Mondays with Mike: Chicago toddles again
August 14, 2023 • 9 Comments • Posted in Mike Knezovich, Mondays with MikeAs our friend and neighbor Al Hippensteel puts it, I’ve been on a kind of blog sabbatical. Hope to get back in the rhythm starting today.
Three years ago this past April, after six days in the hospital and three days in a City-run covid isolation hotel, I got a cab home from Chicago’s Streeterville neighborhood back to our Printers Row condo.
I took a video of that dystopian ride. Little did I know things would get worse before they got better.
The lockdown was bad enough, but a couple rounds of George Floyd riots (yes, there were also constructive protests—the looting and violence were riots) left a “Dawn of the Dead” air to Chicago’s once vibrant streets and businesses. Shattered glass, boarded up stores, and lonely streets.
It’s been a long, arduous slog, and we’re still not exactly where we were before the pandemic (and likely never will be), but I’m happy to report Chicago has found its legs and is running hard again.
During the lockdown and beyond, I’d say that we city dwellers had it the hardest. Why? Because every place one could choose to live carries tradeoffs. For example, small town life offers peace, quiet and a sense of intimacy. But that can sometimes mean too peaceful, boring, and everybody in everybody else’s business all the time.
City life—as Beth and I have been lucky enough to experience—means drinking from a fire hose of cultural and sporting events, but also enduring the blare of sirens, the thundering L trains, daily reports of violent crime, and much less green space.
During covid, there was no tradeoff for us. We lost what we came for 20+ years ago. There was no jazz at Jazz Showcase down the street, no Chicago Symphony just blocks away, no SummerDance at Grant Park. No nothing.
It was bleak but we improvised, having impromptu meetings in our little park just outside our door. Sitting in parkas next to wide open windows at Half Sour, our favorite watering hole, when it was freezing outside, seeking camaraderie as well as hoping against hope that it would help the place survive. Buying gift cards at Sofi, the Italian restaurant downstairs in our building, and maybe not using them right away (or at all) as a way of keeping it off life support.
Sometimes I wondered if it would be worth it, this trying to stick it out thing. Over the past few weeks I can, relievedly, elatedly, report: Damn right it was.
Taylor Swift, the Pride Parade, NASCAR, Beyonce, Lollapalooza, Ed Sheeran all in a month—a bunch of stuff we don’t do but that brings energy one can feel. (And in NASCAR’s case, hear.) Jazz Showcase has more programming than ever, including a Monday evening summer residency by the Chicago Jazz Orchestra, a splendid big band. We took one of those in a couple weeks ago and then the next week we headed to Symphony Center to see Ben Folds in concert with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, one of the most moving, stirring performance of any kind I’ve seen anywhere, on any stage. (Their rendition of the Psychedelic Furs “The Ghost in You” was bring-you-to-tears beautiful.)
Last Friday night we cabbed up to Montrose Beach and Harbor to celebrate a friend’s birthday on a sublime, lakefront evening replete with puffy, peach-tinted clouds against the skyline. And this weekend our Dearborn block closed for the Printers Row Art Fest, with Lit Fest coming in September.
Chicago faces, as it always has, serious problems in addition to its gleaming skylines, beautiful public lakefront, and cultural gems.
Like I said: It’s a tradeoff, and one I’m proud and privileged to make.