The Brouhaha

This city has gone into a tizzy the likes of which we haven't seen since "art lovers" were invited to take a peek up Marilyn Monroe's dress in Pioneer Court a few years ago. Unless you have a fetish for hairpieces, this latest scandal may not be as titillating, but highly entertaining just the same. In case you've been under a rock for the past few weeks, a huge sign bearing the letters T R U M P has been placed on the south facade of the building on the Chicago River known as Trump Tower. Since its conception and realization, Chicago Tribune architectural critic Blair Kamin has waged a one-man crusade against the sign, and the man whose name happens to be spelled out when you put those letters together, real estate magnate Donald Trump. Since Trump became aware of Kamin's objection to the sign, the two have been involved in a bitter, sometimes comical battle of words that has gone viral, even getting the attention of late night comedian John Stewart. Rahm Emanuel, the Mayor of Chicago has even jumped into the fray,  lambasting the sign and claiming to begin work on an ordinance that would prevent the construction of similar signs in the future, despite having at least tacitly approved of the sign when plans of it were originally presented to him a few years ago.

From what I can tell, the public reaction seems to favor the mayor and the critic over the Donald. Descriptions I've heard used to describe the sign include: "in poor taste", "an eyesore", "a blight", "an embarrassment", and "schlock". One writer claimed the sign "induced a gag reflex." Some people dabbling in Freudian psychology suggest the size of the sign represents compensation for its owner's small penis. A friend of mine whose office sits at the same level directly across the river from the sign told me: "I'm just pissed that I have to look at that asshole's name every day."

I may be wrong but could it possibly be that people object to Donald Trump more than the sign? Let's say those letters spelled out the names of less controversial, more popular folks in town, names like:

T O E W S, or K A N E, or the most famous resident of Trump's building:

R O S E.

Would the reaction be the same?

How about Chicago literary giants like:

H E C H T, or A L G R E N, B R O O K S, or R O Y K O?

Or the folks we claim as our own who helped make this world a better place:

A D D A M S, R O S E N W A L D,  or W E L L S.

Donald Trump inserting himself into a classic Chicago street scene

I bet even names of local politicians would sit easier than Trump's, say perhaps:

a D A L E Y, or a W A S H I N G T O N, or a B Y R N E for example.

In fact I can think of only one name that might be less tolerated than Trump's. That name would be:

B L A G O J E V I C H.

Could be something about the hair.

After reading this I'm sure you're all on the edge of your seats wondering where I stand on this very important issue. Are you ready? OK here goes:

I don't like the sign.

That's all.

No I don't think it's an affront to the good citizens of our fair city. I don't consider it blight, and since I have no personal knowledge of Mr. Trump's endowment below the belt-line, I have no opinion on that issue either.

In addition to the sign, there are lots of other things I don't like about the built environment of this city, but I would not suggest a law to ban such things. I don't like the building recently built on 73 East Lake street that blocks my once cherished view of the Lincoln Tower from Garland Court. I don't like the building at 444 North Michigan which swallows up the magnificent silhouette of the Wrigley Building. Perhaps the worst building in Chicago is the deplorable Doral Plaza at Michigan and Randolph, a building that would be more at home in your typical edge city built around an airport than in the middle of Chicago with its concentration of great works of architecture. Old timers will remember a time before that sad excuse for a building was built, when there was an enormous Coca-Cola sign on the site. At the south end of Grant Park, directly opposite the Coke sign, there was an equally large Pepsi-Cola sign. In my opinion, those two signs were VASTLY better than what replaced them. Where the Prudential Building now stands, there once was a gigantic Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer sign. OK in that case I prefer the Prudential Building which not only has a large sign of its own, but also a magnificent relief sculpture of the Rock of Gibraltar, the symbol of the company that built and named the building.

Forty years ago, many of the buildings bordering Grant Park along South Michigan Avenue had large signs mounted on their roofs. Most of the buildings of Chicago are not temples, they are manifestations of the commercial entities that built and maintain  them. The signs that advertise the goings on inside those buildings reflect that fact which is form following function at its purest.  I have fond memories of those signs from my childhood and unlike Blair Kamin, I don't think the South Michigan Avenue landscape today necessarily benefits from their absence.

Back to Trump's sign, I do think that it aesthetically detracts from an otherwise fine building. Trump Tower, which I'm certain many (but not Blair Kamin) have blasted simply because of its provenance, is in fact one of my favorite recent buildings in Chicago. The architect Adrian Smith gave us a soaring structure that doesn't overwhelm. It's the second tallest building in Chicago, yet it doesn't seem that, unless you are at a great distance and can judge the relative heights of our four behemoth 1,000 plus foot high buildings together. T.Tower's reflective steel and glass facade looks different at all times of the day and in varying weather conditions. It provides a graceful climax not only to Wabash Avenue from both the south and from the north, but even all the way up in our neck of the woods, Rogers Park, where from twelve miles away the building looks as if Ridge Avenue runs straight into it.

Smith is responsible for a number of high profile projects all over the world. In Chicago, he was the principal architect of the AT&T Corporate Center, NBC Tower, Olympia Center (home of the Neiman Marcus Michigan Avenue Store), as well as creating the master plan for Millennium Park. But he is perhaps most well known as the architect of Burj Kalifa in Dubai, far and away the world's tallest building.

Cropped, with a whole new meaning

Adrian Smith has publicly denounced Trump's sign. Of all the inane comments that came out of Trump's mouth since the battle over the sign, the one that takes the cake is this: "I had more to do with the design of that building than Adrian Smith did. The best thing that ever happened to Adrian Smith is Donald Trump."

One of my favorite quotes about rich people is this one from the movie Citizen Kane:

Any fool can make a lot of money if all he wants to do, is make a lot of money.

Now I'm not entirely sure Donald Trump is a fool but one thing is certain, his foolish behavior gets him a lot of attention. And if there's anything that Trump craves more than money, it's attention.

Which is why making a big deal about the sign plays right into Trump's hands. Donald Trump could not care less what you and I think. He cares about what Blair Kamin and Adrian Smith think only insofar as what kind of mileage he can get off their remarks.

Trump reminds me of the leader of an all-harmonica band we used to go to see on the far south-east side of Chicago, under the shadow of the Skyway. At the end of every set he would tell the audience: "Thank you ladies and gentleman. If you liked us, tell your friends. If you hated us tell your enemies. Either way we get the business."

According to the comedian John Mulaney, this is how Donald Trump got to be Donald Trump:

 Donald Trump is what a hobo imagines what a rich man to be. He (Trump) was walking in the ally one day, and heard this.
Hobo - "Oh boy oh boy, as soon as my numbers come in, I am going to put up tall buildings and put my name on em. I'll have fine, golden hair, and a tv show where I fire people with my children."
Donald Trump was like, "That is how I'm going to live my life. Thank you hobo for the life plan."

Donald Trump is a self-caricature, the kind of guy who proudly models himself after the prototypical villain you might find in a Frank Capra movie.

In the end, just another sign on Wabash Avenue

For his part, Blair Kamin also has an agenda. He has his own books to sell and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to see his fame and sales of his publications on the upswing because of his tiff with Trump. Heck, unlikely as it may seem, maybe even some newspapers might get sold thanks to the feud. The feud which is now bordering on the insufferable, seems to be mutually beneficial to both men. But as far as I'm concerned, it's much ado about nothing. Signs have been a part of the visual clutter of the urban landscape for better or worse for time immemorial and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. Some of them, I dare say, are even beautiful. Yes Trump's sign detracts from Trump's building to be sure, but it's his building and as long as he doesn't hurt anybody, I suppose he has every right to do with it whatever he wants. As John Stewart suggested to irate Chicagoans: "...it's Donald Trump for God's sake, haven't you people ever been to New York?"



Someday, the building will no longer be his and the new owner most likely will remove the sign. Maybe the new sign if there is one, will reflect something more uplifting, perhaps a name like this one:

I S K A.

Kind of has a ring to it don't you think?

Way to go Governor Walker

This article in the Milwaukee-Wisconsin Journal Sentinel slams the transportation priorities of the current administration up in the Badger State, claiming Wisconsin's ever diminishing funding for public transportation in favor of highway spending is hurting the state as young, educated individuals are increasingly looking to live in places that are: "more walkable, bikeable and transit-friendly communities where lifestyles are less dependent on driving." Consequently the folks who were enticed to Wisconsin by its excellent educational institutions, are looking elsewhere to live once they graduate.

Another article from Madison's Capital Times notes that Talgo, a train manufacturing company has shuttered its plant in Milwaukee as a result of Governor Scott Walker's refusal of 810 million dollars in federal money targeted toward high speed rail construction. According to the article:

Talgo is now suing the state for $65 million for the state's reneging on its Talgo contract, and Wisconsin has to foot the bill for a multimillion-dollar maintenance facility and handicap accessibility upgrade at the Milwaukee station, all of which would have been covered by the $810 million federal grant.

Not to say I told you so, but you know what?

I told you so.

Flyover II

I just finished writing an argument against the building of a rail overpass (the Brown Line Flyover) that the CTA plans to build just north of the Belmont rapid transit station that serves the transit agency's Red, Brown and Purple Line trains. 

In a nutshell, I oppose the building of this structure as the cost in terms of federal money, displaced homes and businesses, and the destruction of part of a neighborhood, did not justify the net gain of the project, amounting to only about 30 seconds of commute time on those lines. 

Here is a 2011 article written by Ed Zotti from the Chicago's free weekly, the Reader, that describes a complete overhaul of the Red, Brown and Purple Lines. In a scheme that Zotti and his colleagues exhaustively created, the three lines are reconfigured to more adequately serve the needs of riders on both the north and the south sides of town. 

As a patchwork, temporary fix that the CTA currently proposes, the overpass makes little sense. However when integrated into a visionary plan for the future as it is presented in Zotti's article, it may be something worth considering. 

Buyer beware however, the overhaul comes at a cost measured in the billions, not the millions. 

Money worth spent in my opinion but I may be in the minority on this one.

Brown Line Flyover

After years on the drawing table, the Chicago Transit Authority has recently announced plans to build a new structure on the elevated tracks shared by the Red, Purple and Brown lines at the Clark Junction just north of Belmont Avenue. The structure would be built for north-bound Brown Line trains, elevating them above three sets of active tracks which they currently must switch across in order to continue on their journey culminating at Lawrence and Kimball Avenues in the Albany Park neighborhood on the city's north side.

The CTA puts a price tag of 320 million dollars on the project which if realized, would necessitate the demolition of at least sixteen buildings in the Lakeview neighborhood. That's too much money and sacrifice some critics suggest, to eliminate the average 84 second delay the CTA claims that riders on all three lines experience today. The CTA would no doubt counter that when you multiply those 84 seconds by the combined daily ridership of the three affected lines, (around 400,000), it turns out to be quite a few saved seconds indeed.

A friend of mine who works in the transit industry, but not for the CTA, posted a comment on Facebook stating that a handful of shortsighted people, i.e.:  neighborhood residents, preservationists and other concerned citizens, are standing in the way of a much needed project that will greatly improve the lives of everyone who rides those lines.

"I can authoritatively say..." said my friend, "...trust me, you want this." Calling opponents of the plan the "mental midgets," he claimed that the flyover not only will allow for a 15 to 30 second reduction of commute time (he apparently doesn't buy the CTA estimate, and for the record neither do I), but it will also allow the system to run more trains on those lines, further reducing wait times and delays.

Sounds promising doesn't it?

Well at the risk of sounding like a mental midget, I for one am not so sure. Now I'm far from an expert on the running of a railway, unless you count the number of hours I've spent with model trains. However I am very well versed in delays, especially those on the Red, Purple and Brown Lines, all of which I ride regularly. Please indulge me for a moment to prove my point:

As my morning commute begins at the Howard Street station, the terminus of the Red Line, I have the option of taking either the Red or the Purple Line to work in Chicago's Loop. If the transit gods are with me, which is usually not the case, a Purple Line train arrives at the station just as I get there. That train runs express (so to speak) to Belmont where if I'm lucky, a Red Line train will be waiting. There, if I'm willing to give up my seat, I'll switch over to that train since the trip to the Loop from Belmont is much quicker on the Red Line as it has fewer stops and takes a less circuitous route than the Purple. If my connections are good and there are no delays that day, again the exception not the rule, I can make it to work door to door, in a tad under an hour.

Between the two lines, the average difference in transit time from Howard to Belmont is approximately equal to the amount of time that the Purple Line trains are spaced apart, meaning that theoretically, if I miss a Purple Line train at Howard, the odds should be good that it's no worse than a break-even proposition to wait for the next one, rather than to board a Red Line train already at the station. (Red Line trains are spaced much closer together). Furthermore, a lot of passengers not boarding the Red Line at Howard is a good sign that its been a while since the last Purple Line left the station, and the odds should be good that another one is coming soon. Therefore it stands to reason that waiting for a Purple Line at Howard should be a good bet.

But alas, despite all the thought put into deciding which train to take, choosing between the Red and the Purple Line at Howard is little more than a crap shoot. There have been many times when I've waited twenty to thirty minutes for a Purple Line train with no explanation for the delay, all the while watching countless Red Line trains leave the station. There have been other times when after just missing a Purple Line, I've boarded a Red Line train, only to have it passed by three or four Purple Line trains before Belmont.

My point is this: the most frustrating thing for a commuter is not the amount of time of the commute, but inconsistency. It's nice to know that if you leave home at a given time, you will arrive at your destination in a set amount of time, give or take a minute or two. Delays of course are an inevitable part of commuting, but some of them, like the one at the Clark Junction are predictable and can be calculated into your commute time. Frankly in the ten years I've been riding this route, I can't remember ever being held up at that junction more than one or two minutes at the very most. Quite often like this week, going to and from work, there were no delays at all at the junction.

Since I do consider myself something of an authority on this very particular subject, I can say without reservation that the delay caused by waiting for Brown Line trains crossing over the tracks at the Clark Junction is definitely one of the LEAST significant delays during my commute.

Far more annoying are the unexpected delays when a train of any color line stands between stations anywhere along the line for five, ten, or more minutes. More often than not the operator will explain (if he or she bothers to), that the delay is caused by a backup of trains ahead. Ah you say, but if the new overpass is built, it would eliminate many of those backups. But from my experience, the most serious delays in the morning occur past the junction, when Brown and Purple Line trains all vie for the same right of way. Since southbound Brown Line trains are the only trains going through the junction that are not affected by the crossover, it's difficult to imagine how a backup of those trains could possibly be caused by the crossover.

On the ride home, by far the biggest irritant is trains backing up at Howard Street. Three lines use that station, in addition to the ones mentioned above, the Yellow Line, formerly known as the Skokie Swift, like the Red Line uses Howard as its terminus. Backups at this station, especially during rush hour are the rule, and it is not uncommon to sit on a train from ten to twenty minutes within sight of Howard, waiting for trains ahead to clear the station. As these backups happen on my way home, they are not as critical, but every bit as annoying. It's very difficult to explain how a one minute delay at Belmont could lead to a twenty minute delay five miles north.

Again I'm not an expert on what's causing these delays that seem much worse now than in the past but I have a few suspicions. The most obvious cause I think is wear and tear on the infrastructure. This past winter wreaked havok with the system and frequent delays occurred on a daily basis. That's just the nature of the game and I don't blame the CTA, apparently things were much worse on the Metra, Chicago's commuter railway. However it's hardly a surprise that an elevated structure that is over a century old would show signs of age. Currently, trains that should be capable of speeds of  30 to 40 mph are frequently reduced to a snail's pace because of poor track conditions.

Switches malfunctioning, and not just at the Clark Street junction, are another cause for delays. Back in the day, there were control towers at the major rail junctions manned round the clock by operators who were on hand who could manually operate the switches if the mechanical systems failed. Today the switches are controlled remotely at a central location, a great cost savings at the expense of efficiency in the case of problems. About ten years ago the CTA eliminated more personnel when they went from two person crews, an operator and conductor aboard each train, to one person crews. That meant that minor problems aboard a train which could once be addressed by the conductor while the train was in motion, now have to be dealt with by the operator, obviously stopping the train and with it, every train behind it.

Also, CTA trains now must be wheel chair accessible which is a great thing. Unfortunately with a one person crew, if a passenger in a wheelchair wants to board a train, it is the operator who is usually responsible for fetching and placing a metal ramp between the platform and the train for the passenger's access. Then the operator must return the ramp to its container before proceeding back to the controls. I've seen this highly inefficient process take up to five minutes to complete. Then the entire process is repeated once the passenger needs to get off the train.

The cash-strapped CTA can sometimes be forgiven for these and a whole slew of service related problems as I often think it's a miracle the authority is able to run at all. However with 320 million dollars burning a hole in someone's pocket, I think the agency would be do well by addressing some of these other problems before they tackle building the "Brown Line Flyover" as it has been called.

Given the chance, this is how I would prioritize spending that money:

• Fix the infrastructure - My question as to why trains have been moving so slowly lately when there is no traffic ahead was answered one day when I stood at the back of a slow moving train and looked at the condition of the tracks we had just rolled over. Instead of two straight lines converging into the distance, the rails resembled the wavy lines of an active oscilloscope readout. One day as our train huffed and puffed at a breakneck five mph, a woman asked her companion: "where do you get on the express train?" "This is the express train" was the answer. It's obvious that trains running at these painful speeds cost commuters far more than one or two minutes per ride.
• More efficient stops - Obviously, stopping for passengers takes up a lot of time. Along the Red Line between the Loyola and Wilson stops, stations are placed at intervals of three, and sometimes even two blocks apart. Having stations that close together runs contrary to the idea of rapid transit. Of course the proposal to eliminate stops would go over with the public like a lead balloon. So how about this: go back to the old system of alternating stops during rush hour? Long time Chicagoans will recognize the idea of designating lower volume stations as either A or B stops which would be served exclusively by alternating A and B trains. The more used stations would be designated AB stations where all trains would stop. The CTA successfully used this system for years. Metra uses a similar system during rush hour. Fewer stops per train would result in shorter ride times and fewer opportunities for unexpected delays.
• More efficient make-up time after delays - Today it seems a much less common practice after a delay to space out trains by running the leader train as an express. Using this practice more often would help reduce backups caused by trains bunched together after a delay. It's true that using these efficiency measures would inconvenience some riders, but on the whole, the system would benefit. In both cases, computer algorithms could be put into place that would determine which and how many stops should be skipped by each train to maximize flow while minimizing passenger inconvenience. 
• Hire more people - I know that not in a million years will we see the return of regular two person crews on L trains but perhaps it would make sense, at least during rush hours to put another crew member aboard each a train to help make things work a little smoother. Re-manning switch stations at the major junctions would speed up the delays caused by inevitable equipment problems. Also, stations today are inadequately staffed. With the CTA's confusing and bug-ridden new Ventra Card payment system, attendants are now spending so much time helping passengers figure out how to pay for their ride (several minutes per passenger in some cases), that they are unavailable to assist with other things, such as assisting handicapped passengers board and alight from trains. Short of that, perhaps a mechanical ramp system could be put into place that people in wheelchairs could easily operate themselves, eliminating one extra job for the already overburdened operators .
• Replace track on already existing right-of-way - The elevated structure south of Armitage and extending at least to Chicago Avenue, used to support four sets of tracks. Over the years, two of those sets were abandoned and left to decay. Ultimately they were removed. Since the acquisition of property for right-of-way is the most expensive aspect of building new rail projects (including the Brown Line overpass), would it not make sense to restore these tracks on already existing right-of-way to accommodate express trains from Fullerton into the Loop? This would not only free up some of the backups on the Brown and Purple Lines, but it would give at least some passengers the option of saving an extra ten minutes of commute time.

It's not difficult to understand why executives like CTA president Forrest Claypool, and politicians like Mayor Emanuel like projects like the Brown Line Flyover. They can point to these splashy projects as part of their legacy. They can say they created jobs and improved the system, however modestly. On the other hand, it's a little hard to place your legacy and engrave your name upon a new section of track, a train that doesn't make all the stops, or an extra station agent.

As anyone who has read this blog knows, I am a huge advocate of public transit. I believe that all great cities give residents and visitors numerous options of getting from one place to another that don't involve the dangerous, over-priced, over-taxing, over-polluting, personal transportation device known as the automobile. Articles by two local writers whom I admire, Blair Kamin, and Lynn Becker, I believe slightly overstated the issue when they compared the Brown Line Flyover to the massively destructive public works campaigns of Robert Moses in New York City and Richard J. Daley in Chicago. If I could be convinced that this project would significantly improve Chicago's transit system, even at the cost of sacrificing some buildings, I would wholeheartedly support it.

However looking at the matter from a practical, cost/benefit perspective, I have to seriously question whether spending money that could be used far more constructively, displacing homes and businesses, and destroying several buildings, some of them over 100 years old, some of them not even ten years old in a vibrant community, is worth it in order to possibly shave off a few seconds of travel time for commuters.

Remember folks, I'm one of those commuters, not somebody who lives in the affected neighborhood complaining about change. Personally I have everything to gain and nothing to lose if the Brown Line Flyover is built, that is with one exception:

To me the greatest fallacy is the assertion that if the Flyover is built, it would enable the CTA to run more trains over the three lines impacted. From my experience as I previously stated, the system in its current state south of Clark Junction, simply cannot efficiently handle the number of trains it has running at the present time. Unless most of the changes I stated above are enacted, how on earth will it be able to handle more traffic?

The answer is simple, it won't, and I'm afraid that unless plans can be put in place that will make the entire system run more efficiently, the Brown Line Flyover will only create more traffic problems than it will solve. Without those plans in place, in addition to the destruction of part of a neighborhood and the homes and livelihoods of its residents, I can't help but believe that the Brown Line Flyover is a foolish idea.

Imperfect strangers

A woman got on the train this morning and began talking to my seatmate, a friendly young man in his twenties. Their conversation went something like this:

Woman: "Don't you recognize me?"
Man: "You do look familiar."
W: "You know who I am don't you?"
M: "I can't quite place you."
W: "Really?"
M: "It's been a while hasn't it?"
W: "Oh come on!"
M: "Didn't you used to work at Target?"
W: "TARGET?!!!"
M: "You didn't work at Target?"
W: "No dammit, that was the woman who stole my identity."
M: "Excuse me?"
W: "This lady from Mexico, she broke into my home late one night, beat me up so bad I almost died. She took all my ids and I've been trying to get my identity back ever since."
M: "My gosh that's terrible."
W: "That's only the beginning, she broke into other homes and the police came after me. They surrounded me and you know what I did? I held up a bible."
M: "A bible?"
W: "They thought I was going to pull a gun but I pulled a bible on them instead."
M: "Hmmm."
W: "The thing that gets me is that I was born in the USA and they treat me like a criminal and these foreigners get treated like kings. What's your name?"
M: "Adam."
W: "Adam do you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?"
M: "um... I don't know."
W: "Well let me tell you about him..."

At that point the conversation became a monologue, mixing religion with tales of persecution.

The young man looked more and more uncomfortable. I pretended to be asleep.

Soon the monologue became a rant that everyone in the car could hear. Then in a sardonic tone, the woman said to the man: "Am I making you feel uncomfortable Adam? That is your name isn't it Adam?"

The man said: "No, that's not my name."

I felt bad for him and wanted to say something to lighten his burden, something like: "Boy you sure found yourself a live one."

But I kept my mouth shut and continued to pretend I was asleep. The young man by this time appeared defeated. He kept eyeing the door and when the train approached his stop, he bolted. For the first time in twenty minutes, the woman didn't say anything.

Then an elderly man took Adam's seat. The lady said to him:

"Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Roger Ebert?"

I didn't wait for his response, my stop was next and I bolted for the door.

Perfect strangers

After the weather report yesterday said "no more rain after 7AM" I felt confident heading off to work without a rain jacket. Besides, I had my umbrella in my backpack, or so I thought. I discovered that mistake after the drizzle turned into a steady rain about half way to my station. By the time I got to Clark Street, it was coming down pretty hard. At that point, a man carrying a good sized umbrella offered to share it with me.

Quite honestly, I feel a little uncomfortable when people offer me help. Being a stubborn sort, I always like to feel that I can take care of things pretty well by myself thank you very much, besides I don't like to see people being inconvenienced on my account. That's rather silly because when you think about it, allowing people to help you when they offer to do so, is also doing them a favor, as their act of kindness gives them a welcome chance to feel good about themselves. Being not a little vain, I also contemplated how silly I would look, getting drenched while walking beside the man with the umbrella, so I obliged and took his offer.

The next task was what to talk about while in the close company of a perfect stranger for the next five minutes. "So, how was your week?" I said. He smiled and said the obligatory: "it was good, how was yours?" I actually was prepared for that question because the night before my son had played the best baseball game of his life, and I just had to tell someone about it. So I did. Turned out, he had a six year old boy of his own and was very interested in learning about our little league program. We had a very pleasant conversation and by the time we got to the station, both of us dripping wet, we had become fast friends. I like to think both of us benefited from the encounter; for me it set a positive tone for what would otherwise have been a stressful day at work. Later that day when a colleague said to me: "I have some bad news for you" I just laughed it off. The news wasn't really that bad but on another day my reaction would have been much different.

In the past few weeks, I've found myself on several occasions engaged in conversation with strangers. There was the time when our train was experiencing several delays, not at all unusual, and my seatmate, a young Asian man, kept making comments to me about the slow ride. Being in the middle of a book, at first I was a little annoyed, but I realized this guy was not going to be ignored. Ultimately, he ended up being much more interesting than the book. He was from Nanjing, China, and perhaps not a little surprised that his American seatmate had not only heard of the place, but also knew about the unspeakable events that took place in that tragic city in the thirties. He told me all about his life in a foreign country, his wife and family back home, and his homesickness. I gave him some tips on off-the-beaten-path Chicago that he might be interested in to help ease his time here before he returned home. We became so involved in our conversation that he almost missed his stop. Then there was the older man with his son and daughter-in-law, all of them in Cubs regalia head to toe, coming from Wrigley Field on the day of that ballpark's 100th anniversary. I knew the game was not over because there was not a W or L flag flying above the scoreboard but could tell from their demeanor that it was not looking good for the home team. Curious about the game I asked the father about the gory details, which led to a fifteen minute conversation where we both exchanged our life stories. In the end it didn't even bother him when I confessed to being a White Sox fan.

Just this past week, sitting behind me were a couple of out-of-towners who kept expressing their concern about missing their station. I turned around and assured them they were headed in the right direction, which again lead to a protracted conversation, this time comparing Chicago with their home town, Houston.

Normally I have so many items on my plate: things to ponder, books to read, my own little life to lead, that my normal reaction is to keep to myself, content that the world will revolve just fine without me jumping in and "fixing" things. That's not to say I don't normally engage in the expected acts of courtesy. The other day as I was content in my seat reading my book, a pregnant woman got on the train and stood next to me. Much as I wanted to sit and read, I dutifully placed the bookmark and shut the book, got up and offered the woman my seat. Much to my surprise, she said: "No thanks I'm fine." "Are you sure?" I replied. She nodded and I sat back down, deprived of being able to perform my good deed for the day. Well at least I thought I'd be able to get back to my book. But then I began to feel a little uncomfortable, not because of the woman, she made her choice and despite her condition appeared to be in extremely good shape. No, it occurred to me that there would be passengers who got on the train later and would have missed my gesture. What would they think when they saw me, a man in reasonably good shape, sitting down while a pregnant woman stood with her distended belly practically in my lap? It didn't help that the gentleman sitting beside me was about 90 years old, what would happen if he got up and offered the lady his seat? What to do? I couldn't offer her my seat again, she'd see right through me. Fortunately the old man did not get up and a man seated behind me later offered the woman his seat and she thankfully declined. My honor at least, if not my self-satisfaction was spared.

I think little unexpected moments, those brief encounters with perfect strangers, do much to enliven one's life. I can't help but think how much I'd be missing if I drove to work. Encounters with people in their cars are entirely different; it's true that on occasion motorists are courteous to others, but the anonymity of being inside a vehicle prevents the gratification that positive face-to-face encounters provide. Of course that anonymity also enables some people to engage in the most egregious forms of behavior committed upon their fellow human beings. No wonder they call it road rage.

Coming home yesterday evening I got off at my stop and on the platform was a half-blind old woman who was shall we say, a little off. She was incoherently asking an old man a question and he ignored her. Then she turned to me. I thought she was asking for money and I politely declined, but it turned out she was asking if I could help her down the stairs, which I gladly did. She then asked me to help her out the door, which I also did. Then she asked me to help her cross the street which would take me in different direction than I was headed. I was going to do that as well but she proceeded ahead of me and almost walked into a moving car. After a long day and in pain because of my ankle which I had twisted earlier, I desperately wanted to get home as quickly as possible, but I remembered the encounter with my new friend earlier that morning. The woman wanted me to take her to a community center where they had a soup kitchen. She said it was just a few steps from there, but those steps got farther and farther away every step I took. She asked me my name and a little about my life and offered me a dollar for my troubles which I declined. I wasn't sure where this journey would end up but we eventually got to the community center. When we got there they told the woman that the soup kitchen was closed but she forced her way in and given her persuasive nature, I have no doubt she convinced them to get her something to eat. She asked me to come in with her but at that point I told her I had to get home to my wife and family. Grateful, she thanked me, then we hugged each other and said goodbye.

At that point I was several blocks off course on my much longed for journey home but a strange thing happened, my sore ankle suddenly felt much better.

Happy Birthday Wrigley Field

The morning ride to work on the southbound Red Line becomes really interesting as our train approaches Lawrence Avenue in the heart of Uptown. The faded glory of the commercial district in the vicinity of that stop is most apparent in the enormous Uptown Theater, closed decades ago but still magnificent, awaiting a fate yet to be determined, hopefully in the form of a benefactor with a check in the eight figures. One bright light that shown in the neighborhood until a few years back, the Borders store that occupied the ornate Goldblatts department store building, closed when the company that owned the chain of bookstores went bankrupt in 2011. At this writing the retail space in that building is shuttered but there is still plenty of life in the district. The venerable Green Mill, a former speakeasy often frequented by Al Capone back in the day, is very much alive as an elegant jazz club. The old Aragon Ballroom to our left, and the Riviera Theater to the right, are still in operation as concert venues. Catty-corner to the Green Mill and the Uptown Theater is a beautiful twelve story neo-classical building, now the home of the Bridgeview Bank, which stands in contrast to its neighboring buildings in an area dominated by neo-baroque and renaissance architecture. The new anchor business in the neighborhood is a huge Target store that opened a few blocks south, just beyond the next stop on our commute, Wilson Avenue. Between the Target store and Lawrence Avenue on Broadway, the main business thoroughfare of the district, sit a wide variety of businesses, from discount clothing stores and wig shops to an urban bike store and trendy restaurants, all catering to the varied population of the neighborhood, a testimony to the diversity of a remarkable community.

And so it goes in big cities that are alive and well, people move in, people move out, neighborhoods change, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Sometimes it's a tossup. One thing is certain in Uptown: the beautiful buildings, despite their current lack of activity remain standing, remind us of a glorious past, and the potential of a bright future.

One Chicago neighborhood guaranteed not to change for a very long time comes next on our brief tour of the north side. Two blocks south of Wilson Avenue, Graceland Cemetery is the city's best known burial ground, the final resting place for the city's famous and infamous movers and shakers. Like the rest of the city, the cemetery is segregated between the haves and the have-lesses. Graceland's "high rent" district surrounds a lagoon where you will find the magnificent tombs of the Palmers, the Ryersons, and many more of Chicago's prominent citizens of the past. Strolling through this remarkable place, especially on a guided tour or accompanied by a good guidebook, you will find one of the best history lessons on this city available anywhere.

Next we approach the Sheridan Station and here the train makes a short eastbound jog. Looking above the rooftops of the two-flats common to the area, this is when the rider catches the first view of the light standards of Wrigley Field, the exact moment in my morning commute when my heart skips a beat. Wrigley Field was built during the era of the "classic ballparks"; a period of less than a decade when all of the temporary, wooden big league ballparks that were prone to fire and other calamities, were replaced by permanent structures built of steel, brick, and concrete. When Wrigley was built exactly 100 years ago, it was like every other big league ballpark at the time, stuck smack dab in the middle of a city neighborhood upon whatever land was available for purchase by the owners of the team.

In 1914, the year Wrigley Field opened, fans got to the game either on foot, by streetcar, or elevated railway. Nobody thought of parking spaces as land was at too much of a premium to be devoted for the relatively few lucky souls to who owned their own vehicle. That would all change in a few years. By the early twenties as sales of automobiles were measured in the millions for the first time, baseball owners had to take notice. When the Yankees were forced out of the Polo Grounds which they shared with their landlords the New York Giants, they found an available site for their new ballpark about a half mile away, across the Harlem River in the Bronx. That site of a former lumber yard was large enough to accommodate not only a huge ballpark, but also parking for about 1,000 vehicles, still small potatoes considering the stadium could hold nearly 60,000 people.

The original Yankee Stadium, opened in 1923, could be classified as either the last of the classic ballparks, or the paradigm of the modern ballpark. In addition to the parking, it was the first baseball venue to bear the name "stadium." The original plan was to completely enclose the ballpark, much like the Roman Colisseum. Built as such, it could have accommodated about 100,000 fans. However those plans never materialized, the triple deck grandstand seats never made it much beyond the foul poles, leaving most of the fair territory beyond the fences open, giving the fans a view of the world outside, much like Wrigley Field.

The era of the modern ballpark began in earnest with the building of Municipal Stadium in Cleveland in the thirties. With few exceptions, no longer would private capital alone build ballparks. Cleveland's massive ballpark on the shores of Lake Erie was the first stadium to be built by its city to host not only baseball, but other large public events including football. Despite that, no one would ever mistake Municipal Stadium as anything other than a baseball park. Cleveland set the standard for major league ballparks for the next thirty years, that is to say, large, publicly funded multi-purpose sports venues surrounded by highways and parking lots. County Stadium in Milwaukee, Shea Stadium in New York, and Candlestick Park in San Francisco all followed its example. The general consensus among baseball fans was that with the exception of County Stadium, the "modern" ballparks lacked the intimacy of the classic ballparks.

Things were about to get much worse. By the 1960s, professional football rivaled baseball as the nation's most popular spectator sport. The classic ballparks at 50 years of age, were nearing the end of their life expectancy. Most were in bad shape and located in neighborhoods that many fans felt were dangerous. In the sixties, St. Louis, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Washington all replaced their Wrigley Field era ballparks with Astro-turf clad, multi-purpose stadiums that served baseball and football equally poorly.

With the exception of two highly regarded baseball-only parks, Dodger Stadium, built in the sixties, and Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City from the seventies, the mid-twentieth century was the era of the "cookie-cutter stadium", completely enclosed (Colisseum style) venues that were virtually indistinguishable from one another. At least a dozen major league teams played in them at one time or other. As it turned out, few of these buildings were still standing much beyond their thirtieth birthday.

In the nineties, a new revenue source was discovered for sporting events, the luxury skybox. This new innovation set into motion the largest boom in construction of new ballparks since the era of the classic ballpark. The skybox era brought back parks built exclusively for baseball that would be distinctive and intimate. The new ballparks used as their inspiration the ballparks of old, but ironically their construction spelled the doom of the last of the classic ballparks, that is with the exception of Fenway Park in Boston and of course, Wrigley Field.

There are many reasons why those two ballparks alone lived to celebrate their respective centennials, (Fenway opened in 1912). In Wrigley's case, its longevity can be traced directly to Phillip K. Wrigley, owner of the Cubs from his father's death in 1932, until his own demise in 1977. In a previous post I listed why those of us who love the place have old PK to thank. Conversely, those who want to see the place blown to bits, and there are many of them, have him to blame. In a nutshell, PK Wrigley knew he couldn't always have a good team to draw fans, but he could always make sure his ballpark was a place worth coming to. Much of the effort that should have gone into building up the team some people argue, went into building up and promoting the ballpark instead. Consequently, Cubs fans who blame Wrigley Field on their team's lack of success, (the Cubs haven't won a World Series since they played there), may actually have a point.

Passersby paying homage to the ancient cathedral of baseball

Some call it a baseball cathedral, others call it a dump; both opinions are correct. There's no getting around the fact that Wrigley Field needs a lot of work if its going to be around much longer. Simply put, the building has been around at least fifty years longer than it was originally intended. Its structural integrity is suspect, the training facilities for today's pampered athletes are woefully inadequate, many (not me) believe that the facilities for the fans are also lacking. There are those who wonder why the Cubs just don't build a new ballpark. They site Wrigley's lack of parking, its bad food, the lack of bells and whistles found at new ballparks, uncomfortable seats, unattractive restrooms, the list goes on and on. Several Chicago suburbs have offered sweet deals for the team to move their operations away from Chicago.

Through it all, the Ricketts family who owns the Cubs, remain adamant about keeping their team in WrigleyField despite the fact that they have been getting the runaround with their plans for the renovation of the ballpark from the neighborhood, namely the owners of the rooftop bleachers on the tops of buildings across the street on Waveland and Sheffield Avenues, and the alderman who is in their pocket, a chap by the name of Tom Tunney. I've gone into these issues elsewhere, so I won't bother you with them here.

Some wonder why the family, annoyed by the obstructionism they face, don't just throw up their hands and move to Shaumburg, Rosemont, or a number of other suburbs more than willing to cut them significant tax breaks and other perks to entice the team to pull up stakes and move out to the hinterlands. Could it be a sense of nostalgia that prevents them from building a new state-of-the-art facility?

I hardly think so. The Family Ricketts didn't get to be among the Fortune 400 because of their sentimentality. Tom Ricketts and his family no doubt understand the connection between the financial success of the Cubs, and Wrigley Field. There are people who come to Chicago and who go to Cubs games just to see Wrigley Field. Millions of people around the country became Cubs fans as a result of the local TV station that broadcast their games going national. Now what on earth could be the attraction to the Cubs when people around the country have the option of watching just about any other team? It's certainly unlikely that it is the scintillating baseball played by the men in blue. It could be argued that "The Friendly Confines" is more responsible for the value of the organization, than the team that plays in it. That may be a bitter pill to swallow for many Cub fans who would gladly trade the ballpark for a World Series Championship, but I have no doubt that it is true.

If you don't believe me, consider the case of Chicago's other big league ballpark, US Cellular Field, the home of the Chicago White Sox.

The "Cell" is everything that critics of Wrigley Field want in a ballpark. All the bells and whistles are there, instant replay and stats on the Jumbotron scoreboard, easy in and out access, comfortable seats, a huge selection of good food and drink, an endless array of distractions for those who don't find a baseball game enough of an attraction. The Cell has cleaner, if less efficient bathrooms, I've also gone into that before, you can look it up. And you would be hard pressed to find a sports venue in the United States that is more accessible. Located adjacent to a major Interstate highway, US Cellular Field sits in the middle of acres of parking lots. But not everyone drives to the Cell. In addition to city bus lines, the ballpark is served by two elevated lines, and now is also served by a commuter rail line. While the Cell is the same distance from the Loop as Wrigley Field, the commute from Downtown Chicago is half the time as there are fewer stops in between.

Despite their ballpark being more convenient and comfortable in every aspect, the White Sox draw fewer fans to their home games than do the Cubs, by a longshot.  The introduction to this interactive map proving what we already know, that there are more Cubs fans than Sox fans, says this: "Helped by the charm of their field and by WGN’s national broadcast reach, the Cubs have always been the better-loved of Chicago’s two teams." The first part of that statement is certainly true, but historically, the Cubs have not always been Chicago's better-loved team. As you might expect in a normal world, relative success at the gate is usually reflected by success on the field. For example, in the period between 1951 and 1965 when the Sox were a very good team often contending for the pennant which they actually won in 1959, the team drew well over one million fans every year with the exception of one (1958). In that same period when the Cubs were perpetual doormats, they drew over one million only once (1952). The direct relationship between the two teams' relative success and the number of people in the seats remained fairly predictable until the eighties when several things changed in the Cubs' favor:

•  In 1981, the popular broadcaster Harry Caray jumped from the White Sox to the Cubs. 
• While the Sox decided to televise most of their games on pay TV, the Cubs, besides going national, continued locally to broadcast all their games for free.
•  In 1984 the perennial losers the Cubs made their first appearance in post-season baseball since 1945. In that year the Cubs drew over two million for the first time in their history. 
• And of course in 1988 the first night game was played in Wrigley Field. 

During that time, the neighborhood surrounding Wrigley Field, once a sleepy residential/industrial neighborhood, later edgy and gang ridden, became the Wrigleyville we know today with its frat-like atmosphere helped along by the dozens of bars steps away from the ballpark. When I was a kid in the sixties and seventies, you could walk up to Wrigley Field, buy a ticket for that day, and have your pick of seats anywhere in the stands. Since the eighties, despite the quality of the team at the time, Wrigley Field is almost always a full house.

By contrast "Cell City" (a term I just invented to describe the immediate vicinity of US Cellular Field), is a sea of parking lots, bisected by an expressway and railroad tracks. You can still go there on game day and buy a row of seats just about anywhere in the park. In a series played yesterday and today against Detroit, it was obvious from the crowd's reaction that there were more Tiger fans in the stands than Sox fans.

While die-hard Cubs and Sox fans would disagree, there is nothing inherently different between the two that would merit one team more worthy than the other of our attention. Contrary to conventional wisdom, both teams have had in their histories some taste of success. The Cubs in fact, (back when they were known as the White Stockings among other things) were a bona fide dynasty. That was in the nineteenth century. Some consider the 1906 Cubs one of the greatest baseball teams of all time, but they lost the World Series that year to the White Sox. The Cubs (who at the time played on the west side),  won the Fall Classic the following two years, the first team to win consecutive World Series. From 1929 until 1945, the Cubs were perpetual contenders appearing in five World Series, losing them all.  As for the White Sox, until eight members of the team helped throw the World Series in 1919, the team flirted with becoming a dynasty. Those eight players including the great Joe Jackson, were banned from baseball for life and the team would not appear in another World Series until 1959 when they lost to the Dodgers. US Cellular Field does have one distinction that Wrigley Field does not: it was the home of a World Series champion. That happened in 2005. In that championship year, the White Sox drew 2,342,834 fans to their home games while the fourth place Cubs drew 3,099,992.

