Mayfest at Lincoln Square

It was crazy crowded. They had all the revelers blocked off into the space of about one and a half city blocks. It took a half hour just to get a beer.

But the beer, a special Maiboch, was good, as were the brautwurst. And the polka bands were fun. And, thanks to the crowd, I got to see a lot of interesting tattoos.

Stuck a feather in his cap and called...weinerschnitzel?

Leiderhosen in der beirgarten.

A polka band that played "La Bamba".

I had flashbacks of the carnival that invaded Colby & Lisa's neighborhood when I visited in September. "Chihuaua!"

Second City, Second Chances?

I had my first class at Second City today, and it was really, really good. I was a little concerned that it might be pretty remedial, but for me it was just right. We played a lot of basic listening and concentration games, but also got straight into some scene work. The instructor was able to balance a combination of kindly encouragement and honest feedback, and my classmates are very friendly and open. And young. Very, very young.

There was a young man from Edwardsville who is getting ready to move up to Chicago in the next few weeks. Until then, he bought a train pass and is making the trip up every Saturday just for the class. There are a few others who are in town just for the summer, to get their training. That was so weird to me for some reason. Maybe because for me this class is just some addendum to the rest of my life.

Needless to say, my pluck from obscurity did not happen the first day. You all are still stuck with me for now.

The weather here is gorgeous--mid 70's with sunny, clear skies. I think the Cubs are in town for a series, and it could hardly be better for a weekend at Wrigley. I'm headed home to tend to Atlas for a bit, then meeting a friend in Lincoln Square for their German-themed Mayfest tonight.

Avenue Lewd

While the question still stands as to whether I'll be able to DO more theater in Chicago, I've certainly SEEN more in these first few weeks than I did in most years in St. Louis.

The streak continued last night. A friend ended up with a last minute ticket to Avenue Q last night, at the Cadillac Palace Theater downtown. The Palace is one of the grand old houses of Chicago, with marble and guilding everywhere, and stacks of balconies that rise up through the space. It is also rather modest in size, however, and the seats only extend about 20ish rows back, so it has a nice intimate feel. Our seats were on the floor, about 10 rows back, so we had great views of all the action.

And what interesting action there was. If you are unfamiliar with the show, Avenue Q was the great Broadway phenom of 2003. Originally developed off-Broadway, it was the brainchild of several veterans of both Sesame Street and the Jim Henson Company.

It is safe to say that Avenue Q is several neighborhoods over from Sesame Street. Although it plays fast and loose with some of the conventions of that show (animated segments, teachable-moment singalongs, and most crucially, puppets as main characters), it uses them to explore the challenges of young adulthood in a contemporary urban landscape. This is decidely NOT a kid's show. Its also not a show for all adults, either. Along the way of exploring the idea of Purpose (capital intended), the protagonists make many detours and digressions, involving a variety of adult avocations and compromising positions (yep, with puppets).

It is filled with salty language and morally questionable decisions, but it also has a lot of thought and heart behind it. It is probably one of the clearest depictions of twentysomethinghood that I've seen in any medium (one of my favorite songs was called "I Wish I Could Go Back To College") and has one of the most concise, emotionally-true depections of the pain of romantic breakup ("There's A Fine, Fine Line"). It also has former child star Gary Coleman as a main character, played by an African American woman who belts out a tune about the German concept of deriving personal amusement out of others' misfortune ("Scadenfreude"). It all makes sense in context, and ends on a bittersweet, honest note.

I liked it quite a bit. One of its most appealing aspects for me is that it downplays its own virtuoso. Most of the performers play multiple characters, and they do some sophisticated puppetry while belting out songs like Broadway pros. But, for all the gloss and glitter, it still felt like something you might have made up while horsing around with friends on your best night.

If you were this smart, and fearless.

Donut Hole in My Wallet

I have a new mistress, and her name is Dunkin Donuts.

I knew even from my first few visits before moving up here that this would be trouble.

Dunkin Donuts are at least as common as Starbucks up here, maybe even McDonalds. Every neighborhood has several, including Albany Park, where I live, and Schaumburg, where I work.

And they have wicked good coffee. Arguably better than Starbucks. Full line of espresso beverages.

And they're fast. Really fast, as in through the drive-thru in under 5 minutes.

And they have lots of non-donut stuff on their menu, like the whole wheat bagel and nonfat cream cheese I had this morning, which they toasted and schmeared for me. In under 5 minutes. With my iced coffee.

