Deadsplinter Up! All Night: My Trip to Chicago

I drove on LSD

I took one of my seasonal trips to my hometown last week. It was pretty great. All that stuff you hear about how it’s become crime-ridden dystopia are way exaggerated. It’s no more of a crime-ridden hellhole than it’s always been.

It was a nice drive up there with Spring weather all the way. My wife had to teach so I got to go alone. It’s shocking how long the trip can take when you stop at every casino and gentleman’s club along the way.

I got to see a lot of the old gang.

I stayed in the Little Italy neighborhood. Stopped to have an espresso with an old pal at the social club on Taylor Street. We realized that we have now become the old guineas that we used to laugh at when we were kids. But I had a fantastic meal at a favorite Italian restaurant.

I went to a club to hear the band of a friend of mine. They were pretty good. I stayed out past 10pm, too! Here’s a cut from their new album:

Went to visit my last living aunt. She lives in the past. Here is one corner of her living room (really):

Saw my daughter. She’s a beautiful grown woman, but when she calls me up I still see the little toddler with the missing tooth and Prince Valiant haircut her mom gave her.

Got to go shopping in a store besides Walmart or Rural King. Bought myself a nice pork-pie hat that I will never wear on the farm because the donkeys would laugh at me.

After a week though I missed the farm and my wife and home. On the trip back I experience every single kind of precipitation possible – rain, snow, sleet, hail. Now I’m here and everything is green and the weather is nice and I have to mow the goddamn lawn.

There is no theme to tonight’s DUAN. Just my little City Walk (h/t to @bluedogcollar). You play whatever you like. It’s always good.



  1. This is very late but my insomnia and this insane project I signed up for has me up at crazy hours and passed out while most people on the East Coast are up and at ’em. I love Chicago, though I haven’t been in a while. I think I’ve mentioned before that if some god banished me from New York but granted me the ability to live somewhere else in the US I would pick Chicago or LA. I know Boston, Washington, and SF pretty intimately and I don’t think I could hack that. I’ve never been to Pacific NW but when one of my best buddies moved to Portland, OR, (he’s since moved on) he begged me to visit and assured me that I would despise it and everything it stands for. He was probably right, because I was a big fan of Portlandia, and he assured me that it wasn’t a parody, it was almost documentary-level faithful to what he was experiencing. He enjoyed it, but he is a white upper-middle-class laptop warrior with lefty views, a “bourgeois bohemian,” so he fit right in.

    “What about the phrase, ‘Keep Portland Weird’?” I naively asked.

    “Oh, it’s weird, alright, but in a very homogenous way. It’s almost theocratic. What would be really weird is if someone said in public that they were voting for John McCain [this was 2008, I guess] or didn’t see the point of veganism. Or had a full-time salaried job, for that matter.”

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