Just like ethnic and religious groups, cities have stereotypes too. Cities, and their outlying suburbs. Growing up on (I know I should say "in" but F that) Long Island, I was pretty aware of the stereotypes of Long Islanders (we love Billy Joel, wear boat shoes year round, have bad accents, love bagels and cawfee, tan regularly, and are afraid of Manhattan) as well as those of New York City (residents all work in finance, go out to The Hamptons on weekends, live on Fifth Avenue, are uppity) and Brooklyn (residents are gangstas, rappers, hipsters, and love pizza). But, I had some serious pre-conceived notions about Chicago, and the Midwest in general. (For the record, those of you have other pre-conceived notions, all Long Islanders are not rich and do not drive 7 Series BMWs, even if we wish we did.)
Some stereotypes, obviously, are true. Otherwise they wouldn't be stereotypes. By and large, Long Islanders are afraid of New York City. They also fake tan as much as possible, have terrible accents, not to mention voices, and love bagels. They will also drink coffee at any time of the day, regardless of weather. Bettah yet -- ice cawfee. (Please note, I did not forget the "d" in iced. No one on Long Island says "Iced Coffee".) Growing up, and well into my 20s, Chicago was a far off, windy and freezing land with deep-dish "pizza" (let's be honest and admit that it's a casserole), Da Bears, and Michael Jordan.
Never mind that I had forgotten that Michael Jordan didn't live there anymore and was not playing for Da Bulls. In any event, it's not like I made this up myself. I had heard and seen plenty about Chicago well before I had even visited. Oh where?, you ask? Obviously Drs. Green and Carter.So let me begin a few months before now, to a place that made entirely more sense to me: New York. First and foremost, slices of pizza existed on every corner. I understood the transit system and could get everywhere. If I wanted falafel, there were at least 4 places to go in Manhattan (carts included) and one awesome one on N. 7th in BK. Me and Penn Station go way back. A move to Chicago would be a journey into uncharted territory, except for business trips when American Airlines lost my luggage (who brings an extra large suitcase to Chicago for three days anyway?). So anyway, as i got ready to move I thought about all the things I would need to find in Chicago: my favorite pizzeria, a local bar with hot dogs, a bodega around the corner selling 24 ounce Coors Lights or PBR...
Getting back to my point: my original impression of Chicago, before the 14 hour drive from Brooklyn, crossing New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana, was based a lmost entirely on ER, colored only slightly by Saturday Night Live. Since the beginning I was obsessed with ER, and not only because of the medical drama and my latent dreams of becoming an ER doctor. Obvs I was like, Holy Crap, I am just like Dr. Green! And I would totally have a tailored doctor coat like Dr. Carter. But, as soon as I saw Carter slide down Michigan or something and pick up a Polish dog with everything on it, I was like, I can do that. And, man, I wish I were a playa like Doug Ross.
So basically, above all things -- the news, the Sears Tower, hot dogs (believe it or not), Abbie Hoffman, Mayor(s) Daley, Barack Obama, Second City, John Belushi, and deep dish pizza (from now on known as pizza casserole) -- none so colored my theories and notions of the city in which I now live as Michael Crichton's brilliant series, ER. So can you imagine when I learned that Cook County General was a fictional hospital? This is what I was holding onto:
1. Getting a tailored white doctor coat (what are these called anyway?)
2. Going to Cook County General and busting open someone's chest and saving his life (see season 1).
3. Renting an awesome loft apartment with columns.
4. Becoming friends with Nurse Hathaway, and making her Shepard's Pie after she tries to kill herself.
None of these things happened or ever will, and logic tells me it's because there is no Cook County General. But can't one believe in something as awesome as this:
Shelly
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I'm in love with Carol Hathaway.
ReplyDeleteAren't we all? She is the best.
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