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2010-11-05T05:59:00.001-07:00

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Dismantled Christmas

2009-01-10T09:15:00.001-08:00

Powder

2009-01-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

Awoke this morning to another 6 inches of snow. It's still coming down. By my count this is at least the 8th snowfall since Thanksgiving. I've never seen anything quite like it. The weather reporters here have been off base all week: a "major storm" on Tuesday yielded only an inch, whereas last night's "few inches" brought considerably more.

I've always loved the snow, but even this is testing my patience. It does create a remarkable inconvenience, and people just seem edgier.

Which is a shame, because one of the things I like best about the snow is the potential to bring a quiet peacefulness.

About snow, the naturalist Joseph Wood Krutch has said:

"There is no other time when the whole world seems composed of one thing and one thing only."

The pup let me sleep in until sunrise this morning, but still required a walk. So we headed out into the snow. It was quiet still. Only a very few others had yet rallied themselves to begin the task of excavating the sidewalks and the cars parked on the street. The quiet chaos of city life had momentarily been suspended. The neighborhood was bright and the air fresh. Atlas turned primal, sniffing out marking spots, even under the frosty blanket. For 15 minutes I didn't think about my job, or what I was or wasn't doing enough in my acting pursuits, who I was missing or what shopping needed to be done. Just me, the dog, the snow, the neighborhood.

When we got back home, I opened up all the blinds, then made bacon and pancakes from scratch.

Super Broker Shuffle

2009-01-09T17:47:00.001-08:00

Thanks to Becky for bringing this to my attention. Be sure to stick around for at least the first two rounds of individual raps.

The sheer dedication it took to pull this off is amazing. I will buy ALL of these products.

Cupboard Maintenance

2009-01-07T20:15:00.000-08:00

A little over a year ago, I found an article in Real Simple magazine that listed 10-12 items to have on hand for each food storage area in the kitchen (fridge, freezer, pantry), and while I no longer follow it to a "T", it's still something of a reference point for me when I go shopping--and the reason why I'll always, ALWAYS have a little bacon on hand.

The Times posted a similar article today, all about what to pitch and and what to keep in your pantry. Where Bittman's real strength comes is in the little off-handed recipes he suggests for each recommended substitution. He motivated me to try cooking with white beans tonight (beans, diced onion, garlic, mushrooms, said bacon, chopped basil, olive oil, canned tomato sauce, s&p to taste), which is something I rarely ever do. He also threw out an idea for pasta with a walnut sauce that totally caught my interest. Maybe this weekend?

Give it a glance over and see if you have any inspiration.

The Minimalist - The Latest Must-Haves for the Pantry - NYTimes.com

How Smart Is This Guy?

2009-01-07T19:57:00.000-08:00

Reportedly, today's photo op of the living Presidents with the President-elect was all Obama's idea, pitched when he visited Bush at the White House in December.

What do you do when one of the strongest arguments against your appointment (and one with more validity than I'd care to admit) is your lack of experience? You give the world a visual reference point for the word "President" and position yourself in the middle of it. Clever. Scary. We're either going to be walking streets of gold dubloons by the time this guy's done or toiling under the regime of the United States of Obamanation.

Presidents Past, Present and Future - The Caucus Blog - NYTimes.com

Banner Day

2009-01-05T20:45:00.001-08:00

I made three new friends on Facebook today. I'm da bomb, as they say in the French.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled lives, already in progress.

(We must learn to celebrate the little things.)

Pop'd Art: Lily Allen's "The Fear"

2009-01-03T17:01:00.001-08:00

When the young British neo-soul artists started crossing the pond a few years back, I quickly aligned myself behind Amy Winehouse rather than Lily Allen, partially because I liked Winehouse's sound better, but also because I thought Allen's songs were a little weak.

It appears Lily Allen is about to release a new album, and this is the first single. It skews more to straight-up pop than soul, but the lyrics are witty and sarcastic, a relentless satire of modern values. Listen to the verses (it's amazing she can sing with tongue planted so firmly in cheek) and then the chorus, and try to tell me there's not a smart girl behind this song.

