Summer of 2019 is here, and in the Chi it’s been a wet one that can hardly break a vicious cycle of sunny and rainy.
Took a bit of a hiatus from this. I’m prepping for a move out of state. Soon I’ll be well on my way to North Carolina, a peculiar destination. The juxtaposition from Chitown to there is so self evident, like moving from an urban mecca to a farming community.
I remember visiting the few times I had, felt like I was being deprogrammed from a city boy into someone ‘nice’. Kind of like a CIA Assassin being deprogrammed and reintroduced into the general populace of sheep.
I’ll be leaving the city of my birth, the city I grew up in. I am very much a romantic at heart and a nostalgist, so I have a list fully prepared of things I would need to do to break up with this now corrupt, violent, horrible place.
A walk down Dover street, the street I grew up on in uptown. A place that burns in me, and I remind myself you’ll never step foot on this street again after this. The house I grew up in, in the middle of the block looms before me, strangers living in it. They recently wrote to my parents thanking them for having taken such great care of the place, and for all the beautiful modifications lavished on it. The soul of the family is this house. If I could move it brick for brick to NC I totally would. Next life might be kinder.
Have a hotdog at Byrons (or Budacki’s, whichever).
Must spend a few hours at 3rd coast cafe writing. It was my second address in my college heyday. I learned to write here, and I really did live there for the longest.
Hit the Art Institute, then Water Tower place, maybe a few other choice places.
I will go visit Montrose Harbor, then watch a show at The David theater perhaps. These are just places that I had residual history in. I will chronicle these in a series of blog posts I call ‘places’.
I feel a giddy anticipatory feeling wash over me. Could this really be the real deal?