Chicago: Postscript.

I'm now safely back in the 'Burgh, after spending the bulk of the day driving through Ohio and Indiana. I would have made extraordinary time had a tractor trailer not flipped over a guard rail on the Indiana turnpike. I spent an hour creeping along at a snail's pace. My reaction to reaching the rolling hills of Eastern Ohio was notably strong. I felt relieved, and I felt at home. It's easy to overlook the effect topography has on one's psyche. If I've learned nothing else during the trips I've taken this summer, at least I've figured out that a flat terrain simply unsettles me. This characteristic is something that New York City and Chicago share- they are unending cityscapes with a continuous progression of neighborhoods that blend into one another. I don't care if they are on a grid. I find it difficult to process. And with the consumer homogenization rampant in our society now seemingly affecting our large cities, this phenomena is exaggerated. I could be anywhere in the city... in any city. It's the same brand of urban gentrification bleeding into formerly struggling neighborhoods. The areas have no obvious integrity or authentic character. They are virtually identical to an untrained eye.

When I start to get anxious about a similar thing happening in Pittsburgh, I take heart in the many topographic obstacles that break up the landscape of hometown. Neighborhoods retain their specific flavor, if only because they are bordered by mountains or rivers. In each little place, there are a host of unique factors developers have to consider. It's going to be difficult for them to apply the cookie-cutter approach that plagues this nation. Maybe I am merely deluding myself, but I find it heartening. Pittsburgh has been the best-kept "secret" of the Eastern United States for over twenty years. Despite the annual "optimistic" predictions of urban planners, it looks like it's going to remain this way for a bit. Some might bemoan the fact that huge influxes of yuppified suburbanites have not been forthcoming. I think we should be grateful for what we have. If you can find an even half-decent job in this city, then you have it made.

Having said that, Chicago does benefit from a certain "midwestern" attitude. The city has a more human vibe. The pace is notably slower than on the East Coast. People are MUCH more accessible. Ask a stranger for directions, and not only do they NOT ignore you... but they actually stop and offer useful information, and take the time to make sure they have helped you. Driving is also more laid back. I wasn't constantly besieged by honking horns, and hyper-aggressive action sequence maneuvers. I wasn't constantly afraid that an impatiently irate native would plow into the side of my car. Even pedestrians tend to respect the dangers cars can present, and vice versa. Even stranger- Chicago has actual bike lanes. Now that's impressive.

I was also impressed that the general vibe was one of safety and order. We didn't have to worry about where we parked our cars, nor did I feel the type of edgy energy that I always feel when walking down streets in East Coast metropolises. Perhaps this is the upside of the suburbanization of American inner cities. But I had very little anxiety during the time I spent in Chicago. Only on one occasion did I feel like we were in a place we shouldn't be. Right outside of downtown I spotted a neighborhood I wanted to photograph. It was a terribly depressed project complex that was actually fenced off from its surroundings. I had a palpable sense that the fencing was intended to contain the inhabitants. It looked like it could be a WWII-era ghetto of Eastern Europe. So we drove through the crowded streets on this hot summer day, and I stuck my none-too-discreet camera out of the window. Inexplicably we weren't even verbally threatened- although I have to note that we didn't linger there. Having said all of this, I also feel compelled to point out that we limited our meanderings to downtown and North Chicago. I'm certain that South Chicago would have presented a whole set of challenges. There is certainly a strong element of planned segregation in the Windy City.

In our many conversations about the time he's spent living in Chicago, L. continually returned to an emphasis on the people he chooses to be around. It doesn't matter to him that there are no obvious concentrations of like-minded folk living among each other in specific neighborhoods. His friends are scattered throughout the city. They meet up in the treasures hidden among the sprawling streets of gentrification. His people (many of whom are native midwesterners) are welcoming, generous and interesting. I suppose one can find folks like that in any place. But it's a credit to him and the city that such people are drawn together. I know one thing for sure- the next time someone brands Pittsburgh as a midwestern city (as happens on occasion), I'm going to be pleased rather than offended. That's actually a pretty nice compliment.