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It’s about 2 p.m. at the corner of Lawrence and Ravenswood. The sun is blazing. The humidity soaring. Not a breeze to be felt. Across the street, the bank thermometer reads 102. The asphalt filling a pothole feels spongy. A more inhospitable corner would be hard to find.
Suddenly, an oasis appears. A pushcart vendor is selling Popsicles.
I wouldn’t have traded this guy for all the fiberglass cows and Roaring ’20s lampposts in the world.
