Halloo, hallay
From the Bean to Union Station
Here comes a day
For citywide celebration.
On this March 4
By proclamation of the mayor
Chicago adds a year
While I simply turn grayer.
You’re a windy 187,
Me, a century-plus less
We have the same birthday
But not the same noblesse.
From Rogers to Lincoln
To Morgan and South Deering
Your invite list spans
Edison to Clearing.
Meanwhile, down south
My bash will be humble
Around my kitchen table
Atomic cake bits will crumble.
Chicago, my birthplace,
With each year grows bolder
By contrast,
I wane and only get older.
Your relevance, your vibrancy,
Your unique flair
Your grit, your wind
Your history of dare.
Your games, your shows
Your food and your drink
Your politics, your graft
That nod and that wink.
We both rose from nothing
Our fears we’d defy
While I leaned on work
You “knew a guy.”
Your river, your buildings
Your festivals galore
It seems age enhances
your skylined shore.
Meanwhile, in the suburbs
I wrinkle and wilt
Under the weight of the years
March 4 makes me tilt.
Chicago gets older
And yet is revered
No matter the scandals
Its critics have jeered.
You still have vitality
Style in the bag.
In some ways, you grow younger
Your mile more mag.
I envy the fondness
Advanced age brings
A collection of neighborhoods
Of revitalization it sings.
For things become vintage
And are given center stage
While people just get older
A drain on the wage.
Yes, we share the day
In fact, we share a lot
We both prefer summer
Spent on somebody’s yacht.
We hate our traffic
But love our location
We take on the chin
Our chains to transportation.
We both have our issues
Some problems like boulders
For a time in the ‘80s
We both had big shoulders.
We’ve both known some pain
Some success and some loss
We’ve both hailed victory
We’ve both shunned the boss.
We both love our drama
Although mine’s mostly backstage
We both bemoan traffic
Pot holes and road rage.
We both love our Jordan
We both hate the Mets
We both question our choices
The colder it gets.
We don’t need so fancy
We don’t need high end
Give us good pizza
A beer and a friend.
We both love adventure
We’re proud of our scars
We both have long stories
We’ve left in the bars.
So much in common
Yet so different a day
As Chicago grows grander
I whittle away.
In the shadows
I bask in your birthday glow
I collect your confetti
I applaud your show.
I’ll take my small day
Sprinkled with your big noise
Riding your coattails
Is one of my joys.
Happy Birthday, Big town
Happy Birthday to us
Now go get in your limo
I’m OK with the bus.
Donna Vickroy is an award-winning reporter, editor and columnist who worked for the Daily Southtown for 38 years. You can reach her at donnavickroy4@gmail.com.
