The (Non)Culture of Tourism

As mentioned in my last post, I have some amazing friends here in Chicago. Kent, Steve-o, and Shannon have clued me to the best parts of Chicago. They know the best eats, neighborhoods, records stores, bars, coffee shops, and bookstores. If not for them, I'd probably spend my days going from Starbucks, to the Sears Tower, to Applebees.

Because of places like Doug's Dawgs (see previous post), I have realized that there is no culture in tourism.

The (Non)Culture of Tourism...(how it works, and, oh, how sad it is...)
One generation builds or creates something beautiful, innovative, and personal - thus it becomes culturally significant to a specific group of people at that time. The idea of their creation starts to radiate out to a wider and wider audience until the next generation sucker fishes onto some generalized version of the original idea (by this time, the original creators of the idea have moved on and are horrified at the monster they created). Then, the final stage on the tourism death continuum is corporatization. People in board rooms see dollar signs instead of culture and then it's all over.

For Example (My Nod to Wrigley)...
I drove by Wrigley Field today, easily one of the most famous and recognizable baseball stadiums in the country. With it's familiar, big red sign right on the corner of Addison and Clarke, it's ivy covered center-field wall, and it's classic (undigitized) green score board, Wrigley has become a visual representation of Chicago's soul (maybe America's too).

There is no doubt, that the stadium has cultural significance for the city (they nickenamed the whole neighborhood Wrigley-ville, for cripes sake). However, it is clear that the stadium has easily shifted into the reverence stage for locals and into the corporatization stage for everyone else. When I asked Kent about the Wrigley-ville neighborhood, he quipped, "You mean bro-ville"(aka a frat boy neighborhood). The area around Wrigley-ville has become a murders row of fast food chains and neon signs. Across the street from the famous Wrigley Field sign is a Taco Bell on one corner and a McDonald's on the other. Any space that isn't taken by a chain restaurant is filled by corporate sports bars that try hard to fit the local aesthetic but still feel like Time Square to me. And there right in the middle of the greed fueled, feeding frenzy is Wrigley Field.

Wrigley sits like a proud but sad elder statesman... like the Native America in an PSA that sheds a tear when someone liters...like the aging lion preparing to be torn about by the surrounding hyenas.



Recommended Reading....Philip Roth's The Great America Novel.
The Great American Novel consists of the fictional baseball fables from America's forgotten Patriot league. Roth perfectly and humorously balances the beauty and meaning of baseball with its dark underbelly.