Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first of what I hope to be a glorious chronicle of the neighborhood that surrounds our wonderful campus.
I am of course talking about the beautiful patch of Chicago known as Mt. Greenwood.
I have lived in Mt. Greenwood my whole life. I consider myself a sort of expert in the ways of Mt. Greenwood: from the punky tweens sneaking Busch Lite and Skoal into Keller Park, McKiernan Park or Mt. Greenwood Park (I’m proud to say that I was never among these punky tweens) to the hardworking and hard-partying adults that these tweens grow up to be.
What will follow in the coming weeks will be something that I’ve longed to do for a while now: a chronicle of my home viewed through a lens of loving satire.
Today, I would like to begin by discussing an anomaly that I have recently been made aware of in the 19 (almost 20) years that I’ve been a proud Mt. Greenwoodian.
Last April during a walk through the hallowed blocks of Mt. Greenwood, I witnessed something that I’d seen before. It seemed like something from a dream – oddly familiar but strangely original.
What I saw was a man who was walking his dog. That wasn’t the strange part.
The strange part was that the man was walking his dog while holding an open bottle of beer.
At the moment, strangely enough, I didn’t think anything of it. But as time wore on, I saw maybe three more over the summer of 2013.
But, then fall came. These dog walkers holding their nightly brews disappeared as the weather turned bitterly cold.
We are now engaged in a deep freeze. These booze-bearing pet-lovers are a long way off, but recent thoughts and longings for spring have brought back oddly fond memories of these folk.
(I would’ve gladly provided a photo, or at least an imitation of a Mt. Greenwood Colonel, but the weather has prevented me from doing such.)
Yet, I thought for a sight so spectacularly grand and so in the style of the ways of Mt. Greenwood that this particular situation needs a name.
Then divine inspiration (OK, probably not divine…) struck: a Mt. Greenwood Colonel.
Thus these Mt. Greenwood chronicles have begun with the most recent discovery, or rather, naming of a discovery.
So this spring if ever you found yourself in the glorious land between Beverly and Evergreen Park and should you find yourself confronted by a man or woman walking a dog (or dogs) while holding an open can or bottle of beer, fear not.
This is a Mt. Greenwood Colonel – a sentinel of the customs and attitudes of Mt. Greenwood.
You should consider yourself lucky. Seeing a Mt. Greenwood Colonel may not be rare, but it is funny….
To speak frankly for a moment, the notion that there were people in my own neighborhood who did this sort of thing struck me as being weird, yet felt right given the context of some of the things that you see within Mt. Greenwood.
It needed a name. It felt oddly important that this one particular thing have a name and that it reflect a level of importance.
The name itself came from (not divine inspiration) that corner of my mind where silliness is free to take flight.
We all have that corner of our minds. It becomes incredibly active, for me at least, when I see things the Mt. Greenwood Colonel.
Because my priorities are out of whack, I spent so much time thinking of what I could name this thing and somehow that popped into my head. It doesn’t sound half-bad, though.
For today, here endeth the lesson. See you next week when I take on the crux of Mt. Greenwood industry – Hamburger Lane.
Brian Laughran
Senior Viewpoints Editor
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