I anticipate making
the tigh tright hand turn off of 79th
Street at Sangamon into the tight cul de sac
pavement that aprons the Leo
High School staff and
Alumni parking lot. I anticipate up a storm. I can see the chimney of Leo High School
before I even get to Damen Ave.
and it dominates the eastern skies of the Gresham
neighborhood, suggesting welcome, safety, brotherhood and opportunity. To arrive at that Holy Have requires grit,
fore-thought and eyes on the mirrors.
I try to keep my eyes in rear view mirrors, especially to my
immediate right. 79th Street
is a truck path between the Dan Ryan Expressway and the freight and rail yards that
begin west of Western Ave.
and continue to trucking and warehouse village of Hopkins
in Archer Ave
– Rt 171.
Not only is there a legion of cars, SUVs, vans and hillbilly
Cadillacs of all shapes, sizes and wheel fixture, but forty-foot tractor
trailers and utility vehicles of monstrous size and intimidation insinuating
their collective will upon my lightly armored vehicle and filo pastry thin
heart.
The turn, as I said is tight, tighter than the pockets on a
fat man’s pants, because 79th
Street is a wholly theoretical two lane street with
bus and turning lane –east bound and west bound. I longer take Vincennes to Halsted to 79th Street, avoiding a disasterous left hand turn at Sangamon altogether.
Like the theoretical crossing lanes at each intersection,
two lane traffic, with right lane observances to ordinance and good manners,
have become an urban venial sin – noted, but largely ignored. Most
citizen-workers modestly follow the lane and speed limit; nevertheless, there
are Byronic types for whom no law or ordinance stays they need for speed and
avoiding the sight of tail-lights –universal.
Since 1995, I have been singularly fortunate to avoid
collision on this thorough-fare. At Morgan I merge at at peril - courage helps an undoomed man. Others not so fortunate. I have witnesses duels between motorists with
the lane sober driver speeding up with the corsair driving with no plates. Several
times, to my delight, the existentialist got crushed into a parked City
vehicle. There are no bicycle enthusiast peddling 79th Street – odd that. Why enter a lion's cage wearing a pork-chop suit?
In response to all of this haste-makes-delays driving and
drivers, I have but two words –
“Trombone Shorty!”
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