My Kind of Town

Chicago is.

It's been a few years since I was there for work, and several more since I was there on vacation with my family.  This time it was a road trip destination with my brother after our Black Friday odyssey in Grove City, PA.  The drive between Grove City and Chicago is around 7 hours, but it wasn't as bad as it sounds.  Have you ever been to North East?  We passed it on our way through Pennsylvania.  What was confusing was that we were heading west at the time.  You know how there are occasionally interesting signs dotting the countryside?  Our favourite was the one that advertised "FIREWORKS, KARATE SUPPLIES, PEPPER SPRAY AND STUN GUNS!"  Yes, that is definitely one-stop shopping.  And what are karate supplies?  Nunchukus?  Throwing stars?  Oh wait, that's ninja supplies...

I have many good things to say about Chicago.  First up, their transit system.  So easy to use, so inexpensive, so interesting to be travelling high above the street, passing within a couple of feet of other people's windows.

Next, the architecture.  So fantastic, even I can appreciate it with little to no formal knowledge about it.

It was chilly and wet for most of the weekend, but we were able to fit in a lot of sights.  Our first night in town, we experienced deep dish pizza and then went up to the top of the John Hancock Center.  We also hit the Shedd Aquarium, the Field Museum, the Art Institute of Chicago and the Observation Deck of the Willis Tower.  Essentially, we took the Ferris Bueller tour.  My biggest "there it is!" moment was when we came out of the subway at Milwaukee and Grand and found ourselves in front of Emmits Pub (Ocean's Eleven!).

The trip was not uneventful.  On our way back to the hotel, we were going down the escalator from the subway platform when we heard a SLAM!  Then we saw a man rolling down the up escalator.  He was out cold but continued travelling past us, carried by the escalator.  The attendant in the booth took a look then went back to call for help.  In the time it took for us to call the hotel shuttle to pick us up, firefighters were already heading up to the platform to check him out, and then the cops and paramedics showed up within minutes afterwards.  Good response time.

While I was taking photos at "The Bean", a woman offered me $20 for my umbrella.  I turned it down, and then she offered me $40.  My brother wanted to give it to her, but I still said no for two reasons: 1) it wasn't my umbrella, and 2) the moment I gave it to her, I was sure it was going to start pouring, and then I'd be the idiot stuck looking for an umbrella.  My brother said we could buy a pretty nice umbrella for $40, and I said if there was an umbrella to be sold anywhere near us, the woman wouldn't be in this predicament.  This is the price you pay for poor planning.

We didn't get to see everything, like Navy Pier or Wrigley Field, but as always I save a little something for next time.

"And each time I leave, Chicago is tugging my sleeve"

My Number

Today is November 11, 2011.  Essentially, 11-11-11.  It's not quite 11:00 yet, but I think there's no need for that.

I've always considered 11 to be my number.  I was born on the 11th, I lived at number 11, etc.  But I don't know if I could call it my lucky number.  I remember being kind of miserable when I was 11 years old.  Things didn't really turn around for me until I passed my 11th year.  I changed schools, I found my life-long friends, and I started to search for my happiness.  It hasn't been all smiles and sunshine since then, but I've tried to make the best of what I was given.

I guess luck is just another way of defining fate.  Not that it's predetermined, but that it's based on every decision made by you and every other person on Earth.  And it depends on how you interpret it.

Let's face it, when your number is up, will you be able to look back and consider yourself lucky?

"If I sorted it out, if I knew all about this one thing, wouldn't that be something?"

Pockets of Life

My condo development consists of five towers, two of which are within view of my windows.  This of course leads to a tendency for me to look out and see what my neighbours are up to.  It becomes more prevalent at night, when the lights are on.  One night, I looked across to one of the towers and saw that three families were at home, going about their business at the same time.  These three units were stacked one above the other, which was interesting because although the floor plan was exactly the same, they were very different in terms of what colours they chose for their floors, what style of couch they decided to purchase, and where they decided to put their lamps and tables.  They were like little bubbles or pockets of life, happening simultaneously, each the same but different.  It made me think of what other pockets of life were happening now, above me or below me, or all around the world.

The past couple of weeks have made me think about life a lot.  I guess that always happens when a life ends.  My very good friend lost her father to a long struggle against cancer.  After an attempt at treatment, it was determined that there was nothing that could be done.  We waited for the news, and though I had a miniscule amount of hope after weeks and months had passed with no further deterioration, we all knew it was inevitable.  She's the first of my close friends to lose a parent.  Another reminder that time marches on.

This week, I received the news that my family's neighbour passed away.  She and her husband had been our next-door neighbour for my entire life.  A nice elderly couple who invited us over to use their pool on hot summer days, and to pick raspberries when they had an abundant crop.  I had seen them less often after I moved out on my own, but the couple of times I saw them in their front yard, I noticed how much older they looked.  She had been handing out candy with her daughter on Halloween.  She went to bed that night with her husband.  Early in the morning, she went to the washroom, came back to the bed, and fell over.  She was almost 87 years old, and on the verge of becoming a great-grandmother.  With my parents and youngest brother on the other side of the world, my other brother and I went to the visitation to represent our family.  She had lived a long and interesting life, another unique pocket in the world.

Wherever you are, I hope you're doing well in your pocket of life.

"And death is at your doorstep, and it will steal your innocence, but it will not steal your substance"