Ahh, the city. I'd forgotten how much I miss it. Ok, not really, I knew all along how much I missed it. But I HAD forgotten certain aspects that you don't really notice until you're gone.
Take for example the spit on the sidewalks. Living in Ann Arbor, you don't see a lot of people spitting on the sidewalk, but it's almost impossible to avoid in the city. Every street thug or wannabe seems to have this part of their brain that compels them to shoot high-velocity phlegm balls, usually as people walk past. There's some hidden social pecking-order thing going on here, in this distribution of spit. Looking down at the concrete, you see blobs of yellow, brown and green scattered around. It creates a kind of urban mucous maze that must be navigated with skill and precision, lest you step on a gob.
Part of me thinks this would make a great art exhibit. Macro photographs of phlegm, enlarged and mounted in some trendy art gallery in pioneer square. Black suited intelligentsia standing around discussing how, like the city itself, each gob is filled with life, millions of organisms trying to make it. It's all bullshit of course, but if I can get some yuppies to give me money for pictures of spit, so be it.
( more bullshit )