OK, so much for getting to see Obama’s house: the Chicago Police have all streets blocked a quarter of a mile from his house, which is on a major bus route. This is causing a lot of disgruntled honking, which balances out the cautiously happy mood on the street. I’m at Jimmy’s Woodlawn Tap, a U of Chicago bar about a half mile from Obama’s place. The joint is full put not packed, extra bartenders on duty, U of C students (The U of C mottos: Where Fun Goes to Die, and Where the Only Thing That Goes Down is Your GPA), with some neighborhood old-timers. When I pulled out my laptop at the bar, this drunk old fuck hectored me about how laptops have no place in bars. Alice Lemieux, grad student in Linguistics, is sharing a table with me (we both broke for it at once). She’s from Vancouver, but did her undergrad at Washington. She’s here for the Gregoire-Rossi results, and is cautiously optimistic, but everyone in Hyde Park is pro-Obama, says it’s a bubble. She sends greetings to Aiko and Martha, friends she misses.

Next stop for this wandering reporter: Bronzeville, then Bridgeport.