I wish I could say I fell in love with you the day we met. The truth is that I hardly even noticed you. I was searching for a decent college, not romance. You were just another city on the quest. The tour guides gushed over the beauty of the campus and referred to you only as an eccentric neighbor. They said I would be exasperated by your odd ordinances and your habit of asking for money when you can’t balance your checkbook. They misjudged you.
That first night of New Student Week you surprised me with the understated beauty of your residential neighborhoods and the vibrancy of your downtown. You’re certainly no Chicago, but you never wanted that anyway. You are the cranky middle ground between city and suburb, and I soon realized how attractive that is. You are the college town that disavows the accurate label. Denying the obvious is quite endearing.
You madden me with your contradictions. Much as you claim indifference, it is my money that allows you to stay healthy and attractive. Were it not for my patronage, how could you have ever become the “Dining Capital of the North Shore?” Now you contemplate extending the hours for parking meter enforcement downtown. Please abandon your stubbornness and listen to the restaurant owners. Asking your waiter for change and jogging out to the curb to pump in some quarters is a sure way to spoil a meal and discourage business. You’re pushing me away, and that makes me feel dirty and unwanted. Maybe you’re just playing hard to get.
When you finally approved a movie theater complex, I imagined many great nights with you. But the haughty letter your Human Relations Director recently sent to students about the condition of their off-campus apartments had about as much charm as a nagging mother. Can there be a greater turn-off?
Our arguments are nothing if not public. Two years ago, your Fair Share Action Committee advocated a referendum – which passed overwhelmingly – asking me for a greater financial contribution. You don’t think it’s fair that Northwestern doesn’t pay property taxes. We mooch like Kato Kaelin, but the U.S. Supreme Court honored the original charter. I admire your perseverance.
This self-consciously apathetic campus should take a lesson from you on how to challenge authority. Your Fair Share folks were back in action last week, suggesting that NU pay for Evanston Police Department traffic control at football games. I understand why you expect compensation for your work, but each ticket already provides you with an 11 percent entertainment tax. You want another $10,000 per home game for the police department’s services, but that would still leave you a few million dollars short of resolving the $4 million deficit.
In the spirit of the holiday, I will admit my mistake. Your effort to declare land adjacent to campus a historic district once seemed absurd. Buildings like the the Foster-Walker Complex have as much architectural value as Camp X-Ray. Assuming your motives are to protect your character from university administrators, I praise your foresight. I only wish you would have extended the boundaries to include the undeveloped portions of the Lakefill. Sometimes the least compromising love is the best love. Happy Valentine’s Day, Evanston.
