I drive through the heart of Logan Square every morning, on my way to work. As I'm rounding into the circle interchange, I pause at the same stop sign. It's more of an active pause, but definitely not a full stop -- sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Racey.
(Mr. Racey was my high school driver's ed teacher...who married a woman named Stacey during our senior year. Ha! But I digress)
There is a crumpled, old, VERY dirty santa hat on the ground, near the stop sign. Every morning, I look down to see if it has wandered away in the night - perhaps picked up by a random homeless person, or stuck to a tire of some passing car. But it remains there, lying on the pavement, like the metaphoric death of Christmas. It's very sad, and simultaneously, kind of interesting. It's just lying there, in the crook of the curb, accumulating dust and debris.
Somewhere in the greater Chicagoland area, there's a hatless Santa Claus. It's stuff like this that makes me want to keep my camera in my car at all times. You'll just have to use your imagination on this one.
(Mr. Racey was my high school driver's ed teacher...who married a woman named Stacey during our senior year. Ha! But I digress)
There is a crumpled, old, VERY dirty santa hat on the ground, near the stop sign. Every morning, I look down to see if it has wandered away in the night - perhaps picked up by a random homeless person, or stuck to a tire of some passing car. But it remains there, lying on the pavement, like the metaphoric death of Christmas. It's very sad, and simultaneously, kind of interesting. It's just lying there, in the crook of the curb, accumulating dust and debris.
Somewhere in the greater Chicagoland area, there's a hatless Santa Claus. It's stuff like this that makes me want to keep my camera in my car at all times. You'll just have to use your imagination on this one.
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