Take a Walk Tulsa

For eight years I’ve lived in Los Angeles and in that time I’ve never seriously considered living anywhere else. Los Angeles has everything I need; warm weather, equal amounts of cheap eats and fine foods, easy access to two major league baseball teams, a lovely women who married me and a wonder dog named Daisy.

While Los Angeles is home, in my head there has been a list of cities that I’d consider moving to if circumstances made living in LA unbearable, circumstances such as the closing of all of the Chicken and Waffle places if the hobo thank you card* was outlawed. The list of cities I’d consider moving to has included New York, Tulsa, and the mythical land of Pinball and Trampolines but after spending three days in the greater Chicago area I’ve amended my list. Tulsa was unfortunately knocked out of second place after my first visit to downtown Chicago. Nina took me into downtown Chicago yesterday morning and showed me around for a while before we headed to the cool comfort of the Art Institute of Chicago, for some culture and lunch.

Being born and raised in the Shadow of New York City I have very specific requirements for what makes a city great: First the train stations have to smell like urine on a hotplate. The second thing a great city has is food being sold in the streets and finally; every truly great city has crazy people on the streets telling passersby about Jesus. Chicago has all of these things and much more and I haven’t even been there at night yet. Sorry Tulsa, you’re in 3rd place now.

(Hobo Thank You Card = Handjob from a hobo)