"A Little Slice of Paradise"

[Ski]

I consider myself an amateur writer, and when something catches my fancy, I'll start writing. This is a piece (almost like a newspaper column, I think) that just hit me and ran. Comments, suggestions, etc. are greatly appreciated.

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A Little Slice of Paradise

Ah, paradise. Everyone's looking for it. Peace and quiet, a gentle island breeze, warm and sunny weather. That sounds like a nice idea, right?

Not for me.

Don't get me wrong, the “tropical island” paradise is a great way to live, but I would never be able to tolerate that. I have a different vision of paradise.

Come with me, on a journey to my happy place, somewhere I've already found—Chicago, Illinois. Yes indeed, this is my paradise, my sanctuary, my heaven. Forget peace and quiet; as a lullaby, almost nothing beats the roar of a Boeing 757 hauling thousands of pounds of cargo as it zooms a hundred feet above your bed. It's even better when those jets serenade you while a chorus of loaded freight trains provide a perfect harmony.

You never need a radio in paradise. The sounds of the city blend into the most beautiful symphony you could ever experience. It starts with that unique tire-on-pavement sound. Follow that with horns, as people beep away in a language known to all of the city's drivers. A low rumble joins in the medley, as some will look up to see the “L,” with yet another train rolling past. Top it off with a siren rushing to someone's rescue, and you have the soundtrack of Utopia.

It must be paradise when crossing the street in one piece is­ a feat worthy of bragging. It's no wonder the people you see walking downtown look so healthy. While on the subject of people, have you ever seen living, breathing theatre? Not unless you've seen the people of Chicago. You'll find every kind of person imaginable: rich and poor, young and old, sane and—most definitely—crazy. The proof that this is paradise? It's all free.

People often talk about paradise as being warm and sunny. That's boring. I like variety in my weather. Heat waves, bitter cold, rains, blizzards, storms, high winds; Chicago has them all. The best part? You have absolutely no idea what's going to come tomorrow. How's that for adventure? Variety really is the spice of life.

Are you having trouble finding your own paradise? Forget the stereotype. Make your own life a paradise. Seek what makes you happy. There's a bit of perfection in everyone's life. Search for it, and watch the flaws disappear.

[May]

I really like what you wrote Ski. I especially liked the part about all of the noises you'll hear. Keep up the great work!

[ria]

Heheheheh, real nice Ski!

I love the imagery and details and everything!

Keep up the nice work!

[pipsqueeek]

This was really good. I, too, love the part about the sounds. I think it was the way you have them building up to one big finale, almost like a musical piece where the instruments join in one by one, starting with the softer ones such as flutes and ending with the brass in a big crashing climax. There's also quite a bit of flavorful language in there. And I love the contrast about the roar of a plane being a lullaby.

It was interesting reading(re-reading) this after spending the weekend in chicago. I'm a country girl myself, but it grew on me while I was there. And by the end I was even sort of getting used to the crazyness involved with crossing the street. There's only one lighted crosswalk in my town(no wait, two, one in front of the elementart school). And it's not even mine really, it's the one next to mine. Mine doesn't even have sidewalks, the closest(and nearly only) public building to my house is a mile away, and I'm one of the closest to it. So it was a bit of a change. But I can see how you would call it paradise.