“… But I Wouldn’t Want to Live There”

This is part one in a one-part series entitled “Why I live in Chicago,” in which I take a brief look at other nearby cities. In this installment, I took a road trip to Indianapolis.

What’s in Indianapolis? Um, let’s see. Um. Oh, I know! There’s the Indianapolis 500! Any town that can put “500” after it’s name has to be pretty cool, right? But wait, what do they do the rest of the year? Well, if Thursday night was any indication, not much.

Bang! Bang! and the Dials had to bring the punk rock all the way from Chicago. Really, their trailer was already pretty full. This was a big burden for anyone, but they did it. I could tell the audience was hungry for it, was starving for some good solid rock music, after listening to the country drudge that was playing when I rolled in. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not making fun of country music, but this wasn’t even good country music. This was the bad kind, the kind that makes you want to vote for George Bush. Heck, I almost wanted to vote for him after a few minutes there. The red-state vibe was that strong.

The headlining band (I have to at least make a mention of their name: “Creepin’ Charlie and the Bonewater Orchestra.” Although, I can’t even think of a joke. At the time I could only stare in shock. You know, like a car accident.) took a moment at midnight to thank everyone for “staying up so late to see them.” I know midnight is pretty late for some people, even in Chicago, though generally I don’t think those are the people who go out to see rock bands. Come on, though, midnight? What happened to staying up to watch the sun rise? Does that not happen in Indiana? Oh, yes, the time change. I forgot about that.

Really, what’s up with that time change? Pick a time zone, Indiana! Verizon took it upon itself to change my phone’s time without telling me, which made it really confusing, since everyone else I went with was still on Chicago time. I’m not even sure what calendar to use when I’m in Indiana; forget Gregorian, have they even switched to Julian? I’m pretty sure when I asked what day it was, someone told me it was Martius the 32nd. Which is weird, because Roman months only have up to 31 days. But then, this is Indiana.

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