CHICAGO CARLESS

Chicago’s long-awaited Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial was dedicated this morning just across the river from my house, on Lower Wacker Drive between Wabash and State. I shot a bunch of pictures of the ceremony as I was walking to work.

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Why is it that great quotes always show up at inopportune moments? Like when you’ve finally decided just to shut your mouth about a subject that irks you to the core of your being for fear of your opinion being lumped in with those who would wish progress to roll backwards and return us to the days of unsliced bread, button-down shoes, and locally owned retail establishments.

The sheer horror of not being considered a modernist is almost too much to bear. I live in Marina City, for God’s sake. Mies sits across the street. I know fluorescent in the kitchen is my friend. I’ve already owned two iPods! But no matter. Open your mouth about the impending corporate murder–for that is what it is–of the Marshall Field’s nameplate by the evil retail overlords at Federated, and some heartbroken local will immediately insert their foot and wax on about childhood memories of shopping excursions with grandma to eat ice-cream-cone snowmen in the Walnut Room. To be followed with, “But the real Marshall Field’s is no more”.

Well, bunk.

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