Industrious Circles

On the wheels of the car, to the train, to the streets, wheels whizzing by, the L train clanking and roaring up above. Check out the streets of Chicago with Mom, looking at the architecture, looking for something to eat. Nice to just walk around a city I know, never really knew. Talk to the lady from Austin, off down Michigan Avenue. Pass the museums, to the Cultural center. First library of Chicago, iridescent light fills the minds of people, tiles and stained glass shining through the building. Outside, hop a cab, Soldier’s field an alien ship now, lake to the left, steely Chicago light everywhere, to Hyde Park, Barak’s neighborhood, cab driver says his house is off on 55th. We’re going to see the Science and Industry, like an old field trip. I could be on a big yellow bus when we pull up. Get inside, tool around the museum for a little. Train wheels, DNA strands and other industrious circles. Walk back out through Hyde Park, Mom and I imagine Barak as a student, as a teacher. See a bbq and bakery shop. Head in, looks closed, old man tells us it’s open, come on in. Warm smile, nobody inside, can we get coffee and a treat? Owner makes us fresh coffee and we talk to Sam. He’s 82 next month and celebrating early with a drink. So am I, we all have a laugh or two and I buy Sam a birthday drink. He says come around next month to celebrate our birthdays. I say I’ll check on you when you’re 92. Walk through the typical bitter wind of Chicago for a few minutes and hop another cab. Man doesn’t think Blago will be convicted, we joke about politics and Chicago. Wasn’t born here, but he’s been here for 32 years. I speak the language, but he’s been here for as long as I’ve been alive. He laughs, he chuckles about everything, even while serious. It is funny. See ya, hop the train, leaves on time. Ride the wheels back home, checking out the familiar accent of the people that I don’t know anymore, never really knew.