A Bug Story

Cicadas are disgusting. That's why I left Chicago.

In 1973, my hometown was swarmed with locusts. If you didn't live there, you don't have any idea of what I'm talking about. I was a little girl so I admit my memory has acquired patina over the years but try to think in Biblical terms: Swarms. Of. Locusts. (Flee now!)

I don't know how to give you a sense of my my meaning. Try:

be alive with, be all over the place, be knee deep in, be no end to, be plentiful, be thick with, be up to one's ears in, crawl with, crowd, flourish, flow, have a full plate, infest, overflow, proliferate, swarm, swell, teem, thrive
(Thesaurus.com)

That'll give you an idea. They were everywhere. EVERYWHERE. They were loud and they could FLY! They shed their skins leaving locust-shaped shells behind them. Their eyes were freaking RED! I was traumatized! Thank goodness they only come around once every 17 years!

I knew in 1973 that I would not be living there in 1990. And I wasn't. I left in 1981 and, for the most part, have never been back. Good thing, because

In 1990, there were reports from people in Chicago having to use snow shovels to clear their sidewalks of the dead cicadas.
(Cicadas in Illinois, University of Illinois Extension )

Ew.

I'd be careful about visiting anytime during the Summer of 2024.