Plus, it doesn't hurt that it's something you can shake your booty to.

Foodie Report

2009-01-01T08:29:00.000-08:00

A pretty cool little article about food trends, with a tasty tie-in to the President-elect. Enjoy.
How Caramel Developed a Taste for Salt - NYTimes.com
By KIM SEVERSON

In 2008, salt caramel became one of those rare flavors that works its way from an elite culinary obsession to the American mass market.

Worst Best Man at a Wedding EVER.

2009-01-01T08:10:00.001-08:00

I have no idea if this is legit or not, but the thought that it could be cracks me up.

One Year Ago Today

2009-01-01T07:36:00.000-08:00

I was 25 pounds heavier. I never ate things like protein powder or soy milk. I couldn't finish a half mile on the treadmill. Yesterday I ran a 7:30 mile.

I lived in St. Louis, with a view of Highway 40 and the Zoo. Today I live in Chicago with a view of the Chicago River. I paid literally half the amount of rent.

I met my pup for the first time, never awoke before 6:30, and had no idea little dogs could provide massive enjoyment.

I wasn't on Facebook, and lived in ignorance of how many people had kids, were still in my hometown, or had moved away to interesting places.

I was doing community theater in Clayton, not walking the halls of Second City in the footsteps of Belushi, Farley, Fey, Poehler, and so many others.

I had never voted for a Democrat in the presidential election.

I had about the same amount of money in my bank accounts, but more debt, and WAY more in my 401k.

I never rode public transportation.

I welcomed in the New Year with my closest friends in a single-family home in Maplewood. I passed last night on the 7th floor of a West Loop high-rise with virtual strangers (who were nonetheless awesomely friendly).

I was still single, and just about as okay with it.

I wore different shoes, walked on different rugs, and sat on a different couch. I ate off the same dishes, drove the same car, and listened to the same iPod.

I had never been the victim of a natural disaster, and had certainly never received assistance from FEMA.

IKEA was still exotic, not the building on the other side of the parking lot at work.

I had never fired a handgun.

I had never had a Bloody Mary. Mmmmm....Bloody Mary. Weekend cannot come soon enough.

I had dinner with my extended family once a week, but we said less than we do in our weekly phone calls now.

I attended church about as often as I do now, which is to say not as much as I should. Especially for a guy with a seminary degree.

The hair. I'm not even going to open that can of worms.

I was complacent, bored, and restless. Today I am terrified, thankful, and eager. I'm not entirely sure I am in a better place than I was a year ago. I miss my family and friends, and have NO IDEA where my career path is headed right now. But I'm glad I took some chances, I feel like I've grown up some, and have certainly enjoyed a lot about Chicago. Especially in the summer. Sidewalk cafes. The dog beach. People watching in Wicker Park. Scooter! Decided lack of weekly snowfalls, sub-zero wind chills, and nightmare street parking. Forget New Year's resolutions...I just need to make it to May.

Post-Holiday Post

2008-12-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

Just rolled back in from StL, and am happy to report that the visit was a good one, and more relaxing than I could ever have anticipated. This is in spite of 10-person three state caravan with extended family right in the middle. But everyone got along well, we enjoyed our time with said family in Indiana, and, to my pure joy, we even went, en masse, to a movie on Christmas Day. "Marley and Me". Tears. Laughs. Pooches. Good times.

Below are some pics. Most from our visit to my grandfather's farm. A few subjecting my beloved pooch to abject humiliation.

I've been thinking a lot about the New Year. I'm not one normally to set resolutions, although it was about this time last year that I got serious about the Chicago move, and here we are a year and about 300 miles later. Before the holiday, I met Redd and Double B for dinner, and we got to the topic of the New Year. Redd isn't so much into resolutions as she is "themes", for example "Take More Chances", which has thus far been my mantra for this move. It has me thinking, praying even about what next year's theme might be. I'm open to input.

