To drive into Chicago
on a sunny Friday afternoon is to experience the city the way God — or
at least the holy trinity of Daniel Burnham, Louis H. Sullivan and Mies
van der Rohe — intended it. Iconic skyscrapers rise from the
strip-mall-strewn prairie to pierce the blue in a jumble of geometries,
their glinting glass, steel, stone and concrete announcing the power
and prestige of the capital of the Midwest. […]
What was this city, then, if such as myself, on a low budget, could
essentially see, do and eat whatever I wanted without straining my
wallet? Were the skyscrapers merely a prairie mirage, a veil for the
cheap, accessible delights hidden at their feet?
The New York Times discovers the Chicago of the graduate student.