And most of them are also joined to Baskin Robbins. Which sells the most ridiculous ice cream. Which I haven't bought. Yet. But I do like looking at the pictures when I'm ordering my coffee with one Splenda and skim milk.

And the donuts aren't bad either.

Inside the Davis Theater.

The old-fashioned marquee at the Davis.

Neighborhood Field Trip: Lincoln Square

Not to be confused with swanky Lincoln Park to the southeast, Lincoln Square is a cushy 15-minute walk and bus ride from home, and I'm banking on it to fulfill my Entitled White Boy Yuppie need to have espresso, sushi, cinema, and a good microbrew within as tight a radius as possible.

Lincoln Square fulfills that requirement in spades. Less overtly "hip" (and a good deal smaller than) Wicker Park, Lincoln Square is an old German immigrant neighborhood that has, in recent years, blossomed as young families have moved in to the local area, and brought their disposable income and wide palates and appetites with them. It basically consists of about a half mile stretch of Lincoln Avenue, one of the few Chicago streets than run at a diagonal to the otherwise predictable grid.

Along that diagonal is a great assortment of world cuisines--Greek, Italian, French, Thai, Japanese, and, in a nod to the roots of the area, a traditional beerhaus. I counted no fewer than four coffeeshops, and at least as many pubs. There were giftshops, a used bookstore, an old fashioned apothecary that makes its own line of cosmetics, and a wide variety of specialty shops. The whole stretch ends with a massive branch of the Chicago Public Library and a great city park with fountains and ballfields.

I met my friend, Jenn, for a pilsner and ogling of the bakery case at the Cafe Selmarie. We sat on the patio and caught up on current events before hitting the streets. Jenn has lived in the area for a little while, and was a great source of tips on who had the best salads, brunch, and funky gift items. I did a little birthday shopping for my nephew, and we did some people watching.

The highlight of the afternoon was a trip to the Davis Theater for a matinee of the new Indiana Jones movie. The movie was surprisingly bad (Really. Bad acting. Bad dialogue. Boring story. Cheesy effects. Just plain bad.), but the movie house was awesomely old school. Cash only, two Cokes and a popcorn for under $10, with carpet and seats from sometime in the 70's. It reminded me a bit of the old Petite 3 Cinema in Kirksville. And they show first-run popcorn flicks. I know where I'll be spending my summer movie season.

"Folk music?" you say, barely concealing your disdain. It is apparently one of the best concert venues in the city, and in June, I'm planning on going to see a Eastern Euro neo-cabaret act. Maybe.

Little league practice in the middle of the city. Same cheering moms, same overzealous dads.

Good to have nearby, as I toss around the possibility of running the marathon in the fall. Should I do it?

A storefront specializing in nothing but vintage stadium seats. Bringing relief to housewives around Chicago with no idea what to get their husbands for Christmas.

An old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness record shop.

Baypooch

Atlas has been constantly underfoot and begging for some playtime, so I decided it was time to hit the beach.

About a 10 minute drive exactly due east from the apartment is the only free run dog park on the lakefront. There was plenty of parking and, considering the holiday, fairly light crowds. Atlas did great, running up to strangers (man and pooch alike), sniffing and being sniffed, and generally just having a good time.

The only caveat appeared to be that most of the dogs were a little too well-behaved. Atlas was angling for a scrap, and no one was taking the bait. He got a few good sprints in, up and down the length of the beach, and I was happy he had a chance to stretch his legs.

After a brief watering, we walked more of the park, which was beautiful. It was warm and breezy today, and you could smell the charcoal grills firing up around us. There were the sounds of volleyball games, families chattering, and music from radios. Every so often you could catch the smell of lilac, which seems to fill the city.

Little guy is tuckered out after his fun on the beach.

What Really Matters

I made another deliciously dangerous discovery: a GREAT Chinese place in my neighborhood that delivers! I had spotted them in the shopping plaza of my nearest supermarket and decided today, while dropping off some movie rentals, to give them a try. Holy cow is this good stuff! Probably the best egg drop soup I've had in years, a shrimp dish loaded with the little guys, and a totally interesting (and tasty) variation on crab rangoon I've never encountered before. Who needs Chinatown?

I've set aside this weekend to just relax and be a bit of a homebody, a welcome remedy to the hustle of the last few weeks. It's been nice so far.

