The Urbanologist

Chicago on the Cheap: A Personal History

I’ve been thinking a great deal about Early Influences. First loves, first train trips, first solo trips, and other experiences that have had an effect on who am I and what I do.

My mind keeps returning to one book: “Mr. Cheap’s Chicago”.

I apologies that it’s not something with more gravitas (Pilgrims Progress, anyone? No, of course not) but it was my secular bible during my early days in Chicago. Published in 1994, it was authored by Mark Waldstein (“writer, actor, and ‘starving artist’’) who seemed to have a breezy handle on all that was good and affordable in the City of Wind.

This book was given to me by my father a few weeks before I left for Chicago and it was brand new, purchased at the University Bookstore in Seattle. I poured over it with the intensity of a Talmudic scholar, paired with my Rand McNally Street Map of Chicago, imagining my journeys and thinking about which branch of the El would bring my closest to The Vic, the Museum of Holography, and the Chicago Historical Society.

I bent back page corners, cross-referenced the proximity of various “cheap eats” to second hand CD stores in order to make the most of my limited time away from Hyde Park as a first year in college at the University of Chicago. After all, an excursion out of Hyde Park took some planning, as older students wove tales of the Jeffrey Express bus (“eh, sometimes you can wait for half an hour”) to the Loop and the meager mid-day offerings of the Metra (nee Illinois Central) trains from 53rd Street to Randolph Street station.

It all made sense as it was received wisdom from Established Parties and there was no impossibly infinite world of information stored electronically on what was already known as the World Wide Web. It was much less wide in 1994, and there was no Yelp, Google, TripAdvisor, or other storehouses to complement anecdotal information about transit options, Italian beef offerings, jazz clubs for the under 21 set, and other such matters of importance.

So I fell back on the work of Mark Waldstein with zeal. If I heard about some far distant eatery in Rogers Park, I immediately looked back to see what Mark said about this forward-thinking kitchen (“It’s healthier, but not necessarily health food”). His words, opinions, witty asides, and other chatty remarks were my lodestone for navigating Chicago during my time in college.

Mark, I tip my hat to you. If only there was a way I could reach out to you easily via electronic communication. I’m sure I’ll think of something.  

On Sunsets

At 6:34PM on Captiva Island in Florida, the sun set over the western horizon.

I know because I was there, parked on the beach with a rum-forward concoction purchased at the nearby Mucky Duck, a local neighborhood watering hole that’s popular with visitors, particularly those visiting from colder climes.

The sun has set billions of times before and humans were nowhere nearby for the first, oh, let’s say few billion years. It is a regular occurrence, and yet, it still draws the generally curious and those who enjoy the changing colors as twilight arrives.

As I approached the beach around 5:30PM, it was clear that this was Not An Event To Be Missed, as people were approaching the beach with coolers, chairs, reluctant children, plastic cups full to the brim with spirits, and others carrying tripods, no doubt with the hope that they might find their elaborate framed photograph in one of the island’s many shell emporiums or other gift store outlets.

The jockeying for position was intense and as Mucky Duck has the only parking lot right next to the beach, it’s a popular place. I heard one many cajole the parking attendant here with “Come on, can we just park here, I mean this is my daughter’s first sunset here and oh yeah, come on, you just let that other guy in, what did he give you some money, ok, forget it, we’re out of here.”

I was next up and I said “Do you have any parking spaces left?” A simple query, mundanely phrased, garnered me a “Ha, you’re the first one not to offer me a bribe”. He jerked his hand in the direction of a vacated space and I pulled in, hoping that the recently scorned motorist in front of me did not make use of his rear view mirrors.

The patio was my next stop and it was full with spring training enthusiasts, most of whom seemed to be Twins fans, despite the mighty New England presence that seemed to be everywhere, including the woman at the rental car agency (Revere, Mass native), the chef at my hotel’s restaurant (Peabody, Mass native) and the guy who sold me the bug spray at the CVS (an “escapee” from New Bedford, Mass. His description, not mine)

After grabbing a rum drink, I sat down next to two women who said they were from New York and Virginia,  but their spiritual home was Captiva, of course. They didn’t quite get the sunset appeal, but they reminded me I should look for a green light right after the sunset was finished. They were more curious to learn about the world of writing and I told them that “It’s quite glamorous, as long as you don’t like money.” They laughed, but quickly excused themselves to set up their families for the sunset money shot.

As I wandered over to the beach, avoiding selfie sticks and overzealous self-appointed family photographers, I realized something: no one was actually watching the sunset. With the exception of a few older sunset-devotees, everyone else was setting up a photo or otherwise engaged. It was a general sense of not being present, distracted beyond distraction, and just in some other place that could have been any place.

And me? I was also getting a shot ready, so I am as guilty as the rest of us so assembled that early evening on Captiva.

I’m going back tomorrow and I will remember my credo to be present in place.

In our time, such attentiveness is a tall order.

I invite you to do the same.

What Are You Reading Next About Chicago? These Three Books, That’s What.

Every so often, a new list offers up “must reads” on Chicago.Inevitably, the same old hoary chestnuts are trotted out, including The Jungle, Boss, and The Devil and The You Know What City.

Enough already.

As someone who has written about the city for over twenty years, let me offer up three lesser known gems that deserve your kind attention.

The Pig and the Skyscraper by Marco D’eramo.

D’eramo started life as a theoretical physicist (who hasn’t?) and he came to Chicago in the late 1990s to research a book on American capitalism (is there any finer?) Along the way, he came to use Chicago as a lens for telling this story as he peeked around curious corners, including the history of the stockyards, the railroads, skyscrapers, the Black Panthers, Pullman, and other bits and pieces.

PS: The chapter titles are a hoot. Witty and learned.

Black Metropolis: A Study of Negro Life in a Northern City by St. Clair Drake & Horace R. Cayton

Based on research conducted by the Works Progress Administration, this masterful study of Chicago’s African American community compiled by St. Clair Drake and Horace R. Cayton takes readers into the South Side through conversations with a staggering array of individuals. From elected officials to church leaders, the book reveals a complicated community grappling with the challenges of the Depression, racism, and other matters. Also, there’s much joy and revelation, along with a number of lessons for our own time.

Bomb the Suburbs by William Upski Wimsatt

When this book came out twenty plus years ago, most folks in Chicago didn’t know what to make of it. Was it a treatise on anarchy? Was it just some young punk telling people about his exploits tagging rusty freight railroad cards? What the hell was that cover art all about?

Lots of questions indeed, and the book offers up observations from a Hyde Park resident (the Wimsatt in the title) on hip-hop’s cultural moment, the posturing of poseurs, and Chicago’s place in the world at that recent historical moment. It’s a  book that’s very much worth your time.

And a bonus: Hyde Park, Illinois by Max Grinnell

 If you’ve ever thought about the history of this unique South Side community (or even if you haven’t), it’s worth picking up. It came out of my BA research at the University of Chicago and it’s a visual history of the community through rare historical images that document its transformation over the past 125 years, give or take.

Note: the book has over 140 images, so you’re getting at least140,000 words.