Exactly how you "show off" a central city that's boarded up, locked down and darkened, I don't know. But all my worst nightmares are coming true. It's a good thing I have no special occasions this weekend, because my hair salon--Aniko at 11th and Wabash--has all it's windows boarded up for five days. Closed for business, needless to say. They must be quite fearful to voluntarily give up almost an entire week of income.
All the metal newspaper boxes outside Starbucks at Roosevelt and Wabash are gone. Only the plastic ones, with second tier reading material are there. So I can't get my weekly Reader. One of the few pieces of reading matter I still read in the primitive paper form, for old time's sake.
It would have been a good weekend to catch up on some nearby gallery exhibits I have been meaning to get to. Like the one at the National Veteran's Art Museum. But it will be closed for business, too. And the Museum Campus
--our greatest municipal treasure--is on lockdown, as well; even the Field Museum, which had vowed to stay closed for only one day, has added another. But there's no point in staying open because all routes over there are going to be closed.
I wish I could get over to McCormick Place during the summit
and ask the world leaders what they think of Chicago. You know, that toddlin' (ghost) town, so oft covered in plywood.
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