A camera sweeps down from the sky, framing buildings, streets and cars with a ‘70s-era voice-over says, “ Chicago ! The city of broad shoulders: Home to 2.8 million people and tens of thousands of vehicles whirring through its smoothly-paved streets, up Lake Shore Drive and down Michigan Avenue .”
Really, you don't need the camera to imagine it, because anyone flying into Chicago knows what the city looks like from that bird's eye view: those teeny, toy-like skyscrapers divided up by uncommonly straight lines. And on each of those gray lines little Matchbox cars shoot north, south, east and west. America has had a thriving car culture for decades, ever since owning a sedan or station wagon became as synonymous with the idea of a family unit as children or a home.
Yet, living in Chicago, for some there is no interaction with cars whatsoever, outside of having to hurry past them as the walk signal starts blinking red. With public transportation uncommonly good, cars often don't seem worth the trouble of owning. Parking is too difficult. Insurance is too high. Thieves are too numerous. In short, cars are too much of a nuisance. And while there is little, if no, need for a car, it seems like a lot of people (other than me) have them. Sometimes, even, it seems like they are all parked between Belmont and Fullerton Avenues. Often, they're getting custom work from their loving owners.
It's no also surprise that in America, owners like to detail and customize their cars. Among other things, Americans are all about individualization and disposable income. By slapping a pair of spinning rims on that SUV, an owner gets to showcase his bankroll, as well as separate his Escalade from the rest of the pack. Souping up a ride takes care of two birds with one stone.
Now, I've always been a big fan of customizing things. In truth, I've customized things for a while. When I was much younger, I used to cover my closet doors with pictures, making customized entryways. When I was 17, I customized my Airwalks with glitter. They got me loads of women, and by “women,” I mean “slaps to the back of the head by hockey players at my high school.” Now, I live in Chicago. I no longer have Airwalks to customize. I've considered customizing my flesh with a tattoo, but that seems too permanent, too … I don't know … Tommy Lee.
So why don't I just bite the bullet and customize my car? Of course, as you may remember, I live in here and take the el. I don't have a car. Honestly, who the hell needs a car? I'll tell you who: People who don't understand the incredible ease of our nice CTA. And maybe the police. Since I am not a cop, and since I do understand the CTA (loosely, at least – I still fear the bus), I have little use for a car.
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