I hope the holidays were peaceful and refreshing to you as well. May the new year bring you generous blessings.

NYTimes.com: In Illinois, a Virtual Expectation of Corruption

2008-12-14T19:14:00.001-08:00

I had been looking for something appropriate to post about the whole Blagojevich scandal as it has broken this week.

The most entertaining thing for me is just how relieved most people are to have an excuse to get rid of the guy. I've not heard a sympathetic word in his favor. It turns out that a friend from Second City went to school with the now Mrs. B, and says that the Patty Blagojevich from the transcripts is not too far removed from the teenage version. Some generally nasty pieces of work.

Anyway, below is a link to an article in today's New York Times, which provides a great context for the history and extent of corruption in Illinois politics.

---------------------

December 14, 2008

In Illinois, a Virtual Expectation of Corruption By KATE ZERNIKE

Residents of Illinois have had a tradition of accepting corruption among their politicians, even expecting it

Back At It

2008-12-07T07:14:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry that I lost momentum on this blog through the fall. Normally my favorite season, this one was a little rough, with the flood, then some job issues and some other personal stuff. Nothing major, but my mood bottomed out nonetheless and lost the oomph! to do anything above and beyond getting through each day.

Things are little more settled now and I'm feeling better, hence the flurry of updates. They go back to Halloween, so that's worth something, right?

To make up, here's a picture of Jessica Simpson, pop singer and reality TV star. Turns out she has a new perfume (because we all want to smell like desperation?), and was in town doing a personal appearance to promote it. She got more squeals than Santa. No kidding.

Signs of Christmas in Chicago

2008-12-07T06:33:00.000-08:00

My Christmas tree. Still digging the white. Looks awesome during the day. This is my only Christmas decoration this year, which is odd for me. After all the craziness of the fall, I wanted as little drama as possible, including that I create for myself. Note that all of my favorite ornaments survived the flood, while my tree skirt was among the losses.

Santa's house at the Christmasmarkt in Daley Plaza downtown. Note the massive tree behind, and, to the left of the left turret on the house, you can see the Picasso sculpture.

The Christmasmarkt was pretty great. It's done in collaboration with the Germany board of tourism, and most of the booths are manned by actual Germans who fly over for the holidays (waaa?). They sell traditional handicrafts and foodstuffs, including roasted chestnuts, bratwursts, and grogg (spiced wine) in commemorative mugs.

One of the main halls at the 8-floor Macy's, formerly Marshall Field's, downtown. Crowded, yes, but the epitome of the Christmas department store experience. If you dig such things, it's worth it for the trip at least once.

For many Chicagoians, it isn't Christmas until you've had lunch under the massive Christmas tree in the Walnut Room of Macy's/Marshall's on the 7th floor. There was a 3-hour wait when I went (and no, I didn't get a table, opting instead for a quick coffee from the nearby food court). I took the elevator up, then the escalators back down, which is when I ran across Jessica Simpson.

Christmas tree lot near Second City, underneath the new seasonal Coca-Cola ads. Christmas! Improv! Coke! Merry Christmas to me!

First Snow!

2008-12-07T06:22:00.000-08:00

My first snowfall in Chicago arrived in mid-November, while I was making my way home from a movie ('Slumdog Millionaire'-check it out). It only lasted about two hours, and quickly melted away. We've subsequently had our second and third snowstorms, one of which I drove through on my way home from Thanksgiving.

Poochkin

2008-12-07T06:13:00.000-08:00

Between the riot walk, a late start to the evening, and a shared bottle of wine, I was left with a pair of uncarved pumpkins from Halloween. These became a point of fascination for Atlas, who especially enjoyed chewing on the rough stems. I would be watching TV and hear him sneaking over, where he would mount them and gnaw away for a few seconds before jumping off and running away. For months I have been feeding him a spoonful of canned pumpkin with his food each day (for digestive assistance), so maybe he thought he'd hit some sort of smorgasbord.

