Gary, this reminds me of a somewhat surreal experience I had earlier this week involving a driver for Berger Bros.
I was filling up my car at the gas station on the corner of North and Ashland when a perfectly groomed Cairn Terrier zipped by faster than I have ever seen a dog move outside of a pari-mutuel. Pulling his leash, the little pup zigzagged through traffic on Ashland, sending cars veering and screeching. Little Toto turned on a dime onto North and disappeared.
Just then, a fellow stepped out of his big charcoal delivery truck and said, to no one in particular, that he had bred and trained Cairn Terriers for many years, and could tell that this particular dog had been tortured and falsely imprisoned in contravention of the Immutable Laws of Nature. (I thought the dog looked particularly well cared-for, though poorly trained. But what do I know. Maybe it was the bow in his fur.)
Anyway, I asked the driver if he delivers to any of the famous South and West Side ribs and links spots so well known here. Yes. I asked about his favorites, hopefully. The driver's response was that we are all living in an Earthly hell; as we await Rapture, we should struggle to find the Good in all things. Focussing on that which is Good among BBQ places, the Berger charcoal man said that they're all about the same.