On my walk to work this morning, I spotted a strange sight: a policeman, holding one of those mirrors on a stick (the kind you see in the movies, where they’re checking for bombs underneath cars). He was walking around the building at Washington and Clark, looking behind all the flower planters that were situated about seven or eight feet above the sidewalk.
Recently, one of the buildings where we have an office opened up their new rooftop deck. It’s meant to be used by anyone in the building with a keycard, and they had a bit of a shindig with the unveiling (lots of free food, giveaways, etc).
At first, I thought the crowd had blocked off State Street and the police were moving in to disperse them. After a few minutes, I realized that the police were part of the protest route and were simply bringing up the rear.
Liz and I met up with Julie and Bob for Mother’s Day a while back, and spent a leisurely day hanging out in Chinatown, Northerly Island, and then later in Hyde Park.
It was nice being in the city so early. Even though it was a solid three hours earlier than I’m usually around downtown, the city was still full of joggers and pedestrians, mothers with baby strollers, people clutching large cups of coffee.
“The cornerstone (or foundation stone) concept is derived from the first stone set in the construction of a masonry foundation, important since all other stones will be set in reference to this stone, thus determining the position of the entire structure.”
On my way out to lunch, I noticed a lot of police cars and fire trucks along State Street. I also noticed that the security guard in our building followed me outside, and was standing by the front door, looking at the commotion.
I went in and talked to the security guards at Block 37, and learned that the rooftop area is technically on the building… but belongs to a different company entirely. There is an apartment complex right next to the mall, called Marquee – and the rooftop belongs to them.
I’ve been able to peer down Wabash a few times during my commute, and I’ve always found it fascinating. Partly for the actual construction work going on, but also partly because I found myself imagining some distant time in the future.
In my head, I compare what I see now in the present tense, imagining some future day when this will seem incredibly old and antiquated.
I walked near another guy who was also looking up, and asked him if he knew what was going on (he didn’t). I explained that I saw all these folks staring up, but that I tried looking… and had no idea what they were all staring at.
Up until this point in time, it was another normal Wednesday at work, with me doing normal Wednesday things. Seeing this shook me out of my routine, and it was an absolute breath of fresh air. My only regret is that I couldn’t follow them, to see where they (and all their art) ultimately ended up.
I assume this sort of things happens all the time for people doing deliveries in downtown Chicago. But it was just funny to see a ticket on the windshield, and one in the cab that had still not been handled yet.
For some silly reason, I heard a narrator’s voice in my head saying things like “No one ever went to that train station, because the townspeople all knew it was haunted.”
A few days ago, while walking to work, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I was at Wabash and Washington, and something just seemed… a little off.