If you ever feel as though you’re living in the spotlight, take a trip to Chicago -or any similar big city. Step out on the street and behold the fact that you do not matter… To anyone here. That’s the best way I can describe how it felt to walk the streets in Chicago. No one matters to anyone else here unless you’re holding up progress. That’s not meant as a slight on the people of the windy city. It’s a statement based on my observations of everyone around me as I hobbled along the downtown city streets by myself. Before anyone gets all ruffled, let me explain.
Each city I have invested actual time in (voluntarily or otherwise) has provided a small cross-section of the population in that area. Whitefish was nice, but it’s bittersweet for the locals. They’re happy for the influx of money, but the cost of living already makes it almost unbearable to live there as a resident. The condo I stayed in was less than 1k square feet and they were on the market for $900k. That is obscene.
LA was LA. I could feel the illusions of grandure everywhere. Granby was right out of Mayberry. From a stranger who gave me a lift, bought me lunch, then took me to my apartment, to the rental car lady who swapped cars with me during the week to make sure I didn’t go without wheels. But just like Whitefish, Granby was growing at breakneck speed. Construction was everywhere.
Chicago felt different. Where LA people wanted others to look at their style, Chicago folks felt disconnected to the world around them. Everyone had their attention elsewhere (head down in their phone almost exclusively, even when driving) and no one in the moment except maybe the panhandlers.
Add my hobble to the fact I dressed for comfort and not in business attire, and what I experienced were people glancing at me as though I was just another transient waiting to ask for money. Was I being judged because people here are conditioned to see anyone not dressed for work, or an obvious tourist, as a panhandler? If so, that’s quite troublesome… but I also understand their conditioned behavior. Making eye contact means an invitation to ask for “just a few bucks to ride the Metra.” Pans aren’t even afraid to walk into the train station to catch people off guard. Matter of fact, one just approached me while sitting here typing this – Speaking really low so the authorities don’t hear him and not getting too close to draw attention to what he’s doing.
I haven’t met anyone rude or more noticeably inconsiderate than anyone else. I’m just surrounded by robots. Head stuck in their current or next task. Tourists are easy to spot – they’re the only ones looking up, smiling, and walking without a purpose.
Has it ever been any different? I couldn’t tell you. I can’t remember what held my attention before smart phones. Well, actually I can, but it was only when I was in front of a computer terminal at home or work, not while out in public…
And that, my curious readers, is a whole other group of stories.
Off The Rails 