Chris Erskine: Into the belly of Chicago, my ancestral comfort zone
CHICAGO _ In our last installment, I'd been pantsed by the TSA, fleeced by the rental car company, and nearly hammered to death by mosquitoes in the hometown I hadn't visited in five years.
Do not become alarmed. This is pretty much how I always roll.
Now we're leaving behind the malarial joys of the northwest suburbs for the city, which is really where my heart resides. My guitar gently weeps for Chicago, my ancestral comfort zone.
Cue John Prine. Turn on the
