Here We Are Tour Diary: Chicago
The Deep Dish
Gazing at Fulton Market’s new, twinkling skyline on Celadyne’s rooftop, I take another bite of alt-protein tuna. The flavor profile and texture need work, but its getting there.
I sigh. While I’m willing to make such sacrifices to help humanity, I know most humans aren’t. That’s the grand challenge: alternatives need to taste better, drive faster, cost less, and so forth, than what we’re used to. Otherwise, mass adoption isn’t possible until its too late—in other words, when there’s way too many mouths seeking too few salmon stuffed to the gills with microplastics.
Mind wandering, I can’t escape the irony of where I’m standing. Fulton Market, the former meat packing center of the US, is now an epicenter for alternative protein innovation. Alright, focus, Matt, summon your A-game. Despite an exhausting first day of the tour, I need to stand in front of a room of people and pretend to be energetic.
I do a few jumping jacks to get my blood flowing and glide into the room. “Hellooo Chicago!” I belt out. Former colleagues complained about my booming voice, but it has served me well in silencing bustling rooms full of buzzed climate warriors over the years.
I do the song and dance, pointing out climate tech founders (heroes) in the room and thanking sponsors. Sara Chamberlain from Earth Foundry turns the table and thanks me, saying it took me coming to Chicago to bring together a group like this. Hopefully this doesn’t need to be the case in the future, I think to myself.
A burst of energy flows through my body, and I’m sentimental. I take in the crowd in front of me. This is what its all about. A community coming together to solve the most challenging obstacle humanity has faced. Even if I’m murdered in the ERV at the campsite I’m staying at tonight, at least my life force was leveraged for good—and at the very least it would make for an entertaining true crime mini-series.
I wrap up by telling everybody my favorite deep dish so far is Pequod’s, but I’m open to suggestions. As expected, my closing statement is met with a mixture of laughs, cheers, and boos. Love Chicago.
Craving sleep and facing an hour-long drive to the Indian Dunes, I connect with sponsors while plotting my Irish goodbye. Chatting with Jonathan from DLA Piper, I discover he’s from Kingston, Ontario. Shut the front door. Yesterday, a Canadian founder invited me to Kingston to record a podcast episode and DJ a houseboat party. “Are you gonna do it?” Jonathan chuckles. “In what world wouldn’t I?” I reply quickly. Note: Dear readers, I assume you’ve already gotten a sense of my YOLO approach to life.
Curious, Jonathan escorts me down to The Beast. “This is amazing,” Jonathan exclaims while examining The Beast’s Climate Tech Cocktails wrap. “Let me know if you ever want us to sponsor future events wherever we have offices,” he offers, generously. “Thank you, I really appreciate it, but at this rate, I don’t see more events in my future,” I respond as I climb into the driver’s seat, bidding adieu.
I drive away from Chicago’s bustling streets listening to “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” as the plexiglass window clatters against the metal door frame. I pull up to the entrance of the Indiana Dunes campsite at midnight and a friendly Park Ranger welcomes me. Ahhh, the bed in the back is calling me.
“Did you see any cop cars when you were driving in?” the ranger asks, seemingly excited. “Ummm…no, why?” You gotta be kidding me… “Oh, there was just a high-speed chase through the campsite! They don’t realize the highway leads directly here. Happens all the time,” he explains calmly. Maybe that whole getting murdered in a campsite thing wasn’t a joke, after all.
Reviewing my campsite reservation, the ranger notices I’m at the wrong location. “You’re actually at another site a few miles down the road,” he says while kindly describing how to get there. Thank goodness, I think. Get me outta here. “High speed chases typically head in that direction, as well?” I kid. Mr. Ranger wasn’t amused.
Finally parking in my spot, I wish I’d brought my “That was easy,” Staples button with me on tour. I stumble out of The Beast. Legs stiff from the drive, I stretch, reaching up to the dark, star studded Indiana sky. The scent of the forest and the silence of nature calm me. I wipe tears from my face, staring at The Best in its resting place. I’m not sure if they’re tears of joy or exhaustion. Perhaps a mixture of both.
It’s important to remember what’s ultimately driving me, I contemplate. My love for and intimate connection with nature. And somehow my continual need to put the lives of others in front of my own led me here…cue therapy. Curling up in bed, I unashamedly cuddle with the plush stuffed koala ‘Santa’ gifted me at the Hoffman retreat last month. My spirit animal. Remember all I’ve learned.
“I’m doing great,” I tell myself. I doze off underneath a canopy of trees, grateful to be alive and on an adventure of a lifetime.
Thx for sharing. Any wisdom for the crowd gathering for SFCW?