On my train ride to life as an adult, I attempted to appreciate little nuances of things I could see out the car window.
First glimpse: the ghost town of abandoned homes with overgrown lawns and unkept roads. I imagine children playing at the empty park, laughing and running after one another. Over on the cold bench is a mom comforting a pouting three-yr-old who didn’t get his turn on the slide. At the house on the corner a man is getting the morning paper while waving awkwardly at his neighbor across the street picking up the droppings of the family labradoodle. I imagine maybe that’s how it used to be.
Second glimpse: the cause of the previous void: a major hub of busy air travel. Despite my fresh resentment for said effects and unsaid memories of this expanding center of lonely travelers, I can’t help but hold my breath in awe as a giant metal bird approaches head-on and rises above. I imagine myself departing, as well.
Third glimpse: the young couple in a gentle embrace. Though seen only for a moment, their presence sparked my thoughts. Maybe in my brain’s center for hormone releasement, dopamine is blocked so oxytocin spews out resulting in an unusual attachment to fleeting presences in my life. How does one consciously chose to thwart their body’s hormone production. I imagine prayer is the only option.
It occurred to me as I exited the station having arrived at my final destination, that my youthful ways of joyful appreciation for the commonplace and mundane may have stayed at my departing location.
The former Chef at the Hull-House is now cooking for the Obamas in DC. I was told today that the Obamas would come to the Hull-House on occasion to be dined by former HH chef Sam Kass and current HH chef Tara Lane.
The Hull-House is much cooler than we learned about in school…