Thinking about our neighborhood. We ended up here by accident, with little fore-thought: a friend, a job, the sprawling lakefront enticing us.
We are surrounded by beauty here. We are perched on the Northwest side of Lake Michigan. It is a tree-filled place with almost unimaginably beautiful mansions and old brick apartments dotted all across town. The homes get bigger, pricier and more mind-boggling & impressive the closer you get to the lakefront. There is a large University in town, with its own big rambling, gorgeous campus. This is a diverse, progressive, blue-bubble enclave. This town exudes class, intelligence, and money.
My partner and I don't really belong here. We are marginal characters. Particularly-particular birds. Still, we do well here, we are making it, day to day. Of course, we are often schlepping, always on the move, always hustling to make it. How we survive is an open question. My answer: Luck & Pluck. It's all primarily smoke and mirrors, but we have actually thrived here. We love this place. Yes it does get cold here, the winters can be a challenge, but there is beauty in the depths of winter too. We are lucky to know lots of folks here: Creatives, Musicians, Artists, Writers, Professors, Doctors, Lawyers; over-flowing, over-stuffed families of wealth, distinction and accomplishment.
It can be a bit intimidating. My partner and I are odd ducks, and from a young age, it is safe to say, that we both have always felt like outsiders, outliers, underdogs, people who don't really fit in anywhere."You're not from around here, are you?" You know, in it, not of it. Over the years that has sort of become a feature, not a flaw, in our approach and demeanor. We wear that misfit, odd-duck-ness as a badge of honor. So, yeah, we stand out in the crowd here, and that's okay.
I do think there is a tremendous benefit being surrounded by beauty, privilege and accomplishment. There is also an advantage to living in a neighborhood that we are always navigating: walking, biking, always on the street, meeting and greeting.
Once in a while we are reminded that we "don't really belong here." Usually it's when we are doing "the schlep," for folks who have made it and can hire other folks to do the schlep for them. We work for other folks. At the same time, we are often, usually, surprisingly, welcomed with open arms. Most of the wealthy, accomplished, non-schleppers that we know are thoughtful, kind, generous, open-minded, and giving.
What's the point of all this? Place is important: where you live, who you meet, what you do, how you carry yourself, the stories you tell yourself, and others. Sure, you are a weirdo, an odd-duck character, unique, strange, perpetual-misfit and underdog, unlike other folks in your orbit. And that's a good thing. You know, head held high. Damn the torpedoes.
