11 MILES / 11 PHOTOS – people and things that caught my eye while trekking through Chicago one sunny morning.
We’re bombarded with them constantly as we grow numb to their presence. Advertisements are to commerce what water is to tree roots, an absolute necessity, especially in cities.
Just four words that caught my eye as people on a busy work day continued on their way to other destinations. “Heaven on a Bun” — a burger chain’s enticement, perhaps in response to another competitor who offers “Happy Meals.”
As far as I know, no one has ever sued the Five Guys chain for making a claim it can’t back up. “Your honor, I had one with the works, and I swear I ain’t stupid, but I didn’t see anything of heaven in that burger.”
Back to reality. They’re just words, a promise, albeit an empty one, that nobody takes literally or seriously. Clever ways to make a claim that a restaurant hopes will get our attention, get us inside, and get us to the counter. Were it not for the fact that it was 9:10 a.m., I would have taken the bait . . . I mean, the beef.
Some promises were never meant to be a promise. We told Native Americans: “Don’t think of this crap piece of land as a reservation; it’s heaven on a bun.” Energy companies drilling for cheap natural gas deep in the rocks beneath our feet tell us: “Don’t think of ‘fracking’ as potentially harmful to a community’s water supply; it’s heaven on a bun.” Cash-strapped cities desperate for new revenue make the pitch: “Forget the inevitable downside of more casinos; it’s heaven on a bun.” Remember the days, not all that long ago, of no-documentation mortgages when you didn’t have to prove your income? Yep, heaven on a bun. If only it was just about burgers.