Cold in Chicago
As some of you know, I am in Chicago today and tomorrow for work, lovely work. I arose at 4 a.m. this morning to catch the 7 a.m. flight from National to get to Chicago in time for a 10 a.m. deposition. The day started poorly with the cab not arriving until so late that I gave up and drove myself to the airport. Grrr. Arrived at O'Hare to find that it took longer to drive into the city from the airport than it took to fly to Chicago from Washington to begin with. Also, arrived to find Chicago deep into winter already. People here are reveling in winter coats, scarves, hats, gloves, and leather boots. It is FREEZING. I was wearing nothing more than the fashionable black nylon topcoat that readers will recall that I purchased in San Francisco during my year of West Coast travel when faced with a similar bout of unexpectedly cold weather. But Chicago in October is even colder than San Francisco in September. The nylon black topcoat, standing alone, was not enough. To make matters worse, I noticed that every hip young Chicago woman was wearing the same black topcoat -- only they had large woolen sweaters on underneath it, and knee length leather Kenneth Cole boots. Grrr again.
The deposition was short -- the examining lawyer was particularly unskilled so nothing bad happened to my witness. I had the whole afternoon to myself. I checked into my hotel and changed my clothes. I put on every piece of clothing that I brought with me. I made a mockery of the concept of "the layered look." I looked out my hotel window at Lake Michigan (of which I have an unobstructed view) and saw white caps and a small craft warning. I turned up the heat. I wandered out onto Michigan Avenue looking like the Michelin Man in all my clothes (fortunately they matched -- all my clothes are black) and set off instantly in the direction of Bannana Republic. I bought a sweater and a scarf. I thought for a moment that the if the firm sent me out of town more often (which isn't really possible actually, unless they made me a into traveling salesman), I might end up with quite a nice wardrobe, thank you very much -- especially if I continue to be as unprepared for the weather as I have been in the last two years. Perhaps I should figure out where the Weather Channel is on my television....
On my way back from Banana Republic, I sat for a moment at the Water Tower. I love the Water Tower. It is lovely and small and white (limestone?) and people dressed up like Napoleonic soldiers sit astride horses and stand around it under chestnut treets. I'm not sure why. My perch was underneath a big advertisement for some store that sells...winter coats. The woman in the advertisement looked very warm, which made me jealous. After a while, a man for whom English is not his first language came up to me gesturing oddly with a look of amazement on his face. He pointed at me, and then at the advertisement. I thought -- inexplicably -- that he had seen my Banana Republic bag and was trying to ask me where the Banana Republic is. I said something helpful like "across the street." He continued gaping. Eventually I figured out that he thought I was the woman in the advertisement -- that I was a model sitting under my own advertisment, gloating. This embarassed me, somewhat. What idiot model would do that? He stumbled around under the Water Tower in front of me, stopping passersby and pointing at me and then the winter coat model. Eventually he came over to me and said, "Congratulations!" Weird.
I returned to my room with a view over the frigid lake and took a nap. Later, I went out to dinner with a friend of a friend...I drank wine to warm up and ate plates and plates and plates of pasta. I thought "Italian women are fat and happy and warm -- maybe if I eat enough I will be fat and happy and warm, too." I did become fat, so I suppose I was successful. I remarked to my dinner companion that Chicago is interesting because the women are very large -- either tall or broad, sometimes both -- and tan (why?) and have frosted hair and look happy. Also, they wear winter coats with style. The Chicagoans seems happy about the cold weather -- they are positively gleeful in their fur coats and car coats and their muffs and hoods and gloves. Also, they have much more variety in their coldweather gear than we do in D.C. Chicago women wear green coats, and brown coats, and red coats, and blue coats, and all kinds of trendy, warm, cozy footwear and various stylish forms of insulated trousers. They really know how to make a go of being cold here. In D.C., people have gray coats, or black coats and that's it. The occasional red coat is considered declasse. I have never seen a light green winter coat in Washington. And no-one smiles in winter in D.C. -- never. Winter is something to be borne and to be exclaimed over. "Man, it's cold!" people in Washington say. Here people just grin, and say "this isn't cold!"
My dinner companion explained this all by saying that in Chicago, people are relieved when winter comes. They don't have to wait for it any more -- it's here, and they can get down to the serious business of staying warm. They don't have to wonder if winter will be on time anymore. They don't have to wonder if winter will come slowly or fast, or whether their winter coats will still fit, or be in style. They don't have to wonder if they will miss the warm days of summer. Once winter is here, people feel that all is right with the world.The oddest thing of all about this cold day in Chicago is that it was also a beautiful day -- brilliant blue sky and sun. Also, the leaves all still have their green leaves on them. It was like being in a time warp -- the day looked like summer but it was in fact, winter. Much to the relief of everyone, apparently.
posted by Anonymous @ 11:50 PM
0 comments
