We know there are is no average Evanstonian. We all live here because we eschew the humdrum, the mediocre, the vanilla – the average. But the mean Evanstonian? The mean is the half-way point. The mean is of course the one in the middle; there is an equal number of things on each side of the mean, or above and below it.
But as there is no average Evanstonian, can there in fact be a mean one?
We will leave to mathematicians to solve the Evanston and Lake Woebegone conundrums.
Meanwhile, we wonder whether these apply to at least half of the population:
You were born here.
You know the difference between the Red Line and the Purple Line.
You call the North Shore Channel “the canal.”
As a teenager, you were part of Brillianteen, Haven Help Us or another musical production.
A trip to James Park is one of your regular commutes.
At least one person in your family has used the Richard Hunt sculpture by Presbyterian Homes as a slide.
You have protested something that some elected body – City Council, one of the School Boards, a committee or a commission – proposed.
You love the Library.
And the lake.
You have watched a sunrise, a moon-rise or a meteor shower from the lakefront.
You know at least the first verse to “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing.”
You remember the “Ski Evanston” campaign when Mt. Trashmore was created – before all those sticky lawsuits.
You still have – or wish you had – a Chandler’s notebook.
You remember when you couldn’t get a beer without paying for a whole meal.
You are pretty sure you have a better idea or could do it better than whoever’s in charge.
Your Library card is more worn out than your credit card.
You have gotten, undeservedly of course, a parking ticket.
