Well, they do have those same fake downtown “trolleys” here.
That’s not all Chicago and New Haven have in common. Sure, one’s a metropolis. One’s not. But consider this: they both have hyperlocal online news websites launched by refugees of the Tribune Co.
Actually, a whole bunch of cities have gotten similar websites lately. Which is how this two-city comparison got started.
The Society of Professional Journalists decided that mainstream journalists should hear about this trend at the organization’s annual convention — here in Chicago. The group asked J‑Lab to organize a panel. The panel takes place Thursday. J‑Lab invited some online journalists to participate.
J‑Lab was generous enough to fly a New Haven Independent representative here and spring for a room at Chicago’s swanky Hyatt Regency. The bill for one night: $275.81 (including tax). That doesn’t count the $1 per minute local phone calls. Or the $4 single servings of OJ or $5 beer you get charged for if you lift one of the little bottles off the sensors inside the room’s mini-fridge. (The desk clerk warns you in advance.) Insight number one from the low-budget online journalism world offered to mainstream media looking for how to devote more of its money to real reporting again rather than corporate waste: Book next year’s convention in New Haven. New Haven, like Chicago, has a swanky hotel surrounded by great restaurants and plenty of fun. But it costs a lot less.
Chicago, like New Haven, has cops on horseback.
This synagogue, just like ones in New Haven, faced a typical weekday afternoon problem Wednesday: finding enough Jews to constitute a prayer quorum. The rabbi got on the phone and did succeed in rounding up the required ten souls, and then some.
Chicago, like New Haven, has friendly bus drivers. Though it’s hard to imagine a warmer, more personable bus driver than Rena (pictured). She steers the King Drive #3 bus. She greets all riders with a smile. She gently helps the old people find their way.
And, with remarkable instincts, she points the way for befuddled visitors from New Haven.
Consider this exchange Wednesday.
“Does this bus go all the way to 75th St. East?”
“Yes it does. You going to the vegetarian restaurant?”
“How did you know?” The street and restaurant in question are miles down the road.
“Where else would you be going on the South Side? Maybe if you had a girlfriend therre… But you wouldn’t have a girlfriend there. Not in that neighborhood. I know my neighborhood!”
Rena grew up on the South Side. She left to spend four years in college in Alabama, then a year in Atlanta. Then she returned home and hasn’t left since. Besides driving the bus she cooks and waitresses at catering jobs. Her daughter just entered the University of Illinois at Chicago, where she’s studying business.
“When you get to the restaurant, tell Jack that Rena said hi. You’ll know him when you see him. He looks like a black version of Osama bin Laden. You’re going to say, ‘That’s bin Laden with some make-up!’”
Unlike Chicago, New Haven doesn’t have an all-vegan soul food restaurant run by members of a local Black Hebrews community…
… where you can order a scrumptious “South BBQ Twist Sandwich”…
… followed by warm corn bread and washed down with a refreshing strawberry-and-protein powder smoothie. Turns out you can order kosher vegan soul food by mail.
Rena’s friend Jack was nowhere to be found at Soul Vegetarian Wednesday evening. Nor was there sign of any bin Laden lookalikes. Dr. AviMelech was there, instead. He’s a resident scholar for the Black Hebrews; he said the group is based largely here on Chicago’s South Side and in Jerusalem. New Haven had a sizable group from his orgnaization back in the day, he said, but “all the New Haven people went to Israel 25 years ago.” Dr. AviMelech also works with an African-American-Jewish reconciliation alliance. He greeted a New Haven visitor with a hearty “Mah shlomchah!“ (Loose Hebrew translation: “How’s it shaking?”) Upon learning the visitor was both kosher and vegan, he added, “Baruch ha bah! Wecome to the promised land!” His goodbye? A bear hug.