The first trip I took in May was to Iowa, of all places. I landed at the minuscule Grand Rapids airport and tracked down the shuttle service I had booked to transport me to my hotel. The service turned out to be a very nice elderly man who sat behind a counter at the airport and kept his reservations alphabetized on index cards. Midway through the 20-mile drive to the hotel he commented, "It's a shame you're coming in at night because you're missing the sights." I wasn't too disappointed since I can only imagine he was referring to the roadside Denny's and, let's face it, if you've seen one you've seen them all.
The second trip was to Chicago, which was actually pretty exciting because I grew up just outside of the city and was able to work in some time to spend with my family and friends. I also got to stay in a hotel right downtown for free.
One thing I have discovered is that no matter where you are, everyone you meet will tell you how much they love Chicago. It may be the most universally beloved city in the world. And with good reason. It's a bustling metropolis with great restaurants, culture, sports, a shoreline and an effective public transportation system. It's what New York would be like if New York were clean and its people were friendly and it had a moderate cost of living and didn't smell like garbage. (So actually, I guess it's nothing like New York.)
Every time I'm in Chicago, I'm struck by what a beautiful city it is. On a bright and sunny day the Loop actually seems to sparkle. And everyone who lives there is like seven feet tall (it is the city of big shoulders after all) and loves to jog. They all seem so happy and robust it's enough to make you ill. While I was there I visited my friend who lives in the chic River North neighborhood. It's a former industrial area, and there's still a chocolate factory nearby that makes the entire neighborhood smell like chocolate chip cookies. How could anyone resist such a place?
The funny thing is that I have resisted it for many years now. I left when I was 18 and profoundly bored and desperate to get out of the Midwest and see what life was like in a different part of the country. I've always felt that my true home is among the neurotic and dispossessed, and I've never really looked back. But now, whenever I visit, I feel just the smallest tug pulling me homeward.
That feeling was especially acute when I arrived back in Los Angeles, where it's smoggy and ugly and every one's constantly bitter because their development deal fell through or they got turned away from Hyde last Saturday night. Why, I wonder, don't I flee this horrible place for the magical land of happy giants where it always smells like freshly baked cookies?
But then, of course, there is this.
And if I didn't live in Los Angeles, I would not have ended up sitting two rows in front of Screech from Saved By The Bell on the flight back. (He was sitting in coach...I guess being an early 90s TV actor turned home sex-video star doesn't pay like it used to).
And if that is not a sound argument for living in La-La Land then, my friends, I do not know what is.
6 comments:
I have never been to Chicago, sadly. Your description makes me want to hop on the next plane out for a visit though.
Seriously. Think about how peaceful the world could be if we ALL lived in spots that smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
I grew up in the farmlands of NJ (yes, they exist) and thought I'd never look back either...and while I DO still crave the city life there have been times recently when I go home and I'm not quite ready to head back to pounding the pavement when it's time to leave.
I like to tell myself that not being sure exactly where I should 'land' keeps life interesting.
That view almost cancels out the idea of having to sit near Screech. But not quite.
Wow, Screech! But hey-- Chicago has its celebrities, too. Just last week I saw Thabo Sefalosha at the Wild Hare. That's Thabo Sefalosha. Of the Chicago Bulls. The basketball team. Whatever, never mind.
That chocolate smell in River North does get a little burnt-smelling sometimes. Still, it beats the heck out of any smells you encounter in NYC.
Thabo Sefalosha is the best name I've ever heard.
And lord, I love Chicago. Just gets better every time I go back-- so much to do, and it just feels like home at the same time. But I'd really like to try out other parts of the country, particularly the west coast. The east, must like excess dairy, doesn't really agree with me.
Oh, and it goes without saying that I look forward to getting the h out of missouri and never looking back.
You're so right about Chicago. Nicole's never been which is unfortunate.
I'm sure I'll think of an excuse for us to go someday.
Good words.
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