SHOW ME YOUR ASS WINNETKA!

i often felt as if i had been born into the wrong era; as if my own personal style of life had been lost in the tumult of this modern age.... i just thought of that. i think it sounds pretty impressive, especially when read from a biography that might someday be written about me. well, that plus the fact that i've just been reading a few old-timey books to pass the time tonight.

and i enjoy self-agrandizing now and then.

anyway, to the ass we go...

the metra north from downtown chicago to kenosha is a fine place to find yourself, that is it's a fine place to find yourself wedged between multiple felons while you look out the window at the ass of northeastern illinios. no one wants to live or work near a high-speed train line, you understand, so no one builds anything remotely scenic along the line. instead you get to see all the rusted-out tin shacks behind equally dark warehouses of equally dark contents decorated with rotten, rusted-out corpses of giant mid-70's puke-green-with-brown-trim sedans. it was somewhere around winnetka when i realized how just absolutely god forsaken the scene turned out to be.

i had a pretty decent view from my customary top-level seat on the train, and as i looked ahead down the track i noticed three men taking a cigarette break behind the plant/warehouse/factory/shitbox in which they were working. one of the men was making some kind of rhythmic gesture at the passing train, and as i strained to decipher his semaphoric code, i realized he was making the 'thumbs up' sign with his left hand and broad, sweeping jerk-off motions with his right. well done there, my man, well done.

i felt suddenly grateful to be boarding a plane for boston that night where i knew i'd be spared the ass of all major metropolitan areas between lake michigan and the eastern seaboard.

i sure hope that guy finds whatever it is he's looking for in life. keep reaching for that rainbow, guy.