No More City Girl

It's hard to tell which has changed more: me or Chicago. I last visited the city about five years ago, in the spring, and had a glorious time. I remember thinking it was the pinnacle of what man could achieve as far as city-building. I took tons of pictures of stunning skyscrapers, each more ethereal than the last. At the time I was living in Washington, D.C., and Chicago seemed much more exciting. Aside from a slight pain in my hip from years of running, I was healthy.

Now I'm here again, but in winter. It's cold and snowy. Noisy traffic clogs the streets. Everywhere there are signs warning you to watch for falling ice. (One wonders what to do should you see some.) The homeless people huddled in doorways, the beggars slumped in wheelchairs with cups outstretched, and the ranting lunatics shouting obscenities are all ignored by the passing throngs of office workers, each in his own cell phone world. I now take daily medications for high blood pressure.

In the interim, I moved to Maine. There's no traffic, no beggars, no ranting lunatics--at least none on the streets of Freeport. Lots of trees and water. All is calm. I sometimes wonder, is this still America? My husband explains that there are more people living in the city of Chicago than in the entire state of Maine. Since it's a free country, I choose Maine.