Chicago

When I tell someone my husband and I've moved 33 times in 50 years of marriage, there are usually remarks of astonishment, followed by, "Well then, you must be used to it."

No, you never get used to it.  When the boys were small, we'd go from a warm climate to cold, meaning a new wardrobe.  It would usually happen between the months of September and December, meaning a change of schools.  The Christmas gifts I put on layaway would have to be packed in the car along with clothes, boys, and dog.  I'm quite sure truckers all across the country could hear me shouting, "Keep away from that blanket!"  or "No, that's not a bicycle!" in an effort to surprise the boys on Christmas morning.

Culturally, things could be different across the street, especially in Chicago where neighborhoods are still pretty much divided ethnically.  Cicero is or was about all Italian.  Forest Park had a large German population.  Oak Park was about the only truly mixed community.  Rich, poor, racial diversity was all in the mix.

Of course, bumping up against those cultural differences always caused a problem.  For example, about every bank we've used everywhere but Chicago has no problem with wire transfers of money.  When we sold our house in Tennessee, the proceeds were wired to our bank account in Cicero and they were most unhappy about it.  It seems they have places in Chicago that do wire transfers, loan money against a future pay check, and do money orders.   The banks don't.  Oops.  Each time I make a cultural mistake, I vow I'll never make that one again.  I don't because it never comes up again.  It's always something new.  I've learned a lot through my mistakes.

Driving in Chicago can be a big challenge.  Many of the streets will allow traffic in the right lane, until a stop light.  Across the intersection, the right lane becomes parking.  Chicagoans love to pull up to the light in the right lane, then race you across the intersection to cut you off.  A taxi driver and I tried to make a 2 lane bridge into 3, with a bus coming the other direction.  I yielded on that one.  Another time, a woman cut me off and I honked at her.  She flipped me a bird.  Oh well, losing twice in four years isn't bad.