Tuesday, March 17, 2009

72 degrees

I live in the most vibrant neighborhood in all of Chicago. If you close your eyes the sounds resemble Mexico. If you open them it looks like Mexico.

It was golden hour and 72 degrees. It smelt like everyone in my neighborhood was grilling out and every stereo was playing music. Each family sat on their doorstep while the kids roller bladed, skateboarded, or juggled their coveted soccer ball. Every color was even more deeply saturated by the light. Two hundred people at least were in the 18th street park. I sat and watched a soccer game. I guess no one can believe the winter is over. I am thinking that everyone waits for this day once the temperature starts dipping in late fall.

I rode down an alley where a family practiced their dance for what I could imagine was a wedding or quinceanera . They had a small stereo and the mother and father watched the couples dance. I passed by it twice because I wasn't sure I had even seen something like that.

Will, Hunt, Robin and myself frequented the Mexican Bakery a block away from my house this weekend. We were feeding three people with a couple pastries each for under $4.

I have kept hearing that Chicago just blows up in the summer and I can't help but believe it now that I've seen it.

I can also understand Paul D'Amato's obsession with this neighborhood.

No comments: