Chicago neighborhoods: Corner pubs. Cracked sidewalks. Earings. Fearless pigeons. Wrinkled Greek men; gold chained latino machismos. Theaters with one door. Red brick salt box houses. Spanish in bursts like water cannons.
And me drinking house blend, self-consciously hoping I'm interesting enough to fit in this City Jam Session, this mish-mash of notes and beats.
Jason D my Chicago buddy just bought a new hip two-flat in Wicker Park... within walking distance of *three* Intelligensia refill stations. I'm staying with him for two weeks while I'm up in Chicago visiting friends and ministry partners. Sweet.