I never wanted to live in Chicago. It was always supposed to be New York.
The pre-internet half of my childhood was full of classic movies, music, and television. I’d watch King Kong climb the Empire State Building, listen to Frank Sinatra start spreadin’ the news, get up early to watch the balloons march past Macy’s, and stay up late to see the ball magically defy gravity until the stroke of midnight. I was captivated by the Big Apple.
“If not New York then I'll settle for Hollywood,” I told myself, and set my sights on either coast. Every thought I had, every song I sang, and every movie I watched seem to pull me in diametrically opposed directions. Movies: LA! Plays: New York City! My own TV show: Hollywood! Musicals: New York!
Between my junior and senior years of high school I went to Chicago for the first (and I’m sure I imagined on that trip, my last) time, to audition for two colleges: New York University (Tisch) and the University of Southern California.
First came NYU, for three very serious people in a very serious room. I had a terrible audition. I was a small town kid in the big city for the first time and it got to me. I was nervous and it showed.
After that, I calmed down and had a good audition for USC. I was more confident and felt better afterwards.
My folks made me apply to the University of Kansas, too, so I would have a back-up plan in case I didn’t get into NYU or USC. I did, but there’s no way I would have gone there. I hate back-up plans and how was I supposed to stay in Kansas when I’d spent my entire childhood dreaming of one of the coastal cities?
Weeks later I got a short letter from NYU letting me know I hadn’t gotten accepted. It was disappointing but I knew it was coming. A few days after that, a large packet from USC arrived and I was accepted into the acting program. I was ecstatic. It was incredible - I would be going to one of my dream schools. (I had done it all thanks to hard work since my parents couldn’t afford to bribe my way in.)
I spent a year in California before my father passed away and I had to return to Kansas. I miserably finished school back home before heading back out to LA to “make it”…whatever that means. I slept on couches, struggled, and failed. Back to the Sunflower State I went again.
Soon after I proposed to my wife and we started planning our next move. We would save money and move to New York instead. I worked multiple jobs and moonlighted as an entertainer, while she finished school. Somewhere between summer and winter (fall, perhaps?) Steph thought we should start with Chicago first. She had friends there. It was closer to her family. She’d never lived in a huge city before. We could start there, then head to NYC after a couple years. “Okay,” I said, “will you be there?” (A longstanding joke with Steph about how I will have fun anywhere as long as I’m with her.)
With the exception of a year-long performance contract at Disney World, we’ve been in Chicago ever since. We moved here in 2011 and we’re coming up on 9 years. That’s about 8 years longer than I’d expected and the truth is, I never wanted to be here.
Most of the time I've still been thinking about LA or NYC and longing for another shot at succeeding there. I’ve spent countless hours comparing the worst parts of The Windy City to the best parts back east and out west. Every year I think we may move out there, then things happen. I dislocate a shoulder or wreck our car; one of us needs surgery or we encounter something equally unexpected, so we crack open our piggy bank like the glass jar in “UP” and use that “big city move money” for something else. Those big cities? Still on the back burner.
But here’s the thing...
I was in LA two weeks ago and it was my least favorite trip to SoCal I’ve ever had. I spent most of the time stuck in traffic. I was able to catch up with family briefly but it was so short that I didn’t really feel like I even saw the city. Usually I go to the ocean or a museum or something, but this time wasn’t special at all.
Then, I went to NY last weekend to see a Broadway show. The trip was fun but unfortunately all I remember is trash piled high on the ground and people constantly getting in my way everywhere I went. The subway was disgusting, the Museum of Natural History was disappointing, and everything is comically overpriced. It’s filthy and smelly and crowded. I’m still in awe of the opportunity and enormity of it all but the shine is starting to wear off.
When we flew in I could see the Chicago skyline beyond the wing of the plane and I had a feeling that I’ve ignored for far too long. I smiled to myself and realized how much I’ve grown to like it here.
At a moment’s notice I get to run along Chicago’s lake front; truly one of the best routes in the entire world. We have incredible food here and it’s allowed me to transform from a picky eater in my teenage years to a bit of a “foodie”. We have amazing museums, gorgeous architecture, and the best skyline views you’ll find anywhere. We have AMCs for the latest movies and a cinema within walking distance that still shows films on film. There’s amazing art - music, theater, comedy, and more - that never ceases to inspire me. And we have a small but amazing apartment with gorgeous views that I share with my best friend and the furriest, sweetest two cats you’ve ever seen. We wake up every day with plenty of space to sip coffee, do our crosswords, and be happy in this small corner of the world that we get to call our own.
Much of my life has been spent thinking about the next thing. The next show, the next year, the next plan, the next move to the next big city. But I’m done with all of that. From now on I’m only thinking about one thing: how lucky I am to be right here, right now.
