What it's like to be Normal
Normal, Illinois trip log
Hometown visits can be hard, especially when everyone you know has moved on. My family moved to a different state, and my high school best friends are scattered throughout the US. Occasionally, I find myself drifting back to my hometown.
I should paint a scene about my hometown. When Jude and I first got together, she told me the whole town was like “Mulberry Street” from a children’s book. It is neither big nor small, but somewhat idyllic, and quintessential of a Midwest college town.
The street I lived on was a block away from cornfields, and four blocks away from Uptown— oldheads remember Downtown and hate the weird change the town decided to do fifteen or some odd years ago, but whatever. I could ride my bike basically everywhere, even to church if I was dedicated enough— it was a few miles deep in a cornfield. Wind turbines blink their ominous red warning lights at nighttime, and there are so many stars in the sky you’d think it was somewhere else. Also, it was flat. Ver,y very flat, but that was kind of fun.
The town is largely the same, except for some stores or restaurants here and there that have closed. New businesses are sprouting up everywhere; there’s a Cane’s now, and too many dispensaries. It’s changed and stayed the same. That’s the curse and pleasure of towns, especially hometowns. Perhaps you want it to stay the same since you want it to be what you remember, but seeing it thrive is good too.
On the things that never change: Avanti’s— shitty, crappy italian food (if you can even call it that) but goddamn do they have the best sandwiches. I don’t know why, but for some reason Normal— my hometown, yes, it’s really called that— loves Gondolas. It is apparently famous in our area, two places make it La Gondola and Avanti’s. Now this sandwich sounds plan, maybe even mediocre, but god, it’s so good. It’s a sweet bread, not too sweet but sweet enough, with cold cut salami and ham, with cheese, lettuce, and tomato. Add a side of ranch, and you have a Midwest experience you probably won’t forget. I don’t know why it’s so good, but it is. I actually do know why: it’s the bread. That sweet, savory, luscious loaf— thinking about it makes my mouth water and my knees weak.
I’ve searched high and low for this sandwich everywhere, and nothing comes close. I once baked Avanti’s bread using my grandma’s recipe, and it was pretty close. I just didn’t get the ranch right. Also, it had to proof for half the day, so it is a labor.
If you’re in Central Illinois, try the mediocre sandwich; it will change your life.
We stayed in Uptown Normal— I still hate that it’s called Uptown, how pretentious. Did I spend too much on the hotel room? Yes, but Jude is worth the world to me, so I wanted to treat her to something special. We had a room near the top of the building and had lovely views of a parking deck across the street and part of Uptown.
Fun fact! At Illinois State University there’s a dorm called Waterson Towers. They are the tallest buildings in central Illinois, and on a clear day you can see Chicago (three hours away) because it’s so flat here.
Staying here meant that we could walk easily to the best coffeeshop in town and the best cafe in town, also ice cream, other food, etc, were all around us too. Since we were near the University, that meant we were near all the shitty college bars as well. As hard as I tried, Jude didn’t let us go to Lunker’s for their famous Fishbowl cocktails— yes, served in a fishbowl.
There are a few must-dos that Jude and I try to hit when we’re in Normal. Avanti’s is one of them; we always go. Next is Coffeehound— mostly because it’s the best shop in the city. There are new shops I’d love to try, but we mostly stick to our favorites.
In high school and college, I would get a blueberry rooibos tea latte with honey, and man, that sure was good. I was a big tea drinker in high school and college. I still drink tea, but not nearly as much. I also would pound a Mountain Dew at lunch every day at school, so change can be good.
I’ve noticed I’m reminiscing a lot. Perhaps that’s the best way to go home, or the worst way. I found myself sad and pleased at being back home. Sad because my friends and family weren’t there, and happy that things were the same. I still know those country roads like the back of my hand. What delightful times Daphne, my best friend, and I had on those crusty roads. Mostly star gazing and gossiping a lot, with a Diet Coke and McDonald’s fries in hand.
Near my aunt’s old house, there’s a graveyard. My cousin, sister, and I would play hide and seek in there. God, it was scary then, and it’s scary now. The gravel drive leading to the cemetery gates was my favorite place to sit at. It was on a hill overlooking I-55, and it was far enough out of the country so the stars shone brightly. One night, Jude and I, with Diet Cokes of course, drove out there and sat. We talked about some hard stuff, and I told her memories I had.
I remember going out there, watching the cars travel by, and talking about the hard stuff. In high school, life is “the hard stuff,” and that funk ruins what could have been a perfectly delightful time. Hardness is just part of the territory for growing up.
In Normal, there’s not much to do other than eat and go shopping. So we went shopping. Specifically, we went to Von Maur. If you’ve never been, or never heard of it for that matter, I pity you. It’s a relic of bygone department stores— somehow still thriving. It’s just a fancy department store, like Dillard’s or Macy’s, but somehow it’s captured my heart. I think it’s due to how often my mom would drag me here. I miss her, so I miss that time we spent together. Target, Von Maur, and Panda Express— a lovely afternoon we’d spend together. I miss it. I miss her.
Normal, and Bloomington, or Blono, or the Twin Cities, has a lot to offer. It has a lot of restaurants, shops, good schools, and safe neighborhoods. It was one of the best places to grow up in. Luckily, it’s still growing. It’s not stagnant or filtering down and out. It’s improving, and bringing in more people and business. I hope it continues thriving, I hope it doesn’t die out. I want us to make our pilgrimage there like we have for years at this point. Nice, soothing, lovely, easy-living.
I miss it, and I’m happy I don’t live there. I think that divide is oftentimes how people feel about their hometowns. Or they just hate it to hell, or they never left. I’m glad I left, and I’m glad whenever I visit. I’m circling over and over the same idea, trying to figure out how to end this.
If you ever see a Gondola sandwich, try it. If you ever see Destihl beer, have a sip. If you ever see a State Farm commercial, know it’s from my little city. And if you ever want to have the best corn in the country, go during Corn Fest.
Thanks for reading! Like always, I enjoyed writing it.
I hope you stay around to see our next few adventures coming up (hello Orlando again, it’s been too long). Follow us on Instagram bloomandjudereview if you want more frequent updates, or if you’re nosy.
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See you real soon!
Bloom and Jude.