The day began like most Fridays. I had no classes, so I had
the whole morning to prepare for the journey. I packed a
suitcase full of clothes and toiletries. I selected a bunch of
CDs to keep me sane. Since I would be sleeping in my car, I took
my blankets and pillow. I also brought some “food.” That was
all. I filled my escape pod with these things and wondered where
Alex and Jeff were going to put their stuff, let alone their bodies.
I also took the car in for an oil change. It needed it. One
of these days the escape pod is going to fall apart into its
component Lego pieces and I’ll be up shit creek.
I told Alex and Jeff that I wanted to leave at noon. That
meant they were to have eaten at 11:30. Of course, as things
with this group go, Alex was just getting up just before noon.
He said it would take only five minutes to pack and shower.
Sure.
Alex was accounted for, but where was Jeff? I had knocked on
his door and called his room, but no luck. Johnny had done the
same. He wasn’t at the Hub or anywhere he would normally be.
It was 12:30.
I couldn’t believe he would do this to me. I left a message
on his board: “Where the fuck are you? If I don’t find you by
1:00, you’re WALKING!” Alex and I tried to think of where he
could be. Then a thought struck me: “Maybe he really is in his
room. Maybe he’s just sleeping really really hard.” Following
this hunch I went back upstairs and pounded on his door with
renewed vigor. I was rewarded with a groggy “Whut?”
He had been there the whole time. We got him up and showered
and such. Then we took off. I stopped at Wendy’s to get lunch,
using the coupon for a free meal I had won from WGRE (thanks, Beth!).
I had made the drive to Chicago about two weeks before. This
time it took about four hours due to traffic. We managed to make
it to Jeff’s house without a problem. There were oatmeal cookies
waiting for us. Jeff’s mom is cool.
I dropped off my two friends and headed into the city to find
Josh’s apartment. Apparently, at certain times in the day, They
change the direction of traffic in some lanes. So a lane that
appears to be going one way is really going the other. This
explains why I was driving head on towards a fleet of cars. I
shifted to the far right lane and continued on through the worst
traffic I ever had the misfortune of experiencing. No one gets
pulled over for speeding in downtown Chicago; it’s not possible.
Josh somehow secured an apartment a block from the Watertower
in a nice part of town. I pulled into a parking garage and Josh
was there waiting for me. We exchanged greetings and headed up
to his apartment. The place was comfortable (much bigger than a
dorm room).
For dinner, Josh presented me with the best home-made Hawaiian
pizza I have ever had. Everything about it was right. Josh has
to make pizza for everyone when he comes back.
We were running late for the concert we were going to, so we
has to jam. Exiting the apartment, we went across a few blocks
to the elevated train. I had never been on one, but it was very
much like the subway in New York, only on an elevated track…
As luck would have it, the stop which would have conveniently
dropped us off in front of the Aragon was closed. We got off at
the next exit and backtracked through some shady neighborhoods.
I made a mental note not to come back this way after the concert.
After being frisked at the door, we ambled in amongst a large
crowd of concert-goers. There were a lot of older types there,
which I thought was unusual. The kids were mostly grunglings and
preppies — just what you’d expect at a Toad the Wet Sprocket
concert. We moved upstairs to the concert floor. The Aragon is
a converted theater done up to look like a courtyard within the
walls of a Spanish villa. We were surrounded by towers and
balconies. Looking up, one saw an artificial night sky complete with stars.
A lot of people were drinking beer when they weren’t spilling
it all over the floor near where I was standing. Josh remarked
that it looked like one big party at Delta Upsilon. He said that
he would feel better if everyone were smoking pot instead of
drinking beer; they’d be calmer and less pushy. I agreed. Later
on, I did observe a group of girls passing a joint amongst themselves.
Hootie and the Blowfish was the band that opened for Toad. I
had never heard their music, but Ryan seemed to like them, so
that was good enough for me. Since he was jealous that I was
seeing Hootie AND Toad in the same night, I thought I would
embellish my account of the concert. But I don’t have to.
Hootie was amazing. The lead singer, Darius, had a voice
designed for a gospel choir. He opened many of the songs a
capella. Some of them moved me to tears. After the break, Toad
the Wet Sprocket took the stage. I had seen them recently with
Ryan, but this performance was at least three times as good.
Darius came out and sang “Crowing.” The second encore was a duet
of Glen and Darius singing “I Will Not Take These Things For
Granted.” All in all, I was pleased.
Josh and I filtered out of the Aragon with everyone else.
Much to our dismay, the place where we exited the el was now
closed. It was now about 11:30 PM in downtown Chicago. I turned
to Josh and asked him what we were going to do. He said that we
could just follow the tracks and get on at the next boarding
point. This seemed logical to me. As we walked along the
street, the other concert-goers flagged down cabs and, group by
group, faded away until we were nearly alone.
We made it to the next stop to find that it too was closed. I
began to get nervous. I was without my trench coat, so I felt
vulnerable. I wished I had a gun or a knife, to provide a sense
of security. All I had was a marble which Brandy had given me
before I left. Members of Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship gave
out marbles to everyone and told them that they would be praying
for them over break. I took that marble with me wherever I went
throughout the rest of the week.
I stood there on the dark sidewalk, my hand clutching the
marble in my pocket, looking at Josh. He said we should keep
following the track. I looked at how the track ran through a
alley and into darkness further on. I said, “Fuck that, Josh.
There’s no way in hell I’m going down there.” I was really
wigging out. He assented and we backtracked, looking for an
answer. Along the way, a legless panhandler rolled up to us
asking for any spare change. The homeless and the destitute are
hard for me to deal with. I want to buy them all meals and find
them a place to stay. I tried that in Ohio and in New York, but
there’s always more homeless around the corner. We brushed past
the guy, ignoring him, and something icy prodded my heart.
We finally found an el station and got on board. There were
two guards with attack dogs on the train to help keep the peace.
I felt safe, but at the same time afraid of a city where such
things were necessary.
Back in Josh’s apartment, I reveled in the warmth and the
food I had and thought about the guy in the wheelchair.
We checked our e-mail, talked a bit, and then went to sleep.