The Great American City
It's Saturday night around midnight. My room is half in boxes and I just heard the roar of the El, probably the last train of the night, from the station a few blocks away.
This is the last Saturday night I'll spend in Chicago and I'd be lying if I claimed I wasn't pretty damn upset to leave this place. I've spent the last couple of weeks visiting the places (and chicas) I laid claim to while here; the ones of significant memories and of three pretty excellent years in this great American city.
Not to lull you to sleep with `Williams whimsical memory lane' blog, but, when I think about living in Chicago, I realize I was not born here and am not from here, but I'd be happy to grow old here. To me, this city embodies all that `America' has been erected to represent. From the towering monuments of corporations that make up the skyline (and of course a Trump tower), to the most pathetic project homes in the country, it encompasses the whitest of the white collars and the stankiest of the stank collars. It is, aside from New York, the American city that best represents the `melting pot' ideal of the country. I think the only type of person I haven't met here is an Antarctican.
Before I keep this up (because I could), I want to say: my best memories in Chicago were when the IC came through. New Years weekend, despite the infamous Japoneis Melee of 05-06, was about as good as it gets. I remember riding the train from Second City to my apartment and thinking how rad it was for my crew to sit through the cold and take the route I took about 109 times while I was here. Then there was Cubbies and Ditka with bachelor Bear, a sell out crowd to watch a Faust-Williams street fight, Lubahn verbally critiquing a movie with 45 minutes left in the film and a near miss on homosexuality with Weiss and our little harlot.
What I'm getting at is, despite all this Grade A city has to offer, it was when you all were here to experience it with me that I enjoyed it the most. SO, when you're on Expedia in two months and contemplating whether or not to hit `purchase' for a ticket to San Jose, Costa Rica, I urge you to come back and read this post. Then, to keep the tradition created here, I'll meet you at airport.
