There was no spring, apparently. I was wearing a jacket on Tuesday, and by Thursday, it was 91 degrees.
The first hot day in Chicago is uncomfortable, for sure, but it holds so much promise.
In the working districts, men forego their coats for button-down shirts and no ties. Women lose the pantsuits or tights and boots for dresses that billow in the lake breezes.
In the douchebag district, where I happened to find myself this afternoon, the tourist bros flock to the rooftop bars in starched Cubs jerseys and t-shirts with inappropriate, misogynistic sayings that make me wonder if actual shops sell them.
We have a meeting in the air-conditioned comfort of a corporate brewery, complete with mini tacos and chicken strips, and then I head out into the jungle.
Chicago is awesome. Remember that as I write these words.
Continue reading The First Hot Day in Chicago
ride, cycle, train, walk home
It starts with a seven-minute walk from my desk to the bike rack at the entrance to Navy Pier.
There’s an elevator ride in there too.
For most of Chicago’s bitterly cold and blustery winter that walk is fairly benign if not altogether banal.
You wave to bored shopkeepers walking down the middle concourse of the pier or get out in the brisk wind and chill air to enliven yourself after a long day of work. Usually the former.
But in late spring, on nice days by our standards, they begin to show up to the pier like zombie hoards.
Continue reading The longest way home
My commute got a little crazy last week after someone stole my catalytic converter out of my Toyota truck. Apparently they’re prone to it. My insurance agent said they’ve handled several hundred claims related to stolen catalytic converters this summer alone.
The good thing is this is just the thing I needed to start biking to work.