During weather like this, I always think of these lines from the Pogues' "Fairytale of New York":
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind blows right through you
It's no place for the old
Walking north from my train wasn't too bad this morning, but when I briefly turned west, the wind all but "blew right through me." I could swear I felt my forehead start to freeze solid. Thank goodness I could turn north again after only one block. In this weather, Chicago's no place for the old. Or the young either.
So are you implying that you are old? Or young? And Joliet is no place for the old today either. Brrrrrrrrr
Posted by: Julie at Feb 10, 2011 9:39:58 AM