The weekend was fleeting but I had fun. I managed to continue my boycott of Maxwell Street Days. Being from Chicago, I find it offensive that the once-a-year sale draws on the reputation of the venerable weekly bazaar of the Windy City. (Admittedly, the Maxwell Street Market was irrevocably changed in 1994 due to gentrification.) The Daily Page has a piece by Kristian Knutsen about how Maxwell Street Days has changed over the years. Still, Maxwell Street Days never could and never will have anything near the flavor of the Maxwell Street Market. The sights of hordes of white folks flashing American expressions so they can be urban outfitted is anathema to the whole ideal of the MSM. The MSM was about folks of all races & ethnicities getting together. It served as an incubator for the early Chicago blues scene and eventually saw one of my favorites, Hound Dog Taylor, playing there. Carl Sandburg immortalized the street in Fish Crier. The MSM wasn't about chains and people who could afford to rent a storefront on a city's most well-known street putting stuff outside, it was about people who couldn't afford stores. Where are all the hubcaps and butterfly knives that I saw for sale as a kid in Chicago? Where are all the people of color and average Janes and Joes who made the MSM not only a commercial enterprise, but also a folk culture gathering?
Go co-opt some other market's name and not one that helped define Chicago. Better yet, come up with something original. State Street Days or The Big Sale (The BS).
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