So what gives? Could it be that the parks and their settings have something to do with it? Consider this, while it may or may not exactly be your cup of tea, Wrigleyville is a vital community where there are lots of things to do while Cell City is a place to get into your car or train after the game and go someplace else.

That wasn't always the case. On the north side of 35th Street, old Comiskey Park, the Cell's predecessor, was once like Wrigley, in the middle of a neighborhood. Unlike PK Wrigley, the owners of the White Sox bought up much of the property around the ballpark and converted the land to parking. In the mid-fifties, the construction of the Dan Ryan Expressway decimated the community and created a formidable boundary between the park and all points east. Still there was a small strip of businesses on the south side of 35th Street across the park which included the legendary McCuddy's, the bar where Babe Ruth would allegedly sneak into between innings for a quick hot dog and beer. When the owners of the Sox built the Cell on the block where McCuddy's stood, they promised the owners that a site would be provided where they could re-build. Unfortunately they reneged on the deal and McCuddy's, like the rest of the neighborhood surrounding the park is no more.

As you may have guessed by now, this post is as much about cities and their design as it is about baseball and ballparks. On numerous occasions I have sited the urbanologist Jane Jacobs whose book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, went against the grain of its time, arguing that cities as they had been realized for centuries: complicated, idiosyncratic and chaotic as they were, functioned better than the new cities rationally designed around the separation of functions and the dominance of the automobile. Jacobs contended that the new theories on urban planning at the time, however well-intentioned, created dull, lifeless neighborhoods. Her views were discounted at a time when people were leaving American cities in droves for the suburbs. City planners countered that trend by creating cities that resembled suburbs.

Guess what? Fifty years later, we now realize that Jacobs was right after all, suburbs built around the automobile are indeed dull and the cities that were inspired by them are dull as well. People are moving back to traditional cities as this article claims and the suburbs, at least the ones that were designed around the automobile rather than around people, are in trouble. Could it be a coincidence that so many suburban mayors are offering the Rickettses all those concessions? I don't think so.

The story of ballpark construction throughout the twentieth century parallels the history of urban planning. Like most cities, baseball has a long history; by nature the game is complicated, unpredictable and idiosyncratic. The cookie cutter stadiums of the sixties and the seventies turned their backs on the glorious histories written in their respective cities. They were built rationally for comfort, practicality and convenience, everything that baseball isn't. That in my opinion is why they failed.

Wrigley Field by contrast has 100 years of history within its ivy-coved walls. Where else can you go to a ballpark where baseball immortals Honus Wagner patrolled the infield and Christy Mathewson once pitched? One of the most famous legends of the game took place there when Babe Ruth allegedly "called" a home run in the 1932 World Series. You can read about it here. Then there was the 1938 pennant race which culminated in perhaps the most famous single event in Chicago baseball history, Gabby Hartnett's "Homer in the Gloamin'". This year much of that history can be found in the form of murals painted on the wall of the Waveland Avenue side of the ballpark.

But there is so much more to Wrigley Field. In my mind there is simply no better place to watch a ballgame. There is no bad seat in the house. The "unobstructed views" that newer ballparks claim come at the price of being close to the game. While foul pop ups often clear the roof behind home plate at Wrigley Field, some seats at the Cell are so high that you are still looking down at even the highest popup. Unencumbered by the distractions of blaring music and incessant ads over the loudspeakers found at other ballparks, Wrigley Field is a baseball purist's dream. The future of that welcome attraction is in doubt with the proposed addition of a Jumbotron scoreboard in left field. I'm not at all happy about that, however it's a concession I'm willing to except in return for keeping the ballpark otherwise intact.

Perhaps the best part of Wrigley Field is the connection it has with its neighborhood. Whether is was a stroke of genius or merely dumb luck, I'm convinced that PK Wrigley's reticence to build parking has contributed greatly to the success of both the park and the neighborhood. No matter how you get to the ballpark, you are forced to walk through the neighborhood. Of course there are the dozens of bars to explore, but if that's not your bag and you are patient enough to brave through the obligatory gauntlet of drunken post-game louts, you'll find fascinating neighborhoods in every direction, including one of the most charming and beautiful blocks in Chicago, Alta Vista Terrace, just a few blocks north of the ballpark. Wrigley Field is woven seamlessly into its neighborhood, were it not for the light standards, themselves a beautiful work of design, you wouldn't even notice the ballpark until you were right on top of it. That neighborhood is constantly alive, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

By contrast, US Cellular Field resembles a far off castle set off from the rest of city by means of the parking lots, expressway, and massive railroad viaducts. There are indeed interesting neighborhoods to be discovered beyond those formidable barriers, but alas there is little enticement to do so and few take the opportunity. With the exception of 81 regularly scheduled game days per year, there is no life in Cell City, just acre upon acre of concrete, and an empty stadium.

A local radio host in expressing his opinion that the Cubs should move out to the suburbs, unwittingly added fodder to my argument on the day of the 100th anniversary of  Wrigley Field by saying: "This is the 21st Century, we deserve a 21st Century stadium." The irony of his comment is that the idea of tearing down a beloved landmark in the city and relocating to the suburbs is a very 1960s concept. The last time I checked, 1960 was 54 years ago.

The 21st Century concept is that cities are made vibrant through dynamic change along with holding on to the best of the past. History in a great city exists seamlessly with the present and the future. Once you lose a treasure like Wrigley Field, it's gone forever; try as they may, none of the new "retro" ballparks could ever come close to replicating the look, the feel, and the spirit of the old ballpark.

Tear it down and rebuild is a concept whose time came and went.
Build it in the suburbs and they may come, for a while at least, then they'll move on to something else. Wrigley Field as we have seen, has staying power, I wouldn't be surprised if it were around for another hundred years.

My words to the radio guy would be this:

Get with the times dude.