I went to the Chicago Blues Festival tonight and saw Bo Diddley play. He was great. For some reason, that wasn’t what stuck with me.
The thing that struck me more is how much I love Chicago. I bitch and whine about the weather, but tonight it was absolutely perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. Not humid, but not that nice skin-cracking dryness you get in mid-winter here.
It was an absolutely cloudless night, and the skyline just felt staggering. I grew up in a city (not a in a state, just a city) where the maximum height of buildings is capped at 13 stories, so I’m still somewhat in awe of how big every building here in Chicago is, but also how varied the skyline is.
At home, the skyline is just blandness pierced by the occasional monument, but here, it’s this great jumble of heights, everything coming together to form an utterly gorgeous line along the lake.
Everyone there was really nice (well, except the idiot who decided that Bo Diddley wasn’t good enough for him and started banging on his conga drum), and reminded me why I just like Chicago. The people are cool and laid-back, they seem to have a better appreciation for good music than most of the rest of the country, and some days it can just be breathtaking.
Now I just have to remind myself about this post when I’m trying to dig my car out of 3 feet of snow this winter…