I wrote this the first Christmas after I moved from the frozen north to sunny Florida. Merry Christmas.
No El, no elves at Marshall Field, no carols in the snow, no boozy, bluesy Wells Street bars, no Second City show. No Brookfield penguins on the rocks, no windy cityscape, no tower view of Navy Pier, no skaters on the lake. No Calumet expressway, jammed and iced on Christmas day. No steamy, smoky place to go to watch Da Bears at play. No more Shear Madness in the north. No, here the weather’s swell. No reason to be sad, no. Kiss the gang and say NOEL.