There have been a couple of other good discoveries over the past few days. Yesterday, I took Atlas to a local vet's office to update his vaccines and get some exams completed in order to get his pet license and permit for the free play dog parks here in the city. Several hundred (!) dollars later, I found out that the office I had randomly chosen for its proximity is consistently recognized as one of the best in the city by various local publications. And they WERE nice and very professional. Just pricey.

Last night, I hosted my first dinner for friends at the new place and, yes, it is as glorious to cook in the kitchen as I thought. The best? The dishwasher. As I dirtied a dish, I popped it into the washer, and ran the whole thing at the end of the night. Glorious!

On Friday, I took an alternate route home from work, avoiding the tollway completely. While it took considerably longer than the 32 minutes estimated on Traffic.com, the best part was discovering that it should be an entirely scooter-friendly route to and from the office. Traffic moved the whole time, and the speed limit never reached above 45 mph. Now I just have get the bike up here, and get my IL license squared away.

I have a little more lazing about to do in order to make the weekend just right...

Housekeeping

Thanks to all who have posted. Its great to hear from you! Keep 'em coming, and don't hesitate to ask questions, I'll do my best to answer ASAP.

Side note 2: did you know that snakes are prone to kidney failure? Also, you can buy little freeze dried mice in pink packages at the pet store. Who knew? I'll have to see if I can Google up a recipe that uses them.

To the Petco

It was time. I have been here nearly a week, and had successfully managed to avoid running any errands by car during the weeknights. This has been due largely to the selfish desire to not give up any primo parking spot I may have found on the street after work.

Honestly, I was also uncertain about navigating the traffic of the city streets. But, seeing as how I cut off a Chicago city patrol car this morning (oops!) and emerged unscathed, I was a little enboldened.

I had other motives, too. Atlas has consumed roughly half the polyester filling of his dog bed, and I was tired of picking up clumps of it from not only the floors, but also the, um, lesser end of my beloved pooch.

Plus, I needed to pick up a few supplies to finish getting the aquarium back up and running.

So we loaded up and hit the streets. Everything went well, in spite of a few missed turns. The only real problem I had involved some of the larger intersections, when as many three large boulevards come together in these massive spaces with taxicabs jumping into the middle of the fray, pedestrians eyeing you warily, and everyone inching, anxiously, to make their turn or veer off in a new direction. I don't know what I was so worried about. If I can drive a stick shift in Parisan rush hour, I can handle north Chicago.

It was cool to see some of the neighborhoods along the way, at least one of which I hope I get to visit over the holiday weekend.

Side note: I only lost one fish in the move, and none since the first of the month. This is all the more remarkable given that they went from a 10 gallon tank to a 3 gallon red bucket AND they didn't get fed at all my entire last week in Missouri, because I had accidentally packed the fish food with the stuff we dropped off at the new place on the first. Seriously, if the ASPCA has a watchdog for aquatic abuse, they should be all over my butt.

Lavish Charity

A good college friend had invited me to join him at a fundraiser for a local community health center, held downtown last night at the contemporary art museum.

It was a nice event, more casual than what I had anticipated, but certainly with a degree of elegance lent to it from the grand setting.

And the food. It was a food and wine event, and several dozen restaurants from around the city were invited to share appetizer-sized (amuse bouche, as the foodies would say) portions of their specialties, along with a wine pairing. Among others, I sampled Kobe beef made-to-order sliders, potato leek soup shooters, and chocolate cupcakes topped with real gold leaf.

It was an exciting night, tempered only by my after-work blahs and continued battles with seasonal allergies. As casual as the event was, I still felt a little outclassed in my consignment-shop Perry Ellis pants and Macy's house brand shirt. At one point I overheard on young job seeker talking about how he had hired a branding agency to help him develop himself as a brand, complete with his own logo, mission statement, catch phrase, and color scheme! It was a way of thinking that was fairly alien to me, but interesting nonetheless.

This was an installation piece at the musuem. Or the sign for a stripper lounge/tic-tac-toe parlor. You be the judge.

Neighborhood Field Trip: Wicker Park

I had two goals today. The first was to establish a local bank account. Did you know you can do that entirely by the internet these days? Blew my mind.

The second was to take a trip to a different neighborhood using nothing but public transportation, including a bus.

When I visited Chicago in January, I fell completely bonkers for the area known as Wicker Park. Since I got a bit later start than I had planned today (retrieving pugs from fire escapes and all), I decided I would tackle the 6 mile distance to Wicker Park as my first foray.

