Growing up in
Driving north into the city I exhausted our clutch and gave myself a permanent foot-cramp during the two hour patience marathon otherwise known as the last 30 mile stretch of I-55 entering the city. I managed to keep my temper (and not murder my side-seat driver and his ‘helpful’ suggestions) by telling myself it was a one-time fluke. But then on the way west OUT of the city that night, and then back east IN to the city the next morning and then back OUT again headed south and home Saturday afternoon, we were met with construction, on every major road. There are only Wicked Witches at every compass point in this story. We stay with family Friday night each weekend, and when we (finally) arrived at their neighborhood to find their subdivision road ripped out, I might have sad a tiny little bad word.
In desperation I jumped on google maps to see if it was just my own little Charlie Brown rain-cloud of road construction following me around, or if Chicagoland roadways really had all spontaneously combusted overnight. Unfortunately, the latter was true. Well - not the spontaneous combustion part. But the mass of highway demolition frenzy, spurred on by our stimulus dollars, looks to be part of our commute for a long, long time to come.