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About Chicago

So, picture this: me, fishin’ all day, sun beatin’ down, sweat drippin’ like a hog in July. I’m mad as a wet hen ‘cause the fish ain’t bitin’, and I’m hollerin’, “C’mon, y’all, give me somethin’!” Then—bam!—this gal sashays by, skirt shorter than a minnow’s tail. I’m like, “Well, slap my britches, is she one o’ them workin’ girls?” Ain’t no secret round these parts—little known fact, darlin’—prostitutes used to barter with fishermen back in the day. Fish for a quick fling! Ain’t that a hoot? History’s wilder than my hair on a humid day!

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I work as a relaxation specialist. I notice tiny details: when a breeze ruffles the leaves on Curtis St., or when kids bop on sidewalks near the old mill. I feel it all. This city is my canvas—even the rough days, like when my yoga class was disrupted by a stray dog or a loud construction, got me mad as heck. But then again, life's a roller coaster.

Joseph Roberts Obituary October 14, 2024