Old man yells at cloud
Indy is a classic midwestern city, sprawling and laid out on an unrelenting grid pattern with a few diagonal streets for variety. US40, the current alignment of the old National Road cuts through from east to west.
If you look hard enough, you can find neighborhoods form every period from the mid-1800’s to the present. Historic districts here have the typical midwestern sensibility (“people still have to live there so let’s not turn it into Disneyland”).
What is it about the midwest which fascinates me so? Maybe it’s the flatness or the greenness or the way that cities develop so differently than anywhere else in the country. Or maybe it’s the people there: friendly, giving, unpretentious people who’ve never met a stranger. Frankly, as I’ve said before, I often think the south is overrated in this department. Aah, but I’ll get back to this…
Indianapolis was great. Bob kept me in fine style at the Renaissance Tower due to an unhappy plaster moment in the guest room. During my two-plus days in the heartland of America, I was treated to a coast to coast tour of Indiana, from Terre Haute to Richmond. There were motels on Highway 40, tenderloins in Greensburg, a street fair in Indy, and cheap cigarettes everywhere.
Indiana more or less has created its own time zone by refusing to acknowledge Daylight Savings Time. This was a little odd as I changed my clock when I crossed into Eastern time, and then had to change it back when I realized the rules didn’t apply here.
Once in, though, my inner clock somehow managed to adjust, and I actually managed to get a fair amount of rest while still seeing many things. I feel I covered Indiana more thoroughly than just about anyplace else on the tour, thanks to an extra day and a determined host.
The first brought a street fair in Fountain Square, a historic commercial district near downtown Indianapolis. There were bands, cute boys, and a really cool store devoted to 50’s memorabilia which even contained a working bowling alley and soda fountain. The corner market with $1.60 a pack Camels was a big bonus too.
This night also brought my first look at neon Indianapolis. I was pleased. There is a quite respectable amount of 40’s/50’s/60’s roadside architecture here.
Snapshots of Indianapolis included some great motels and drive-ins, including the soon-to-be -demolished Al Green’s, the always appropriate White Castle, and Speedway IN, home of…surprise…the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. David’s pick du jour: few things could compare with a meal at Shapiro’s; I’m not sure why I was so surprised to find a really good Kosher deli here, but I’m glad it was!
Two and a half days in Chicago, and I’m not sure if the town ever once toddled, but I like it there anyway. So much so, in fact, that I’d consider moving there in an instant if (again) the weather weren’t so severe. I can deal with the cold and the snow; it’s the summers that would get me. Fortunately, at least on this visit, things were just right. Last time, it got a little cool and I was a little rushed.
I didn’t cover nearly as much ground as I’d have liked, simply because I just didn’t figure in enough time there. I was also unable to connect with Gary or Curt. But the accommodation and guided tour, courtesy of Joe, my host, were great. I predict another visit to the windy city very soon; I have to admit the place fascinates me tremendously.
Diving into Woolworth’s downtown proved to be rewarding. It’s really depressing that this American institution is about to disappear forever. I almost picked up a lunch counter stool for $35, but decided I didn’t really want to carry it around the country and back in my back seat. I’ll probably come to regret that decision.
There was also a visit to the first Ray Kroc McDonald’s franchise in Des Plaines. Contrary to popular belief, this was neither the first McDonald’s (that was in San Bernadino), nor the first McDonald’s franchise (which I believe was in Sacramento). It was, however, the beginning of the evil empire we know today as McDonald’s Corp.
Much-anticipated was my return to return to Big Chicks, which may be my favorite queer bar between New York and San Francisco. This time, I even met one of the owners. She was fairly big, but not huge.
The Chicago Reader is without doubt the best free weekly in the country, putting even the Village Voice to shame.
A few more highlights:
Chicago is an amazing place, which is unlike any other city of its size in the US. The fact that land was so abundant has resulted in an unusually sprawling city by east coast standards, but still a very dense and concentrated one compared to the rest of the midwest and west. The streetscapes are wonderful and colorful, the road system works, and driving around the city is a joy I might never tire of; there’s something to see around every corner, from neatly-maintained rowhouses to industrial wastelands to the severe decay of the south side projects. Like I said, Chicago just fascinates me.
And there was also my moment at the very start of Route 66 at Lakeshore Drive and Jackson Boulevard. It’s a little disorienting to do Route 66 out of sequence, but it’s better than not at all, I guess.
All in all, it was an eventful couple of days. And, after a drive through the depressing landscape of the south side and the Indiana suburbs, followed by a few hours of Indiana farmland, I have now successfully reached Indianapolis, where I’m living in the lap of luxury thanks to Bob. The Hoosier adventure begins in earnest tomorrow.
This morning, I hit the road early en route to Milwaukee (which kept my interest for about half an hour, I’m disappointed to say) and then Chicago, which is where I now sit, in a creepy mall in the suburb of Skokie, waiting for Joseph to get off work so I can dump my stuff and begin the next round of the tour.
They call Madison “the Berkeley of the East”, due to its leftist campus politics, etc. This was in fact the first city in the US to have a municipal gay rights ordinance on the books.
It’s definitely an attractive place. The city surrounds an isthmus between two lakes. Thus, there is s a very pronounced east and west side, and travel between the two is sometimes difficult thanks to the bottleneck caused by locating downtown on the isthmus.
Given all this, it’s interesting to see how strangely conservative the place appears on the surface. I saw much more “collegiate preppy” than “collegiate punk”. I didn’t really sample the gay scene here, being warned that most of the interesting nightlife options perished in the Hotel Washington fire a couple of years ago.
I did cruise the State Street campus strip a bit and also found a few thrift stores and an excellent used book store, Shakespeare’s, where I scored an original 1964 New York World’s Fair guidebook pretty cheap.
Definitely a nice enough place.