Halloweeners

2008-12-07T05:47:00.000-08:00

It's not much of an overstatement to say that Chicagoians go crazy over Halloween, unlike anything I've ever seen. Almost every building on my block sported some sort of decoration, and many had very extensive yard displays with sound effects, etc. Even downtown, there were two full weekends of Chicagoween celebration, officially sanctioned by the city with performers and food stalls.

I marked the holiday by surviving a riot. Literally. A friend had come over to split a bottle of wine and order some takeout. We decided to walk Lawrence for a few blocks and pick one of the Korean places, but soon after setting out noticed that the streets were unusually hectic. Taxi cabs were honking their horns, and drivers leaning out of their windows yelling. After a few more minutes we noticed that eggs were flying through the air. And on the sidewalks were groups of teenagers, some in costume, some not, and all of them antagonizing anyone who walked by.

I want to take a minute to reiterate that this is very unusal for my neighborhood. I'd not seen anything like it, nor anything since. In an anthropology class I slept through in college, I remember reading an article that posited that Halloween served an important cultural role, as it was the one night of the year when all social norms could be upset, and more importantly, that children became the leaders of that revolt, while in their everyday lives they were expected to be more submissive. Very interesting in theory, a little spooky to experience as an unexpected demographic minority carrying $25 worth of Korean BBQ.

Argyle Avenue Philosopher

2008-10-13T18:44:00.000-07:00

A month removed from the flood. I've been in the new apartment for just about a week, all of the tubs are unpacked, pots and pans washed and rewashed. Miraculously, all of my fish survived, once again in spite of tremendous neglect.

For those who hadn't heard, I qualified for FEMA assistance money, which has largely gone toward replacing home goods so far. It was a healthy sum, and I still have over a grand left.

I'll post new pics of the new place eventually. I like it. The bedrooms are much bigger and the layout is better for two people. I traded "three steps down" for "three flights up", the latter being something I swore I would never do once I got the dog. But we're adjusting. I swear Atlas has pooped out sooner of a night than what he used to (PTL!). And he's totally smitten with the great beast of a Great Dane that lives next door.

The flood business has been great for meeting neighbors, both within the building and on the street. I now have an extra set of keys swapped with my friend Ann Upstairs (literally, that's what I have in my cellphone for her name, even though she now lives downstairs from me) and couple of offers for pet-sitting when the need arises.

I guess I had my first hint that life was getting back to normal on the drive home from work today. Previously in a near-constant state of preoccupation (where will I live? how long until vacation? where can I find a 3'x3' ottoman for under $200?), I was pleasantly surprised on my way home by an "only in Chicago" moment.

The El Blue line runs right down the middle of the highway I take to and from work each day. I was approaching my exit, a train passing me in the opposite direction. In classic Chicago El fashion, the cars were unadorned ribs of steel and plates of glass. Above in the skies, a front had been moving in and dark, wild curls of blue-grey clouds contrasted against a treeline of yellow-red autumn colors. For just a few moments, while the train passed in front of all this, it caught the light from the sun setting on the western horizon and blazed gold.

It was a type of collage unlike any I can remember seeing for some time: huge in its scope, industry and creation rubbing against each other, mundane in one sense, and entirely contemporary in another. It reminded me that this is why I live here now, to see things I can't see anywhere else, become someone only this good hard place can make me. Take a chance, get burned (or soaked, as the case may be) and let the act of putting it all back together, fearfully, prayerfully, teach me where I need to go next.

I've told people that I can't remember feeling so lonely as I did that first night after evacuating the flooded neighborhood, sleepless on a borrowed air matress in a partially rehabbed apartment, unsure of where I was going to living that next day, what of my beloved "things" I had lost, what the next step would or should be. A month later, I've never been so aware of my desire and need for connection, nor of my own ability to buckle down and survive, keep life afloat by alternate measures of sheer self will and total surrender. That may not mean much in the posh bougie life I live most days. But I know it's there.

Starbukked!

