Last night, I awoke from a terrible dream. It was one in which, horror of horrors, the Northwestern administration had somehow found the hubris to offer Evanston a gift. Suddenly, my stomach dropped: Just a week ago, we had given them a fire truck. Quelle horreur!
My brow knitted and my skin paled at the very thought of it. Clearly, this new administration doesn’t understand how to supplicate such ethereal and divine creatures as Evanston residents. I hastened to my computer to correct the problem, knowing full well the only appropriate offering is a paean of humble admiration.
Just consider the superhuman resolution Evanston residents have demonstrated in their long, hostile campaign known as town-gown relations. Without fail, year after trying year, they’ve resolutely beaten the same gong that calls out with each strike: More taxes on the University! More taxes!
For years – nay, decades – the drive up Sheridan Road has been a miserable one for the residents of Evanston. It sounds blasphemous but it’s true: Northwestern pays no property tax on its holdings. Hands trembling and eyes blazing, Evanston residents drive back to their multimillion-dollar homes and sullenly renew their grim commitment to bravely shoulder the burden of living in the same town as a world-class research university, waiting until the day they can seize the whip from that feline tyrant Willie.
Continue on, dear reader, lest you think the Evanston resident is a mere partisan of taxation issues. It’s Northwestern’s groveling mass of students that truly ignites his anger. Ugh – the resident feels his fingers begin to twitch in that familiar 9-1-1 pattern just at the thought of that purple horde.
Perhaps it’s his detestation of the student body that excites my admiration of the Evanston resident most quickly. For our intrepid resident to move within a quarter mile of 8,000 students and still expect to remain wholly unbothered requires not just a deep sense of conviction, it requires a truly lofty vision for the neighborhood.
And how cruelly Northwestern students treat the blameless Evanston resident. Just look at the way these slobbering idiots foul up the once-sweet Evanstonian air. Oftentimes before football games, the Northwestern student can be found grilling and even drinking beer. I hate to write it in such vulgar detail, but I think it’s necessary for the lay reader to understand from what vile slings and arrows the brave Evanston resident must shield himself.
But perhaps, one day, the gods shall smile on us and the Evanston resident shall learn to tolerate the existence of such a rathole as Northwestern University. Until then, I can only offer up this petty column as tribute to their patience and civility.
Weinberg senior Mac LeBuhn can be reached at [email protected].
