The markets were closed for the Juneteenth holiday yesterday. That gave me a free pass to hop on the train and Han Solo my way into the city, back into the heart of my old stomping grounds. I wanted to visit some of my haunts, see what was left standing and witness firsthand how dilapidated Chicago had become since Mayor Daley handed it over to the progressive movement. I wanted to see post-COVID Chicago.
And boy, did I see it.
I got off the train with the few remaining downtown workers. Most of them looked like young IT workers and computer geeks. Everyone was casually dressed with backpacks and earbuds.
These young kids...
They shuffle down the sidewalks with the posture of a question mark, heads buried deep in TikTok. Empty storefront after empty storefront windows pasted with "For Lease" signs like bandages on a corpse. What was depressing before COVID has now settled into full on decay.
I found refuge in my old cigar shop. Thank God it was open. I lit up a smoke next to a young guy who told me he was born in December 1996. I pointed across the street to a building and told him we opened a trading floor in that spot when he was just three months old. He nodded respectfully, but he couldn't grasp what it meant. I guess you had to be there. I've turned into those traders that were born in the 1910's and 1920's. The old timers that were fossilized by the time that I showed up on their trading floor. Sometime during the Reagan Administration.
I left the thick smell of cigars behind and made my way to the Chicago Board of Trade building. The famous joint in the lobby was closed for Juneteenth. I was a little bummed. I had a craving for corned beef hash and some eggs over easy. Then it hit me… it probably saved me from disappointment. That place had been going downhill for ten years. Long before COVID showed up with its wrecking ball.
I walked across the Loop, passing the usual mix of beggars and junkies baking in the morning sun. There were groups of tourists as well... jean shorts, tank tops, SEC hats and a twangy, "Dang, that sure is a tall building!"
Moving too slow and clogging up the sidewalk.
But today, I was on holiday. I had no agenda.
Just a former trading floor guy searching for ghosts...
...colorful trading coats, pit noise and that old energy of Chicago grit and hustle.
Eventually, I made it to Buckingham Fountain. Sat on my usual bench and cued up Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, a tradition I started decades ago. It began with a Walkman, moved to a Discman, then an iPod… and now it lives on in Spotify. I’ve sat there and watched Chicago through every season...
....wet and gray in spring
....warm and electric in summer
....burning and decaying in fall
....and bone white and brisk in winter.
The city has changed, no doubt, but maybe the better word is grown.
I had lunch under the screeching of the overhead CTA tracks at Miller’s Pub on Wabash Avenue. Still standing with its old school charm and tribute to Bill Veeck at the end of the bar. It was darkened by the wooden walls and dimmed lights. Stiff drinks and heavy lunches with very few vegan selections on the menu.
Inside were a few groups of men, probably here for a convention. An older couple dressed like they still believed in looking presentable for the city. Slacks, dresses, summer sandals and pressed materials.
After lunch, I wandered up Wabash to the river and followed its bend back toward Union Station.
My field trip was over.
I realized something on that walk. Not only has Chicago grown, but so have I.
Grown older.
Grown out of a world that doesn't exist anymore. For any Board of Trade alumni reading this... you’re not missing a damn thing.
The floor is gone.
The flood of trading jackets between buildings is gone.
The coffee shops, newsstands, greasy spoons, and backroom taverns?
Gone.... and I will say it again.... We are not missing a F'ing thing.
But one thing hasn’t changed.
The way the sun scrapes across the city around the longest day of the year. The Summer Solstice still delivers its light like it always has and like it always will. It might just hit different facades and taller buildings after we leave. That was another thing that hit me on my field trip.
After we leave.
For we may be from Chicago, but we are only here for a time being to nurture it, to use it, to bask in it.
I was gifted a real education yesterday. A field trip more powerful than any that I took to the museums in grade school. I walked through a living history exhibit. My own historical account and boy have I been lucky to be a part of something special.
Go out and continue to search for astonishment. Don’t worry about change and strive for growth.
Shabbat Shalom.
