I adore The Onion. Especially all the op-ed pieces in the paper that tackle the common day to day concerns and experiences that we all share from time to time such as: “Why is it that my girlfriend insists on sticking around when I transform into a werewolf?” or “I don’t have time for non-controversial art exhibits.” Anyway, one train ride home I decided to write something in the spirit of those articles in order to pass the time. I thought up a couple of titles but am not completely satisfied with any of them so far. I’ve considered: “Indiana Jones and the City of Ingratitude” or “Did I don my Fedora and Bullwhip for This?” before settling on the title shown below. I got a couple of decent responses from friends, so I made a second draft and decided to post it here quickly before I completely lose my nerve to do so.
I don’t dress up like this because I love Archaeology.
Seriously. Why is it that the people of Chicago are not overwhelmed with the same feeling of awe and devotion that Indiana Jones invokes in me? In these troubled times, you’d think they’d feel comfortable and safe knowing that good ol’ Indy is sharing the same “L” platform with them, kissing their girlfriends, and prowling the streets of Chicago with his whip and gun ready to teach the forces of evil a lesson with a swift punch and timely one-liner. But no. Sadly enough I feel I have misread you America. My attempts at heroism have been rewarded with laughter, at best and assault charges and restraining orders, at worst.
Not long ago I was once like you, an overweight star trek fan with bladder trouble and with a distant hope that I would one day awake to find that I had superpowers. But then I met Indy. His friends call him Indy. 12,376 viewings later, he had imbued me with his charm and heroism. And for a brief honeymoon, it was so. I was the hit of my office party and felt on top of the world. But the next day when I showed up for work in my Indy outfit, the respect was gone. What happened? I was your beloved hero a day ago, and now you look at me with a smirk on your face, or fear in your eyes?
Over the past few years, I’ve become resigned to the fact that my efforts are not nearly as well received as his in the movies. My investigation into the curse of the Billy Goat was met with both laughter and some pending lawsuits (including an awkward bestiality charge that I’m sure will be dismissed when the full facts are brought to light.) Currently, I’ve been tracking the terrible CTA monster who lives beneath the city and subsists on the CTA revenue and tax hikes that the city feeds it. This effort too, has been met with derision.
For all my selflessness and bravery, what is my reward? I have swung through glass windows to bring this to the attention of friends and family yet my only rewards have been a herniated disk, some pretty nasty cuts, and a lot fewer party invitations. Where is your gratitude Chicago?
And it doesn’t get any better. I hang out smiling and brandishing my gun and whip on the brown line while making off-handed comments and practicing my boulder evasion techniques, and you won’t even look at me. Or if you do it’s with fear, not respect. And then the police come. Well I’m sick of it. Maybe you don’t deserve Indy, Chicago. Just remember next time when they raise taxes to “Fix the CTA”, good ol’ Indy might have been down in those sewers saying something hilarious while killing that monster, which rest assured would later be properly preserved and put in a museum for future generations to enjoy.