NotebookNotes from the Road: Chicago II, Day 6, At Home
I expected this trip to impact the rest of my life. It's for a story that will launch my career because of the massive readership of the publication it's going in. And technically, everything we experience, however minute, impacts the rest of our lives.
I guess I just didn't expect this trip to be as dramatic as it was. I didn't expect the things I saw and the things I learned and the things I felt to be as intense as they were.
I just spent five days in one of America's wealthiest cities, but all I keep thinking about, all my mind keeps going back to, are what I saw on the fringes. The forgotten nooks and crannies of Chicago's corners. Like Roseland. Like all the South Side. One of the characters I was interviewing called it "a shadow world," a place that well-to-do Chicagoans not only brush off, but seem to act as if it hardly exists.
I ate lunch twice at a bar where they played the local news, and both times, there were two or three stories about someone killing someone. I'll never forget one video. Two guys were walking down a sidewalk. Someone yells at them from nearly out of frame, sitting in a car. Then there's a flash from the car. One of the guys on the sidewalk yanks out his gun and returns fire. The other falls.
This is every day, multiple times a day, around here.
"People are just f------ nuts, man," one of my characters told me. "I mean, they're just nuts." It's why he carries three knives and has a gun under his driver seat. Because he has to be crazier than all of them to survive.
It's been a trip that changed the way I look at the world. Because of Roseland, yeah, but also because of the main character of this story. He's a guy I would have never met had a lot of horrific s--- not happened to him. But he's also a guy I probably would have never known the way I do otherwise. I'm not happy the s--- happened to him, but I'm happy to have met him and to know him now. Under ordinary circumstances, I probably would see him and turn my eyes away.
I'm sort of ashamed of that, though. Becuase for all my wanting to love people, for all the good I want to do in this world, I can barely look someone in the eye the first time I meet him.
But I think that's going to change after this. After this, I think I'm going to be a true friend even to strangers. Because I realized that being a friend isn't always helping out or shaking a hand or giving a hug or even having some profound conversation. You can be someone's friend without speaking a word. It's as simple as simply not reacting to the guy in traffic screaming at you because you're in his way and even though there's nowhere for either of you to guy, he's flipping out. Or not reacting to the other guy who just cut you off going 80 mph.
I will tell you this—and I might be repeating myself from my previous Notes From the Road, and if so I apologize: I'll never complain about anything ever again after this trip. It's not like I don't have problems compared to what I saw here. I just don't have problems that are worth flipping out over.
Of course, this whole new zen philosophy got tested within an hour of being home. Got in bed, and then the new puppy threw up at the foot of it. Chunks, everywhere. Later that night, he threw up two more times. And then again this morning. Katie was upset because she's behind on sleep, and of course, I wasn't thrilled about it either. I had problems again.
But really, it's fine. It bothers me more that it made Katie and I squabble than that Jack was throwing up. (Turns out he'd eaten part of his stuffed animal toy and his lil' system just had to clean that out.) And besides, it was, of course, nothing personal, and the main reason Katie got upset was because she had a headache, and she wanted me to have a great return home. Instead, I was cleaning up puke at 4 a.m.
Really though, I didn't care. Not a few minutes after the fact. I have a truly great life. Better even than if I were a millionaire, I think. Because if I were a millionaire, or even in the six-figures club, I would have never come here to Chicago. Well, maybe I would have gone there. To be a tourist, you know. Stay downtown, eat at the fancy places, go see the cool things, trek up the Sears Tower. And there's nothing wrong with that. Katie and I want to come here together someday and experience all that together.
But I know I would have never gone anywhere near the South Side, anywhere near Roseland. And if I hadn't, I wouldn't be who I feel like I became on this trip. Not that it's about me. But there's something to be said for seeing a side of life up close the way I just did. It changes you. They say you can't unsee, and they're right. I'll never forget this trip. It changed me, several ways. No way will I ever get angry as easily as I used to. Never will I doubt myself like I used to. Or bemoan whatever problems I have.
I think I've become someone different. Trips like this have a way of inspiring us. I want it to stay as raw and as real with me as it sat in my gut last night. Maybe that's why I feel so compelled to type this out and publish it. It makes it permanent record, almost more so than ink on paper. What I feel, what I can't unsee, it's kind of ugly and it's not all light and white and clean. Life lived in that bubble, though, is life outside of reality.
There is a decent chance that this, all this feeling and inspiration, will fade. There's a chance that a few more puppy barfs, or a few more bad moments, will make me revert to old, spoiled, whiny me. But I hope not.
One thing I do know for sure, though: I couldn't have picked a better way to spend the last few days before my birthday.
Reader Comments (2)
It is a crazy world out there indeed. I am glad you enjoyed your trip and I hope you have an amazing birthday.
Thanks, Anna.