Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Unique Urban Oasis

Having grown up in a very distinctly-named Connecticut town, full of urban myths about frogs, TWO bowling alleys, a drive-in and a flea market, an AM radio station and a local paper, a "boom-box" parade, a Cupid contest, and other quaint bits that would seem odd to outsiders, I like to visit other towns and ferret out the little bits that make their areas unique.

While I didn't really get a chance to explore Kari's Kommunity while visiting in January, I did start to glimpse a few things that made me smile ... and that's no bull.
Despite the glaringly obvious sign that I was in Chicago Bulls country, I did feel welcomed to the neighborhood.
There were one or two things that did make me wonder though. Like, how much DOES it snow, if the town has to rig the Christmas tree that far up a light-pole?
 What EXACTLY is happening at the lake that needs to stay at the lake? (Which lake?)
How many local residents have sniggered when Wile E. Coyote tries to head into the gazebo area at Smitty's?
What do I do for clothing if I'm not looking for jeans and a cute top? Where do I shop?
I know how much wood it takes a wood chuck to chuck, since he can chuck wood. He chucks it into neatly stacked cord circles.  Personal note: These are so much more attractive than the cords and cords of wood that were dumped into my driveway as a kid, that then we had to stack floor to rafters in the garage, and then schlep into the house.

Given the recent "inclement" weather in New York, I've decided I need to start saving money to convert a concrete silo into a bunker. What? Why so specific on my type of real estate? Because although I dream of a beach adjacent cottage, recent events have shown me that one of these, in the heartland, is MUCH more of a solid investment.

I was looking like a dork when I took pictures of these at the local community college, but who's laughing now East Coast? Oh yeah -- the mid-West.

And, well, then there was this guy who made me miss my New England roots - don't tread on my antique furniture and all that.

Welcome to the neighborhood. Don't trespass, shoplift, do a U-turn in my lot, ask me to bargain, and stay off my lawn, you damn tourist you. But welcome!

Maybe I won't move to Illinois after all.

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