Get On the Hipster Train
This weekend was the Intonation Music Festival here in beautiful sweaty drought-ridden Chicago. The full review will be up in a day or so, but before that, I have to explain about the journey there.
The show was out at the Ashland stop on the Green Line. This is a place well off the standard hipster map. But there was a caravan of boys in double-cuffed jeans and girls in fluffy skirts marching from the Red Line up to the Green Line to be carried off to the West Side for the day's adventure. As I rode the escalator up on Sunday afternoon, a guy behind me commented, "I bet everyone on this escalator is going to Intonation." He was right. We moved in a swarm. We took up every seat on the El. Everyone looked from one to another to be sure they were headed in the right direction. Get on this train? Get off at this stop? Go this way? It was a surreal moment, and one I wish I'd taken a picture of.
Today my boss said that he hoped I didn't go out there alone, the neighborhood being so dangerous. No, I said. I wasn't alone. I was on the Hipster Train.
The show was out at the Ashland stop on the Green Line. This is a place well off the standard hipster map. But there was a caravan of boys in double-cuffed jeans and girls in fluffy skirts marching from the Red Line up to the Green Line to be carried off to the West Side for the day's adventure. As I rode the escalator up on Sunday afternoon, a guy behind me commented, "I bet everyone on this escalator is going to Intonation." He was right. We moved in a swarm. We took up every seat on the El. Everyone looked from one to another to be sure they were headed in the right direction. Get on this train? Get off at this stop? Go this way? It was a surreal moment, and one I wish I'd taken a picture of.
Today my boss said that he hoped I didn't go out there alone, the neighborhood being so dangerous. No, I said. I wasn't alone. I was on the Hipster Train.
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