Senior Class: Al’s Taste of Chicago

Good news! Soon all of the memoir-writing classes I lead will be back in session, which means our “Senior Class” feature will be back in full swing, too.

I’m getting the ball rolling by introducing Al Hippensteel as our guest blogger today. After a long career in the printing industry, Al retired, appropriately, here in the Printers Row neighborhood of Chicago along with his wife, Donna. When I assigned “Taste” as a prompt for the Zoom memoir-writing class he attends, I was prepared for writers to come back with essays about food, restaurants, recipes, people’s interest in books, literature, music, art, clothing, that sort of thing. But Al surprised me by weaving many different tastes into one 500-word tribute to Chicago.

Al and Donna enjoy a Rainbow Cone at Taste of Chicago.

Taste

by Al Hippensteel

A week ago, my wife and I walked over to the Taste of Chicago, a summertime tradition featuring an array of food booths, each one showcasing a different city eatery.

In previous years “Taste,” as we locals call it, has been located in Chicago’s Grant Park. This year it was set in the shadow of Buckingham Fountain.

You can find just about anything to suit your taste at Taste. Donna and I headed directly to Rainbow Cone, a Chicago favorite. Orange Sherbet, Pistachio, Palmer House, Strawberry, and Chocolate. But what interested me most this year was the diversity of food and combinations, like Indian Tandoori Chicken served as a taco. Thai food served as a taco. Who knew a taco shell could turn out to be the perfect carrier for other ethnic food? Folks transporting their finger food around were always perusing their next “taste.”

Earlier, on a drive to Michigan, we stopped by a local produce stand that was having a garage sale that day. A stack of old vinyl albums was included in the sale, and my wife zeroed in on Hair, the Musical. It reminded me of the magical time when we, the youth of the late 60’s, yearned for a more egalitarian world. The songs spoke of love, drugs, and acceptance of all people: black, yellow, red, white. I’m afraid a lot of it turned out to be youthful enthusiasm: Generations that preceded us did not accept Aquarius. When we went out into the world, many of us experienced push back against our long hair, our beards, our taste in clothes.

Now, as retirees, we live in various places as elder statesmen, or is it statesperson? Some have chosen to live in retirement communities. Some choose famously large and Disney-like ones.

But our preference? Donna and I want to age in place in the high-rise condo building we live in now, near downtown Chicago. We live in a vibrant city that has more cultural stimulation, restaurants and sports events than any retirement community could offer. And guess what? I’ve realized an unintended circumstance while living here.

It’s Aquarius! If not a building filled with free love and seniors high on gummies, an incredibly diverse building of owners and renters, a constantly evolving stew of folks of all ages and stages in life. Black, brown, yellow and white — immigrants who have chosen America, college students, retired people, young families having babies. We have different tastes, different religions, different ways of dress. We share a gym, a laundry room, an outdoor swimming pool. We volunteer to tend our gardens and sort packages in our package room. Everyone is invited to social events. Even our maintenance staff gets into the act by buying donuts and coffee for special events like the annual cross-town classic when the Cubs and the White Sox, our two baseball teams, meet.

Life here in Chicago isn’t perfect. Crime is higher than we would like. Local politics can drive you crazy. The city is coping with an influx of migrants, but Chicago has long been a city of immigrants. A large vibrant Chinatown is just two miles away. Large lively Hispanic communities are close by. The largest Ukrainian community in the United States is here in Chicago, and so is the largest Polish population outside of Warsaw. We know what migrants mean to the city. It means people who will fit in and work hard. So is it any wonder we have a veritable ethnic feast of food at a festival called “Taste of Chicago?”