I didn’t expect to find peace at the neighborhood Walgreens, but it didn’t hurt to ask. The gulf war was still raging, and like everyone, I wanted it to end.
Nor did I really think I’d find peace at Venture, especially when I noticed Snoopy and Woodstock emblazoned on T-shirts above the slogan “U.S.A. Number 1.” Yet I couldn’t resist asking.
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I did, however, expect to find peace at the University of Illinois Circle Center Bookstore, but instead I found a floor-to-ceiling display of American flags, “Support Our Troops” yellow ribbon ($8.50 a roll), and Saddam Hussein voodoo dolls. The ad copy on the dolls mentioned something about how using them could release frustration.
I did find peace at Boogies Diner, a restaurant/clothing store at Rush and Walton. Our young waiter wore a metal peace symbol around his neck and a Stars and Stripes T-shirt.
I almost bought the same peace-symbol necklace that our waiter wore, but it was $14.99 and didn’t have a proper chain, just a fabric cord. I remembered the peace symbol I wore 20 years ago–bought for a dollar at Bizarre Bizaar, that warehouse on Wells that sold nothing but clothes, jewelry, and paraphernalia dedicated to 60s rebellion.
The display window brandished a flag as big as a tablecloth. T-shirts covered with flags, “I love America,” and “Don’t Mess With the U.S.” For a moment I thought I was standing in front of an American Legion hall. Then I saw peace symbols hanging around the necks of some of the jingoistic T-shirts. There was a peace symbol T-shirt, but it lay folded on the floor of the display, almost hidden from view. It was surrounded by several peace-symbol patches and an array of buttons that read “God Bless America” and “Operation Desert Storm.” I felt like I’d walked into a Twilight Zone episode. I had found peace, but its meaning had been coopted.
Behind the glass counter display were dozens of peace-symbol necklaces, pins, and earrings. I noticed a design from my youth: the word “peace” spelled out in the shape of a dove. The salesman confirmed: yes, that’s a real one, probably here since the 60s. But it no longer interested me.
