I am in the Chicagoland area, visiting my family as usual for the holidays. I love this city and would move back here in a heartbeat, but for its brutal winters (it has been hovering near zero for the last few nights, with daytime temps in the single digits). But the rest of the time, Chicago is a joy, and never has it been more joyful than this past September, when more than 20,000 people pulled off a massive surprise for an unsuspecting Oprah Winfrey during the Oprah Show’s 24th season kickoff party, held on Chicago’s Miracle Mile on North Michigan Avenue. The entire crowd performed a choreographed flash mob dance to the Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling.”

Oprah, who was obviously shocked and thrilled by the surprise, showed the video from that event on today’s show and interviewed two of the people who were dancers. One said that her favorite part of the dance was when everyone was hunched over with their hands on the backs of the person in front of them. Amazed no one seemed to care that they were being touched by total strangers and elbowed by dancers aside them, the woman speculated there would be world peace if everyone lived with that kind of spirit and happiness. Another participant said that he still remembers the steps and whenever he is havingh a bad day, he closes the door to his office and dances to the video of the event. He described the portion of the dance where participants put their palms together in prayer fashion and raised their arms to the sky as “Joy Rising.” I watched the video three times and got goosebumps each time. Take a look:

My wish for everyone in 2010 is “Joy Rising.”

I’m a Chicago girl, born and bred. There – I’ve said it! It would seem like an easy thing to admit, but for the past 40 years, whenever anyone asked me where I was from I’d reply with some vague comment like: “Oh, I’ve lived all over the place.” Which is true. But it begs the question of why I have always been reticent about admitting my Chicago roots. Perhaps I thought some of the places I’ve lived (Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands) sounded more exotic, more impressive.

To be honest, I couldn’t wait to get away from the city when I was younger. I yearned for wide open spaces, for remote places. I lived in the north woods of Wisconsin, in a log cabin with an outhouse, an outdoor hand pump for water, and a tiny oil heater for heat. During the winter I traveled to work on a snowmobile; in the summer I rode a bike. Eventually, I moved back to Illinois, but to a smaller town 60 miles southwest of Chicago. Back-to-back brutal winters in 1978 and 1979 drove me to the warmth of Phoenix for the next 11 years. It is said that people either love or hate the desert; I loved it. The endless, uninhabited spaces soothed my soul. Where others saw only a vast kitty litter box, I was fascinated by this complex ecosystem that hoarded energy through the searing summer heat, waited patiently through the cold desert nights, and burst into lush greenery and riotous wildflowers when the spring rains came.

From Phoenix, to central Illinois, Indiana, the Caribbean, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I searched for my paradise, but all of these places fell short of the perfection I sought. Even Sarasota, Florida, where I now reside, is somehow lacking, though it offers an uncommonly large number of amenities for a city of its size. Gradually, I began sampling larger cities. Business trips to New York and visits with my family in the Chicagoland area left me energized and longing for the culture that only a large city affords. And then fate intervened…I decided to attend two blogging conferences, both of which were held in downtown Chicago last week.

View of new Modern Wing of the Chicago Art Institute, opened in May of 2009, from Lurie Gardens in Millennium Park.

Original Art Institute, cultural mecca of Chicago, with its iconic lions guarding the front entrance on Michigan Ave.

Gardens at the original Art Institute

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Although I was born and raised in Chicago, I left the moment I was old enough to be on my own. I couldn’t wait to get out of the city; I wanted nothing to do with it. Over the years I moved frequently, always choosing fairly remote areas. Several years ago, however, I started to miss the kind of cultural opportunities that only cities can provide and, following a two-year long search, moved to Sarasota, Florida.

Jersey Boys theater marquee

While I like Sarasota – it’s a delightful mid-size city with a strong arts and culture community – I find I am more and more drawn to the big cities, and so I was really looking forward to my annual holiday trip to visit my family in the greater Chicagoland area. I had plans. I wanted to go to the blues clubs and the comedy clubs. I wanted to attend the theater in Chicago’s Loop. I wanted to walk around the incredible new Millennium Park on Michigan Avenue. I contemplated walking the Magnificent Mile on north Michigan Avenue and hoped to visit the world class Museum of Science and Industry, Field Museum, Art Institute, Shedd Aquarium, and Palomar Observatory. I had everything figured out. Everything, that is, except the weather.

Since my arrival on December 15th, we’ve suffered freezing rain, ice storms, multiple snowstorms, 45 mile per hour winds, and a week-long stint of sub-zero temperatures. With my departure looming, my two sisters, my niece, and I decided to take the train into the Loop to see Jersey Boys. We arrived in the city by 8 a.m. and stood in line to buy one of ten $25 front row seats that are released each morning for that day’s matinee and evening performances. Since we were waiting outside for two hours in 28 degree temperatures, we were chilled to the bone by the time the doors opened, but because we were first in line we got front row center seats. Read the rest of this entry »