MIND THEM CORNERS

I was talking to my good friend Dominick earlier today, and mentioned that if I was Head Writer for the United States ten years ago, I would have told my sfaff, “Listen: you can have ‘Donald Trump is President,’ OR you can have, ‘Kevin Spacey kills people,’ but you can’t have both: that’s a hat on a hat.” It was one of those things you say when you’re kidding, but you’re also not joking in the least. What a whirlwind we’ve been caught up in since 2016. My God. I’m just extremely fortunate that since 2018, my life has been improving each year. That’s not to say that terrible things haven’t happened—both in my personal circle, and in the wider world—but overall, I’ve made out VERY well, and recent adventures have brought that home to me again and again.

Kechi and I left camp a little early and went down to spend time with my family and friends in Maryland for a few days. Then, on Tuesday, we drove straight to Chicago and installed ourselves in a hotel downtown. We got it pretty cheap, so I was surprised by the quality of the room. We had a beautiful view of Lake Michigan and our corner of downtown. We didn’t know it when we got there, but apparently, there’s a summer fireworks series that pops off every Wednesday, so on our last night in the hotel, we started hearing bombs cooking off.

Now, a little about that: I love fireworks, and so does Kechi. Maybe we’d feel different if Karate was frightened by them, but thunderstorms, fireworks, and all that don’t bother him at all unless he senses that we’re afraid. We sat up in bed to watch the colorful volleys in the distance blooming like electric flowers, and it honestly felt like the city was welcoming us. I was sure there was some sort of local holiday or celebration we knew nothing about, but no, it was just Wednesday. (I don't know why I didn't get Kechi to take the fireworks photos, since she is a far better photographer than I'll ever be.)

I’ve never spent much time in Chicago; I’ve just gone through on the bus once or twice. This was a fantastic intro to the city. We played in the park, sauntered over to see the Bean, and I wore my feet out walking. This summer's trips to NYC helped remind me how much I love city living. I'll always adore New Orleans, and there are many cities I love, as well, but there is something genuinely fulfilling about being in an enormous metropolis like New York, LA, or Chicago. Oddly enough, it was my trip to LA for the LA Times Book Festival that first reminded me of that fact in a big way. I've always had fun in LA before--and that trip was especially amazing because I got to hang with my niece Verida and attend Stoned vs Drunk vs Sober with her--not to mention that the Bradbury Award was maybe the biggest nomination I've ever had. While we were there, I had to consider the possibility that LA, specifically, was calling to me, but I thing Chicagoland will be a better fit. (I'm still extremely worried about the cold, though.)

On Thursday, we packed up our things from the hotel and drove up to Evanston to see our apartment for the first time in person. The place is lovely. We grabbed a bagel in downtown Evanston and moved some things inside, and then I headed to Deering Library where I wrote most of this—but not all. Turns out the library is still under summer hours, so I got turned out at six, unexpectedly. The next day, I went to the public library in downtown Evanston to get my card and try the place out. Unfortunately, the wifi is not good, and things were a little loud and hectic in there, so I’ll be sticking with the university libraries most of the time. I DID get my library card, though (I can’t live in a new place without one) and I look forward to doing everything other than writing there.

We’ve spent the past couple days buying things to make the apartment livable before the contents of our old place can be brought to us, and exploring our new neighborhood. On the one hand, I was hoping to live slightly closer in—inside the city limits—but being able to walk to school, at least until it gets cold, is a major plus. Karate also likes the suburban neighborhood with its grassy lawns, and there are other dogs in the building, and his first meeting with them seems to have gone pretty well.

This move has truly been an odyssey for us. It reminds me a little of the old days when my parents used to move the family around for the State Department—except, we don’t have a fixer or air and sea freight for our belongings. School starts on the sixteenth of next month, and until then, I’m going to be prepping, reading, and writing writing writing on Dead End Boys.

I get the sense that Karate is still emotionally exhausted by all the scenery-changes of the past few months, but he vastly prefers the new apartment to the cabin at camp. Now his bed isn’t tucked away beneath our own. I’ve already gotten a recommendation for a new barber, which, for a Black dude is EXTREMELY important on multiple levels. I’m also seeing more Black folx than I feared would be present, which is a comfort. I haven’t lived outside Louisiana for 20 years, so I’m not used to such overwhelmingly white spaces anymore.

Northwestern's campus is lushly beautiful. The weather is perfect (for now), and I honestly can’t overstate how happy I am to have Kechi and Karate with me for this new chapter of our lives. The process of leaving Baton Rouge was both rushed and protracted. We had to leave behind so many things--and people--we dearly loved, but that was the price we had to pay to take advantage of such a life-changing opportunity. Before now, I never allowed myself to feel the true importance of this move. I understood it academically, but actually being in Chicago and then Evanston is an unparalleled rush--and virtually nothing has happened yet. Maybe I felt exactly the same thing when my Brother Brandon piloted our moving truck over the bridge across Lake Ponchartrain to New Orleans, but I doubt it. Back then, I had virtually nothing to my name save for a few short story sales. No wife, no Karate, and the world, at least for me, was not nearly as frightening a place as it is these days.

There are still so many corners around which I cannot see....