My Kind of Town

Love of a city is a special kind of love. For some, it can be as powerful as love for another human being. People long for their cities when they are separated for too long; they reminisce about their cities when they are in other cities; and they gloat about them, as if they are proud parents.

I spent the past week in Chicago with four of my friends from the Johnson School. We picked Chicago as our destination almost at random--our only criterion was to be in an exciting place, where hot spots and history abound. I also had the good fortune of seeing my two best friends from high school, who live there now, and they showed us some of the magic of their city.

As MBAs, most people have two main questions lingering in their minds with everything they do: what company do I want to work for; and where is that company located. Some of us are driven by the need to try someplace new--to keep ramblin' on. Others seek their hometowns and proximity to family and friends. Most of us, given the flexibility, will ultimately follow the job of our dreams to whatever promised land it forces upon us. Lucky for us, it's far easier to fall in love with a city than with a person. Cities take us in, accommodate us with restaurants and nightlife, relax us with bookstores and coffee shops, fuel our minds with history, music, and art--and they all do it so well and so differently.

We had so much fun in Chicago and it's hard to say whether it was because of Chicago--jazz at the Green Mill, watching the Bulls lose, improv in Wrigleyville, limitless sushi, the list goes on--or because of the people I was there with. My guess is a bit of both, but mostly the people.