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.