showing and selling in a festive mood bathed in the blues music of the puppet bike. (photo by Ron Grenko)
That is the state of modern First Amendment case law regarding speech that I’ve read. It is my studied opinion but I am not a lawyer and any legal advice I give is only my personal perspective on the issues. Your opinion is more important than mine. That is why I’ve included links to my sources so you can read the cases and make judgments of your own.
We were jamming now. Mothers were giving their toddlers dollars to feed the puppets. The puppets were dancing, snatching people’s dollars. Kids came away squealing, little fists pressed to their mouths, giggling. I was dancing and selling at patches. The paddy wagon was gone. We almost felt free.
At 2:30 we agreed that the Chicago Police were not going to arrest me today. I pulled the poncho off and we went to lunch. We were tired. It’s fun but it’s still work – work that must be done.















