Whoever knows where the picture is from, grab a cookie from the shelf
I don't know about you, but for me, Chicago evokes persistent associations with gangsters (or as we call them, bandits) from the 30s in hats and with Thompson submachine guns. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then, but the charm still remains. Chicago is a beautiful city. Primarily because it has good colors - all shades of sandy. Light cream, brown, reddish-brown, dark auburn, and just a bit of simple gray.Don't believe me - see for yourself.
For authenticity, I'll provide one photo of my own, and I'll steal the rest from the internets in the form of Flickr
But, first things first.
We left for Chicago in the middle of the day to have time to check into the hotel and walk around a bit. We succeeded at this - the hotel is called DoubleTree, expensive and high-quality. True, the room cost $75+tax, but only thanks to the website www.priceline.com, which my sister uses. Regularly it would have cost *2 and up.
Author - Patrick Houlihan.
I sure am lucky with hooligans - see the upcoming part about Wisconsin Dells
Speaking of taxes. It's a well-known fact, of course, but the value-added tax in the US is very often not included in the prices. It's not large (5-10% depending on the state), and everyone knows about it, so it doesn't come as a surprise. Curiously, internet stores have to pay the tax of the state where the buyer is located. But in the early days of the internet, this wasn't so important, and it's hard to calculate anyway, so web stores paid nothing at all. On the one hand, they constantly want to shut down this free ride, because enough is enough. On the other hand, consumption needs to be stimulated, otherwise a drop in consumption could trigger a chain reaction of falling production and household incomes. Therefore, other forces constantly want to declare a tax moratorium for online stores. True, megacorporations still pay the tax right away, based on their home state.
When we arrived, there was exactly this kind of fog - looked just like a fire
Overall - it's not easy being a capitalist, consuming is too complicated. Bring on the biomass delivered through tubes straight into our mouths! Kidding, kidding, don't take it to heart. Anyway, ten thousand years of history of modern human civilization is nothing for the planet. Let's survive for at least a hundred thousand, then we can talk about squandering the planet's resources, but for now - we actually mean less than bugs to Mother Earth.
But I digress.
The Chicago subway is mostly elevated. Who didn't believe in the beauty of the color brown here?
Despite the fact that nine million people live in Chicago, that it's made of concrete and steel and is rightfully called the Windy Сity, I personally was left with a feeling of coziness and relaxation. You asked for personal impressions - here you go! Why - it's hard to say. If you can't live without a reason, "here, take it quickly". I'll even give you a few.
First of all, which is of course the theater of the absurd, but tourists are driven around Chicago for free in vintage-style buses called trolley, which actually translates as "tram".
Secondly, the city center doesn't seem large: half of the skyscrapers contain residential apartments, on the lakeshore there's a beach where people play various games in the evening, and if you walk a little bit, you can reach two whole different parks.
Thirdly, Americans generally walk around everywhere in simple shorts and T-shirts. In European cities people dress much fancier, and I feel like a provincial there. Chicago, of course, is a bit of an exception anyway - we saw people there in evening suits and just elegantly dressed in general, but not that many.
Whole crowds of great architects lived and created in Chicago, the most famous of whom is Frank Lloyd Wright, but everything looks organic. Even though I cunningly picked the photos specifically to confirm my sand-color theory, and didn't show the blue and black skyscrapers. And rightly so - they don't fit the vibe of the city anyway, in my opinion.
While we were walking along the Magnificent Mile, which is this massive tourist street with shiny boutique windows, such a wind blew that I actually got cold. And I hadn't brought my jacket from Madison, hoping for good weather. This prompted us to pop into the glamorous Macy's clothing department store and buy a little jacket in the color of Chicago. Strictly on sale, the jacket cost $50 - not too terrible.
Macy's a.k.a Marshall Fields in Chicago, Illinois
It's curious that the salespeople were charming middle-aged and older men in strict black suits. At the same time, my sister said they don't actually get paid that much, and why they aren't too lazy to look cool and make an impression is a mystery. I mean, one could theorize that the employer, in the form of Macy's, demands it, but it's really not that easy to achieve. In general, this is a double-edged issue. On the one hand, it's understandable that when you look sharp and talk to the customer in a way that makes them feel like they're at a summit rather than in a store, you yourself feel good and take pride in how you work. On the other hand, it's evil corporate exploitation, when people doing essentially menial and servile work are brainwashed into thinking they should do it perfectly and be happy about it. You should be happy about creativity, not about the fact that you pushed an evening dress onto an old, fat housewife with a bunch of kids, a dress she has nowhere to wear anyway and which won't even fit her.
Fairly soon we returned to the hotel, buying a sandwich at Subway on the way. In the room, a chocolate chip cookie that we were gifted at check-in was waiting for us, along with a coffee maker for one cup of water, with accompanying coffee and tea, including chamomile. The coffee, naturally, just had to emphasize that it was estate grown (BAM! slogan +1), meaning apparently grown on some special farm estate, rather than by impoverished Argentine peasants. In my opinion, it didn't make it taste any better.
"Warm. Fresh. Delicious." - the slogan reads.
Such a cookie is a traditional American treat, so it was quite fitting for comprehending the mysterious American soul. Naturally, even the cookie couldn't do without assurances and explanations. The packaging proclaimed that it's baked fresh every day, and that the cookie is a symbol of the downright paternal affection the hotel harbors for us. The cookie, truth be told, really is very delicious and you can buy or bake it. But that's no fun - it would be way cooler if you had to check into the hotel every time just to taste it. Alas, such subtle jokes are foreign to Americans - every little thing they have is aimed at squeezing dollars out of a person, except for the ones handed out for free to lure you in.