Yesterday, as the sun was rising over Chicago, I drove up the ramp onto Lake Shore Drive from Lawrence Ave. At this early hour, I was tolerating NPR’s membership pledge drive, considering any unresolved issues from our recent lab move, and cursing the CTA bus that just cut me off, when I saw something so amazing, so wonderful, that all of my worries and complaints melted away.
I had dreamed of this day for years, and driving in Chicago for several months only intensified my longing. But I was resigned to the improbability of it. In 11 years of driving, I had never witnessed the event, and nobody I had ever spoken to had either. But yesterday, the devil’s gaze must have been distracted somehow. I won’t blame you if you don’t believe what I’m about to tell you, but I was there to see the result.
A City of Chicago police officer had pulled over a taxi cab. And he had his ticket book out. And he was screaming at the cab driver.
Oh the glory of it all! If I ever see such a beautiful scene, I will surely go blind.