Disclaimer: This post was meant to be posted 6/16/11. Due to a host of mental problems and spotty internet, it’s being posted today, 6/20/11. Certain portions of the post are speculative (from the post 6/16/11 viewpoint) about the future (now pre-6/20/11) world. These speculations will be commented on in bold, from the here and now.
Since the first inklings of consciousness started unsurely bouncing around my skull, my dream has been to visit Chicago Illinois. Yesterday, I fulfilled that lifelong ambition. Years of speculative pining proved warranted as I took those elated steps into O’Hare, and, in an instant, the day’s sun brightened ever so slightly, and that brightness swept over the concourse, warmed it, raised the myriad spirits within and guided their paths all the better. I looked back and recalled that the man that had sat next to me on the flight hadn’t emanated an invisible storm of body odor for two straights hours. He had smelled like the backyard of my childhood home, of hints of pine, of thankful and freshly watered grass. Everything that before seemed so soured came to me sweetly, kindly, exactly as it should. I had done it.
Four days is and isn’t a long time. Hopefully, it is time enough for me to do everything I have longed to do for such an inarguably long time. Knowing me, Carmen, I will accomplish nothing (I accomplished nothing.). Nevertheless, these are the main objectives of my trip.
The Main Objectives of My Trip to Chicago
- See Wind
Another way to say Chicago is to say “The Windy City” as one would say “Post-Apocalyptic Hellscape with Roving Bands of Cannibalistic Hipsters and Homeless” for New York City. Chicago’s moniker refers to how windy the city can be, from time to time, when high-pressure pockets of air move towards low-pressure pockets of air. Sadly, wind is transparent, and I will never see it, turns out.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope.
- Sleep in Peter Venckman’s Bed
Peter Venckman is a made-up Ghostbuster. Since he is made-up his bed is, by the transitive property, made-up and make-believe and I can’t sleep in made-up nor make-believe beds, turns out.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope.
- Catch a Foul Ball at a Cub’s Game at Wrigley Field While Eating a Hot Dog While Drinking a Beer
From what I’ve surmised, this objective is improbable but not impossible. First, I will need one of those skull-mounted octopus hats that allows people to drink beer hands-free. Then I will need to be seated in a seat that a foul ball comes within arm’s reach of. To minimize expenses, I’ll have to take the necessary time giving up vegetarianism and stretching my eating of a single hot dog until the unlikely moment arrives. After that, I only have to wait.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope, though I did drink a beer at a Cubs game at Wrigley Field.
- Sing “Twist & Shout” in the Thanksgiving Day Parade
I could probably swing this if I wasn’t such an awful, terrible singer.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope.
- Eat a Deep Dish Pizza
This I can maybe do.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope, and this was a pretty easy one!
- Swim Across One of the Great Lakes
This I cannot maybe do. A cinderblock could out-swim me.
Did I, Carmen, Succeed?=Nope.
Wish me luck. I need luck to do these things. Wish it.
You know how this turns out, save the luck-wishing for a time more worthy and un-happened, please. I will need it.
Post-Script: Infinite thanks to Justin Garber for his generosity, conversation, and big screen TV with golf on it during my stay in Chicago.
baby pictures of famous dictators 