Wicker Park, and its sister neighborhood, Bucktown, are located just northwest of downtown, on the west side of the expressway, a bit removed from lakeshore. I traveled there by the Blue Line on the El, after hopping the bus just a few blocks from my apartment (you can read more about that below).

It is a relentlessly energetic neighborhood whose commerical district, at and around the confluence of three major roads, is filled with a dazzling combination of high end fashion boutiques and vintage clothing stores, coffeeshops, sidewalk cafes, used bookstores, tattoo parlors, pubs, lounges, pizzarias, pastry shops, and a little bit of everything in between. (It's sort of like the Loop in St. Louis, on steroids). Wondering off into the side streets finds you on quiet, tree-lined sidewalks with brownstone townhouses and smart, new-construction condo buildings.

What makes Wicker Park the most exciting for me, however, are the people. Young and beautiful, they fill the streets looking, well, young and beautiful. It's a funny cross section of 20 and 30-somethings in skinny jeans and hoodies trying hard to look ultra hip and edgy, without actually looking like they're trying to do so, and uber-preppy young professionals: frosted women with perfect pedicures and toy poodles peeping out of designer handbags and buffed, tweezed, and Italian-jeaned men paying more attention to their iPhones than the blondes on their arms.

I'm exaggerating, for sure, but I do love the maddening crush of it all. Snippets of conversation: people laughing, lovers arguing, singles bemoaning. Interesting food, handsome clothes, fresh music. The clatter of glasses, the smell of tobacco, the clanking of the passing El in the background: it's everything good about urban living.

I met my friend Emily at a coffeeshop across the street from the Marc Jacobs store (where I talked myself down from the ledge of $11 flip-flops). We scored a table on the back patio and caught up, while sharing a ridiculously large chocolate chunk, nugat, raisin, oatmeal, and possibly kitchen sink cookie. She had some work to finish up, so I wandered the streets a bit, braving a few high-end shops just to ogle the merchandise, and finally ducking into a resale shop where I scored some sweet second-hand jeans and a funky t-shirt. I walked around a bit more, found young families picnicking in the actual park known as Wicker Park, admired the combination of old and new buildings, and trying to figure out where I fit into the mix.

I took the Blue Line the rest of the way into downtown, connecting with Brown Line back home, and stopping along the way for my inaugural visit to Trader Joes (!) and carry out tacos at Jimmy's Mexican & American Food at the end of my block (fresh!).

It was a great day, tempered a little by my frustration that I'm away from the people I love the most, with whom I would love to share all this. Give me call, come visit; there are a lot of great neighborhoods left to explore!

The bus was nice; bright and fairly clean, there was a digital sign that would flash the name of the next stop, and an automated voice would announce them as they got close. The only caveat was that it took FOREVER. It took at least 20 minutes for the bus to arrive alone, and by the time I transferred to the Blue Line, the trip of about 6 miles distance took me about 50 minutes. This city can eat money AND time.

He's kind of tough to see, but in the upper right corner you can make out his little head poking over the lower rail.

Mt Atlas

Stories and updates about the pooch seem pretty popular. So here's the latest:

The back door to the apartment opens up to a gated cobblestone courtyard. All of the apartment fire escapes exit onto it. Since it's secure, and I can see out pretty easily, I'll sometimes leave the door open and allow him free reign to come and go.

Atlas being who he is, however, complications soon follow.

Being endlessly curious, any open stairway is an invitation to climb. So, if I don't watch him carefully, he'll make his way as high as he can go.

Being somewhat, um...dim, and stubborn, he gets confused and can't find his way down. The more I call to him, the more he looks around, sees another stairway, thinks it might be the one to lead him home, and up he goes, even higher.

If it weren't so maddening, it might be cute. Or vice versa.

Here he is on the second floor fire escape. I think it must remind him of the old apartment in St Louis.

At the top you can see him on the third floor (for some reason, the posts published out of order).

Around My Head in 90 Minutes

An old acquaintance from my Truman theater days offered me a ticket tonight to a production of Around the World in 80 Days produced by the Lookingglass Theatre Company. David Schwimmer, who played Ross on Friends, is one of the founding members of Lookingglass, although he had nothing to do with the show tonight.

Lookingglass performs in a beautiful space in Watertower Place, right on Michigan Avenue in downtown. I feel lucky to have seen two professional shows my first week. The show was good, maybe a little inconsistent in some areas, and there was definitely a lack of hot air balloons. But there was this beautiful moment in Act 2, when the actors where singing together on a swinging sledge, with snow effects and beautiful lighting, that managed to capture all that can be great about live theater.

