Let the games begin...

Today’s commute started out like any other. I bundled up against the cold, left my apartment building, climbed the steps to the el platform, boarded the train, and proceeded to read my paper, completely ignoring everyone and everything going on around me. It really is amazing the way I tune everything out. My oldest friend could sit down next to me and I would not notice. (Actually, once I did ride for 20 minutes sitting next to someone I know and didn’t realize it.) I just never look up, and I definitely never look out the window.

But today, I did happen to glance up and out the window, and to my surprise, I found that I couldn’t look away. We were just crossing the north branch of the river. A slight wind agitated the surface of the blue-green water, giving it a textured look. A morning mist hung over the bridges and buildings. Cars and people and boats moved along their way, making the scene look alive. There was Chicago, in all her urban splendor. And her beauty took my breath away.

I have these moments now and again, moments that remind me how lucky I am to be living here and how much I love this city. Every time I am caught off guard this way, I feel a bit guilty for having become so jaded. I’m grateful for these moments that remind me what it was like to see Chicago for the first time instead of the thousandth.

This particular episode got me thinking even more, though, because as the train crossed the river, my eyes fell on a banner spanning one of the bridges. It showed the gigantic arm span of a swimmer and was emblazoned with one word: IMAGINE. The banner was put up to promote Chicago’s bid for the 2016 Olympic Games as the International Olympic Committee visits the city this week.

From the moment we started vying for it, I’ve been against the Olympic bid. In fact, I thought it was somewhat of a joke. After all, our public transportation system is barely maintaining itself when all it has to transport is its regular load of commuters and tourists. How would we ever move the tens of thousands of athletes and spectators that the Olympics would draw? Four out of our last eight governors have been corrupt. How could we be trusted to handle the affairs of the entire world, even for a few weeks? Both the city and the state are in a constant budget crisis and we already have the highest taxes in the nation. How could we possibly finance the construction projects that hosting the games would require? Not to mention the whole issue of having to displace hundreds of low-income Chicago residents to house the athletes.

The bid just didn’t make sense to me. It seemed that even if the logistics could be worked out, it would still mean that for two weeks or more, it would be next to impossible for me to get anywhere on public transportation, and for who knows how long, I would be paying even more taxes than I do now. And sure, the Olympics would be here, but the chances I would have the opportunity or the money to actually see anything seemed slim. No, I just couldn’t bring myself to support the Olympic bid.

But things changed this morning. I admit that when I glanced up and saw Chicago as if for the first time, I also fell for the 2016 advertising scheme. I looked at that banner, and I IMAGINED. I imagined not what a Chicago Olympic games would be like not for me, but for all the athletes that would come here to represent their countries. Most of them will have never been here before, and I imagined that they would see Chicago the way I saw it this morning. I imagined that the beauty and power of this city would catch them off guard. And I imagined that they would smile and take in the moment, creating a memory that they would carry home with them later.

Suddenly I saw the Olympics as a way to share my love of this city with the world. I realized that a visit to Chicago could give the world’s athletes the memorable and awesome experience that those with their kind of dedication and passion deserve. I really believe that. This city has its problems, but at its core is a beauty that the world should see.

My concerns about the bid still remain, and I confess that if we do not win the bid, a large part of me will be relieved.

But deep down, I am rooting for Chicago, and a different part of me will be disappointed if we don’t get the games. They may make my life harder for a few weeks (or much, much longer), but they could also inspire the city as a whole to become a better place and inspire me to stop taking Chicago for granted.