“New York, N.Y., it’s a wonderful town.” You’re in a New York state of mind when you go there. Everyone wants a bite of the Big Apple.

Those are all good, trite phrases for America’s biggest city, and I do agree with them. But I’m like Frank Sinatra: Chicago’s my kind of town.

You hear tons and tons of reasons why you shouldn’t go to Chicago. It’s too cold, the people are jerks and not as hospitable as the people down here in the South. Blah, blah, blah.

Nonsense.

I went to that beautiful city for the fifth time last weekend, and every time I leave, I get really bummed. That’s what going to a college in a lame town does to you.

There was a point in my life when I raved on and on about New York City and how I wanted to live there. But after going to Chi-town so many times, that plan has changed.

The people in Chicago are the best. It has a great mixture of people.

I’ve seen some wackos, and I say that with sincere amazement.

My friend and I went into this bookstore and saw a guy with a humongous afro. He was wearing a tight white tee shirt, hot pink bloomers, long tube socks and classic Chuck Taylors.

We were confused. We didn’t know we would run into one of Cher’s backup dancers.

It’s great because Chicago’s one of those places where almost everything is acceptable. Maybe because there aren’t many conservatives there. (Hey, yesterday was the one-year anniversary of the election, so a cheap shot had to be inserted.)

Another example of wackiness was at a show last Friday night when I overheard this dysfunctional couple discuss their lives. They looked like they were posing for “Look at Me, I’m Emo! Digest.”

But it’s never awkward when you’re discussing food in Chicago.

And you can always rely on its great music scene. Hello, Wilco.

Just about every great indie rock act makes sure to put Chicago on the top of its list of places to perform.

I went to the greatest record store on the planet, Reckless Records. It was like Championship Vinyl from “High Fidelity.” I went there, and I’m now broke from buying so many albums. Oh, well.

The only problem I have with Chicago is how spaced out it is. That’s what I loved about New York, the clutteredness.

But, hey, one con out of 87 thousand pros ain’t bad.

“Chicago is calling me home…”

Amber North is the Herald assistant sports editor and humor columnist.

You can reach her
at ambanorth@hotmail.com.