The other nice thing about taking the El is the chance to see more of the city. Waiting for my train to come, I looked up to see this great view of the Sears Tower. Wish the picture had turned out better.

A street level stop on the Brown line.

Trainblogging

In Chicago, the subway rides above the ground, in most places, on elevated tracks, hence its nickname "the El".

My nearest connection is a few blocks walk from home and is at the end of its line, the Brown Line. This section of the El is actually at street level, meaning cars have to stop when we cross their street.

One of the nice things about being at the end of the line is that the trains are always nearly empty, with a lot of seats to choose from.

The El is one of my favorite places to update this blog. As I head to my destination, I can relax, collect my thoughts, and tap away on the tiny keypad on my phone.

When I have been able to travel, I have always enjoyed using subways and such. St. Louis has a great light rail train system in the Metrolink, but it unfortunately covers a fairly limited area. Between the El and the city's bus system (which I hope to learn this summer). I can get most anywhere in the city.

Home SWEET Home

I had heard the familiar sounds of an ice cream truck in the streets of my neighborhood the first few evenings and hadn't really thought much about it. Then yesterday, while on my walk with Atlas, I saw a mother and daughter walking down the Street with their hands full of delicious waffle cones filled with ice cream. Knowing we were several blocks from the nearest commercial area, I was a little confused.

Turning the corner, I made an awesome discovery: parked in front of my own building was the above ice cream truck. Notice that, instaed of the standard ice cream novelties, this bad boy comes equipped with its own soft serve machine! It's like a Dairy Queen on wheels! Coming to my house five nights a week!

Street vendor carts like these are everywhere, about two or three per block, and the sell everything from ice cream novelties to fresh fruit and pork rinds.

The Other Shoe

No beating around the bush. The first day at the new office was overwhelming. Their workflows are not nearly so defined as that to which I am accustomed, and so it seemed like they (and soon I) do the work of what in St. Louis was divided among (no kidding) four different people. Craziness!

Plus, the drive home was just plain poopy. Smooth sailing for the first 10+ miles, then an inexplicable and entirely unmoveable parking lot.

But let's focus on positives: everyone was very friendly. No one was unnecessarily noisy or annoying. The creature comforts were more bountiful than i thought (fountain Cokes! Espresso bar! Water cup!) And, on reflection, I recall feeling similarly overwhelmed when starting at the old office, and I adjusted well there.

Getting on the tollway this morning. A veritable speedway compared to the drive home. Harumph.

That bit of blue and yellow in the back left is IKEA. This picture was taken from my nearest office window. I asked a coworker if he thought employees in our building owned more Swedish furniture on average than most people. He didn't get the joke.

Meet My Hidden Roommate

Day Two was comparatively low key. It was cold, rainy, and blustery, and most of my energy was spent putting things away, filling the fridge, etc.

The only real excitement came later in the evening, when a combination of flour tortilla, new-to-me toaster oven, and distractingly confusing digital cable guide resulted in plumes of smoke swirling through the air. The good news is that the smoke detector works, and, more importantly, SHE TALKS! That's right, after the standard beeps, a lovely-but-urgent lady voice began proclaiming "there is a fire!"

Things were quickly brought under control (hooray for ceiling fans and cross circulation), but it was worth it to discover my hidden friend. She may not pay rent, but she's already earned her keep. I'm taking recommendations for naming her.

First Night: indulge/inspire

I splurged for my first night in town, and bought the last ticket available for tonight's performance of "Dead Man's Cell Phone" by Sarah Ruhl at the Steppenwolf Theater.

More than just a playhouse, the Steppenwolf also has its own company of (Pulitzer-, Tony-, and Oscar-award winning) actors, platwrights, and directors, among whom John Malkovitch, Gary Sinese, and Joan Allen are founding and current members. None of them were in tonight's show, but I WAS audience to a smart, funny, whimsical, and gingerly philosophical show, with a bit of stage magic, great performers, and a version of the afterlife where shoes are verboten.

It was good solid contemporary theater, everything I'm hoping to engage here. Good stuff.

P.S. The theater in which I saw this good show also happened to house the premiere of "Picasso at the Lapin Agile". Awesome.

A shot of the stage, taken at intermission.

The neighborhood

My local grocer, two blocks away.

The El stop.

One block over, good for homesick days.

The north branch of the Chicago River, literally right around the corner, and considerably different than downtown.