Diversity is a street between Belmont and Fullerton. More precisely it is smack dab in the middle (2800 north in Chicago navigational parlance) of several streets between Belmont (3200 north) and Fullerton (2400 n.) . And, as long as we are being truthful, it is Diversey and not Diversity. Tell that to all the El train conductors who used to announce the next stop along the way after the Fullerton stop to give those of us in the 1960’s a chance to switch to a B train. Of course, nowadays the human conductor has been replaced by an authoritarian robotic command. Regardless, herein lies the irony.
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Category: West Rogers Park
First Dates
By Larry Teren
As I got past the teenage years, my father stopped trying to do me favors; well- for the most part. Once in my very early twenties he suggested I make a date to take out the sister-in-law of a younger friend of his. I emphatically explained to him that I did not call up girls on blind dates. I first had to, you know, see what they looked like. Not that I had Errol Flynn looks but I had to protect my fragile ego.
Dad pushed the issue. He was even willing to lend me his car on a Saturday night. Huh? The only time I got his gold colored 1970 Chevrolet was when I would first drive Ma to the Mayflower Supermarket to let her shop for food. Then, and only then, could I use the car afterward. Of course, with the deliberateness of the method Ma employed while out shopping in a large grocery store, it meant that I could expect to have the car to myself no earlier than 9pm.
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