By Jack Clark
Across the way there’s a gas station. It’s an old-fashioned-looking place. And like the old days, there are no self-service pumps. There’s an apartment above the garage, which is rare in Chicago gas stations and makes the place look like a gangster hideout in a Bogart movie. Sometimes they’ll have some old car with a For Sale sign in the window sitting on the grass where Wolcott and Lincoln come to a point. Once there was a race car from a demolition derby sitting there, all banged up but still looking drivable.
As I sit at Lincoln and Grace, day after day it seems, I notice that the gas station gets very little business. The price seems pretty reasonable for full service. If the light ever changes maybe I’ll go over there and let ’em fill it up and check the oil. Instead I just wait and wonder: Have we become so accustomed to self-service that we don’t even know how to use full service anymore? Or are we just hooked on the fumes?
At least if the White Hen were there, you’d know where to find a cop or a cab if you needed one, and think of all the space you could save in your kitchen. You wouldn’t even need a refrigerator.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
But it’s always fun to watch construction workers and to note their progress as the town houses go up. It’s also nice to see that they’re actually using structural brick–block and brick, to be precise, which is a close second to all-brick construction. Some developers, besides cramming as many town houses into a lot as possible, have another get-rich-quick trick. They build frame structures and then hide the wood with brick veneer. The only reason to use brick veneer is to fleece the buyer out of even more money by conning him into thinking he is actually buying structural brick.
“I thought you were poor,” I said, remembering all her Depression stories.
Come on, admit it. This is boring. But the light won’t change and my radio’s broken, so I’m stuck here with my own petty thoughts as traffic keeps backing up on Lincoln Avenue. Wolcott has the green. Wolcott always seems to have the green. But there are no cars on Wolcott. Not one. Never. Day after day after day after day. Or almost never. People do get lost occasionally.
