this afternoon i got a haircut and massage, both nice little treats after a few long weeks and i walked out of there totally delirious thanks to the massage, and strolled out into the bright light of a sunny summer saturday on michigan avenue. downtown chicago at its finest. i considered jumping on a double-decker tour, took a long pause when i passed by the ticket booth. very enticing. there was also reason to pause at the hancock building, there’s a tiny pavilion at its base, an orchestra pit about twenty feet deep with four restaurants and a welcome center. and there was a woman in traditional indian clothes dancing, swirling, shaking her hair out while her band played. there was a breeze and it ruffled her purple silk dress almost in time to the music. the balcony was lined with people transfixed by her. it was a moment of hedonistic abundance, i had time. and money. and leisure. i felt pretty. relaxed. hopeful.
the sidewalk was crowded and i kept walking, went up a block to water tower to find a bite to eat when at the bus stop i heard a sound and looked over to see an older man vomit against the glass backing of the bus stop shelter. he had such a pitiful expression, he was so old looking and defeated, he seemed completely uninterrupted by his own sickness.
i ignored lunch, came home, took a shower and a long nap. made dinner. and started praying.
Yahweh, why? what’s going on here? i know it was just a moment in a city, slice-of-life kind of thing, but my God, look to your children.
i know it’s dramatic, but with my friends i have seen so many things. so many sad, terrible, causeless and effectless things – i have developed such a passport in my soul that i have become very hard to shock. and today i was shocked.
there’s no one really to tell so i tell it here. sorry if the story offended anyone.