Chicago

Sean and I just got back from our trip to Chicago on Sunday, and I am actually at a blogging conference today, so what better time talk about the trip? Our friend Grant (who we stayed with) doesn't have internet so I wrote this after the first day to save for later. I don't have anything else written from the other days, but I do plan on recapping them a little in a future post. 

This post was written on Thursday, March 26, 2015.

We arrived at Grant’s apartment in Lemont at 8 PM last night. We ordered pizza and met his two 

girl-friends who neither Sean or I could drink enough to drown out. In polite terms, we didn't care for them. They left late and we felt exhausted from traveling, friends of friends, and the daunting task of navigating the big city, that laid before us in the morning.

I just want to give a little background about Sean and I. We aren't sheltered human beings. We've traveled abroad (heck, I grew up abroad), seen bits of the country and the world, been in tough and sticky situations, etc. It’s not like we've lived a bubble our entire lives. That being said, this Chicago visit is the second time I've ever been and otherwise, I have never experienced such a large city before. I've never been to New York or Los Angeles. The biggest cities I've experienced, yet still don’t compare, are Kansas City; Philadelphia; Washington D.C.; and Venice, Italy. So let us continue.

We slept in late this morning and caught the 12:45 train from Tinley Park at 80th Avenue and took it into LaSalle station. The Tinley Park station is very quaint, and even though it’s tucked within the confines of white, upper middle-class suburbia, I imagined myself living nearby and heading out on a trip to see a friend or grandparent far away.

Tinley Park (80th Ave.) train station.

We boarded the train at 12:45 and off we went. I grabbed a window seat and Sean sat beside me. Suburbia soon transformed into woodland, and then the ruins of old factory towns seemed to stream by out of nowhere. I scanned the homes and abandoned buildings in my mind. I was flooded by horrible ancient memories that never were. The wreckage of a golden era littered the landscape from my cabin. Vacant fields, and drive-in movie lots, boarded windows, and once-glorious Victorians left to rot in rows with their friends. Car parts and pieces, and slabs of broken concrete scattered like bombs and shrapnel in the backyards of 1950s nuclear family homes. My heart ached and I felt motion sick from the train and the focus of my horror. Does anyone here even think twice about these things? Or is it just the scenery? I thought. How does this kind of poverty still even exist in America? I mean, granted, I know that there is worse both here and in other countries, but in one of the biggest and supposedly greatest cities in the world? How does a human being even live and breathe in this environment? Let’s push aside the emotional aspect, and just consider the practical aspect. How is it even possible to live in a home that is falling to pieces around you? Or a home that is being swallowed by the earth itself?

I was ready to get off the train. I wasn't disgusted, just sad.

We entered the city and the bubble of Chicago life welcomed us indifferently. If you've never been to Chicago, you absolutely should. My overall impression of the city is this: Chicago is proud. It’s big and intimidating and it knows it’s the shining jewel of the Midwest, but it doesn't flaunt, because it doesn't have to. Chicago is old and grown and can handle itself, if need be, but isn't considerably forceful. It’s nurturing, but not overbearing. Chicago is the mother that loves her children, but isn't afraid to let them wander a little. She just wants to test them. Chicago is firm and confident and is willing to let others shine, because it knows it’s awesome and it doesn't need to prove it.

Sean and I left the LaSalle train station and wandered into the street, then followed my phone’s map to the art museum. It’s smaller than KC’s as far as grandeur and monumental status. But, Chicago doesn't need to flaunt, remember? What the museum lacks in an impressive exterior, it makes up, obviously, in it’s seemingly infinite collections of art and definitely impressive pieces. It made’s the Nelson-Atkins back at home seem like a joke. (Not that I think the Nelson-Atkins is a joke. I could spend hours in that place, it's so beautiful.) There is so much to see in this museum. It’s incredible. There is absolutely no way you could give it and all it’s contents the attention it deserves in a short time.

After the art museum, I wasn't feeling well (side effects of not having eaten a real meal in two days. Apparently Trader Joe’s ‘Sweet & Spicy Beef Jerky’ and chocolate-covered espresso beans is not a real meal.), so we opted to get some coffee at Starbucks across the street. Sean and I chit-chatted and sipped our coffees, people-watched, and I discussed the probable architectural history of the building across the street. After a lull in the conversation, I finally asked Sean, “Would you live here?” Immediately, he nodded, “Yeah. I would.” Later at dinner, we would talk more on the subject and find ourselves agreeing that we sort of really want Chicago to be in our near future.

I told Sean that I feel like staying in KC would be comfortable, but we would stop growing in the ways we want to, and I know this because I think we already have. I told him that I think it’s possible we've pretty much gotten everything we could have out of Kansas City in these past two years, and I think we need to move on to continue growing in the right ways. He completely agreed, and while it won’t happen for a year and we do still have a lot more to talk about, I think this is a transition that we’re really leaning towards.

I've felt a lot of pressure to be doing something “important” and “impressive” in these early years, but it’s only been recently that we've realized we just want to spend this time getting to know ourselves and working towards becoming better, more well-rounded and knowledgeable people. Sean is finally in a position with his job where he can provide a lot of stability and happiness for both of us, and I think it would be even more lucrative to take advantage of that stability in a new and different place.
It won’t be easy. In fact, I’m scared to death, but I think, sometimes, scary is good.