Illinoir

Round 8 PM, the music came on real loud upstairs. After fuming for a while, blasting back with a little NIN, I realized I was bored with all my entertainment options. Headed up to Blockbuster to return Changing Lanes which was decent, bizarre and reminiscent of Sam Jackson’s role in Die Hard With a Vengeance (the man who’s just getting fucked with all day long) and then just kept driving up Chicago Avenue. Pulled into the Norris Center parking lot and just sat all the way in the east end, listening to the Blackhawks game. Tired of that and decided to do an old school Sheridan Road tour. Took it a little bit farther than usual, following Sheridan as much as possible (it gets frickin hard the further north you go.) So I’m thinking, no problems as long as I know what direction I’m heading, I can always manage to make it back. At some point, up in Waukegan, I got turned around a bit and I start to feel the twinges of panic at the edge of my mind. It was funny, feeling it poke in, fighting it back, not worrying about being lost.

Finally, I just said to myself, “I’m going to hit one of three things: Wisconsin, 94, or Chicago.” And so, I stopped worrying. Eventually, I hit Green Bay Rd, which took me back to Grand Avenue, which took me to 41, which sped me on home.

It felt revelational, though. Just resigning myself to the fact that things would work out, that in the absence of a gas station and an embarrassed request for directions, I trusted enough in geography and the non-situationalness (what?) of the situation….. To be as such in every day life. Well, that’s the goal.

Some notes:

• the Blackhawks won, 4-0. great game. 3 power play goals. sully continues to be hot-hot-hot.
• I passed, at some point, a ton of cops lining the street. At least 5 cruisers, several “unmarked” cars, a few SUV’s…. It looked like a real, how you say, operation going on.
• driving after playing tons of GTA Vice City can be a dangerous thing. the desire to hit the e-brake, skid out, not care about hitting things. also amusing to be looking at cars and saying, “That’s a Sabre, that’s a Banshee, that’s a Sentinel….” also, somewhat (okay, very) pathetic.
• I absolutely love driving around with nowhere to go while there’s a good game on. Reminded me of a similar trip late at night, listening to most 7 innings of a rain-delayed Cubs game. It was past 11 PM and Pat and Ron were still broadcasting this game and it was just fantastic to be up late with them….

Got home and the apartment was silent(ish) except for upstairs guy’s moronic laughter. I still haven’t met them and it’s just bizarre. Though, I never met Miss Hubbell, formally. Every time I said hi to her, she was super cold too. In fact, of the 5 other units in the building, I’ve only had conversations with the occupants of 2 others, and I haven’t even met all the occupants of one of those units. Guess, though, it’s the same with everywhere I’ve lived. 722 Clark, I only knew the guy across the hall (and if I ever heard his girlfriend moan in sexual pleasure again, I’d be able to identify her, filthy minx) and on Winthrop, I only knew the next-door folks, and that was cuz he was the handyman (janitor? maintenance dude? whatever.) Over on Winchester, got to know the totally psychotic guy across the hall a little bit. This was the guy who ran an extension cord from the outlet in the hall into his apartment and only ever entered or left via the back door (and so I’d run into him while I was outside having a smoke.) Wacked.

That’s truly enough for now, I’ve gotta say.