When I first moved to downtownish Chicago, my life revolved around a sickfast sport car. Both my car and I hated Chicago. Potholes gnawed at its chassis. Parallel parkers ravaged its fenders. Cops fed it a steady diet of parking tickets. After three years of Chicago misery, my car breathed its last. While still in mourning, the following week I bought a bicycle. Soon enough, my bike took me to faraway lands never before seen from the highway: Mexico, Poland, Ukraine, Greece, Puerto Rico, and a third world African country. Within a month I had fallen in love with the beauty of urban life, its vibrance and its decay.
Four years ago I moved to a small town just outside of Pittsburgh. I have to drive (a minivan) everywhere. While I slowly strangle nature, I’ve learned to soak up its beauty. Every day I drive to Home Depot. And this is what I see: