High Fidelity Days

Years ago, I used to frequent Earwax in Chicago's arty Bucktown/Wicker Park district quite a bit. A lot of my friends lived in the neighborhood when rents were still affordable and there were loads of three flats that hadn't yet converted to (or been torn down for) condos. Those were the salad years, when I was still working retail. . . skinny less from working out and more from not being able to afford to buy much food.

And I loved Earwax. Pretty affordable food, but it still felt like splurging--soups with a chunk of brie, yummy tea, the perfect fall food near the end of the month when I realized I'd come in under budget and I could afford to pay to sit somewhere and doodle in my sketchbook. I haven't been in years. That neighborhood was decidedly tied to a younger period in my life.

But selling books at Myopic the other day with the boy, I took a weird turn while walking and ended up at the back of Earwax in the alley. . . and the even the colorful back of the place made me a little nostalgic for younger days.