2008-09-23T19:22:00.000-07:00

My brain just isn't right sometimes.

This morning I had the following conversation with myself FOR THE SECOND TIME this month:

Boundless Optimism Andy: "Running ahead of schedule this morning. Maybe stop for a beverage?"

Grumpy Morning Andy: "Whatever, sure, it's only money. What do you want?"

BOA: "Something cold?"

GMA:"What are you, stupid? Definitely cold."

BOA: "More coffee-y, more creamy, or more fruity?"

GMA: "Ugh. No coffee. Juice is empty carbs. I guess creamy."

BOA: "So, cold, and creamy. Flavored?"

GMA: "A little, but nothing obnoxious, or not. Something like an iced latte, without the espresso, and with no syrup."

BOA: "You mean, like, a glass of milk?"

GMA: "I guess so. Does Starbucks do that? What about Dunkin?"

BOA: "I'm pretty sure you can pick that up at the deli in the lobby for, like, 89 cents."

GMA: --------

BOA: "You're mad now because you're embarrassed. Don't shut me out!"

GMA: "Just keep your eyes on the road."

Son of Lincoln

2008-09-23T18:54:00.000-07:00

It's official. I am an Illinois resident.

The Friday before The Flood, I had taken the day off for my Second City conservatory audition (did I mention I got in? :). Since I have been scootering around illegally (read: on an expired Missouri permit), I had set aside the morning to brave the Chicago DMV to get my Illinois Class L license (motorbikes under 150cc).

I was nervous. Like most sane people I hate the DMV, and I'd only been to those in the suburbs.

I'm out of energy for eloquence tonight, so I'll be precise:

1) The DMV was A) Massive, B) Clean, C) Very Well Organized, and D) Staffed By Genuinely Helpful People.

2) I was forced to surrender my Missouri license, take the Illinois driver's exam on the fly without any advanced study, and get my Illinois license before they would agree to scooter me.

When the nice lady at Station 17 told me the above, I told her I was concerned that I might fail the test. She said to me, "Honey, the only people that fail it are those that don't speak English." Which was kind of cool, because I think all women who work at the DMV should start every sentence with "Honey...", but was kind of sucky because it set a standard of which I was terrified of falling short. And also a little bit xenophobic. But just a little. And, after all, everyone's a rittle bit lacist.

So, I passed, and got my license and my scooter permit. I would post a picture, but the Man Mane was not having a good day. I look a little like Lorenzo Lamas.

The other good that came out of this was that I am now registered to vote up here. I'm glad I got that taken care of prior to the flood, because I can see that as being one of those things that I let fall by the wayside while I'm doing other life-y stuff.

Flood Pictures

2008-09-20T18:41:00.000-07:00

I am in my second "temporary" placement via my property managers, and the good news is that not only am I back in the neighborhood I know, but I also have stolen internet! Or rather, a generous neighbor with a strong enough signal and no security. Hooray.

This means I can finally post some pictures of the flood and it's aftermath for you. The pictures in the second post show the waters at the highest I saw them. Based on the watermarks on the wall, it appears that overnight it got much higher--3 to 3 1/2 feet in total. Fortunately, I didn't have to wade around in that!

More Pictures

2008-09-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

Flood Update

2008-09-16T14:33:00.003-07:00

I had all sorts of good stuff built up waiting for posting...my parents visited over Labor Day weekend and we had a GREAT time; I found a nice Saturday green market closer to home, where I lost my camera, bought a new one, and had my old one returned to me; I got cast in a workshop production here, which will be meeting through the fall; and, I just found out, I was ACCEPTED INTO THE SECOND CITY CONSERVATORY PROGRAM!

Unfortunately, as most all of you know, bigger news has happened.

On Saturday, September 13, 2008, my neighborhood, Albany Park, was deluged with a combination of leftover Hurrican Ike storms and a slow moving cold front. This resulted in about 24 hours of solid rain, which flooded first the nearby Chicago River, then the adjacent sewers, and ultimately the streets, yards, and sublevels of the buildings on my block. This includes my garden apartment.

48 hours later, here are the facts. My apartment has been ruined. A lost some personal property, namely bigger items like sofas, tables, etc. I also lost some personal memorabilia, including a box of pictures and souveneirs representing the years 1996 back through middle school. My renter's insurance has no clause for flooding, so I have no means of recompense.

But I am safe. Atlas is safe. Many very important and valued objects were unharmed. My property manager has been extremely gracious, taking me into his home for cleanup, then temporarily housing me in a different unit while a permanent solution arises. There is a possibility I could be housed permanently again by the end of the week. In spite of the fact that I was sloshing around in sewage and river water in sandals in 50 degree weather with pre-existing cold, I have not developed pneumonia or any other acute ailments (although I did swing by an urgent care center today, just to rule out Hep A exposure, thankyouverymuch Lisie).

I have been overwhelmed by support from back home and among short-time friends here. I already have offers from co-workers for extra furniture. Caring messages and prayers have been abundant, and in my shock and uncertainity I have certainly felt a blanket of grace and protection.

I have been trying this afternoon to post pictures, but I have to use my cell phone as a modem, and I am afraid the connection is too slow for photo uploads. Hang tight, as I hope to have this remedied in the next couple of days.

Meanwhile, thanks again for your support. Let me know if there are any questions I can answer for you.

Much love,

Andy (and Atlas)

Neighborhood: Greektown

2008-08-31T11:14:00.000-07:00

I'm tragically behind in updating, and my parents are due to roll in any minute for a holiday visit. So I'm going to pound this out pretty quickly.

Last Sunday was Greek Fest in the city's Greektown neighborhood. I was pretty excited about this because: A) I like Greek Food, and B) I'm always ready to explore beyond the city's north side.

Greektown is in area called the West Loop or West Loop Gate, just a few block's walk from the El Loop downtown and fairly close to Union Station. The city skyline, and especially the Sears Tower, are right at the doorstep of the neighborhood. With disparate ideas of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" , "Mamma Mia", and that place where Jerry, Elaine, and George would get their coffee on, I was expecting neat bungalows and greasy spoon restaurants, the streets filled with dancers (ABBA excluding) and folks yelling out "oompa!" every so often.

Unsurpsingly, the reality is quite different. As the shopgirl at one of the bakeries said, "We don't live here, we just eat here". There's no real neighborhood to speak of, as Greektown consists largely of about a three block stretch of Halsted Street. It's an interesting area, and wandering off of Halsted will put you in the middle of cool condo conversions, spas, and a restaurant called, intriguingly, "Butter". But there are no Orthodox churches nearby, no traditional single-family residences to speak of, and certainly no garage doors painted with Greek flags.

What it might lack in breadth, it makes up for in intensity. That short stretch of Halsted packs some serious Hellenic culinary heft, with restaurant after restaurant after bakery backed up one against the other. The fest consisted largely of each restuarant pitching a tent in front of its respective storefront and doing some serious foodie showmanship. I opted for two favorites: the flaming cheese appitizer known as saganaki and the grape leaves stuffed with beef, lamb, and rice with lemon sauce, also known as dolmades. Great stuff.

Me being me, however, the highlight was the trip to the bakery, which had cleverly prepackaged a sampler with rosewater cakes, pistachio mini-pies, a variety of other goodies and, of course, baklava. Redd, my cohort for the afternoon, showed considerably more restraint and opted for a single piece of chocolate-dipped bakalava.

I'm determined to get back for the unseasonable weather hits, as a couple of the restaurants had fantastic patios and specialities listed on the menu that were tempting enough to encourage movement away from my old stand-bys.

Southport Green Market: Kind of Lame, Kind of Not...well...Mostly Lame

2008-08-24T17:09:00.001-07:00

A Saturday in-home brunch invite afforded me the opportunity to hit another green market in the city, this time the one housed in one of my favorite areas: Southport.

KKagogo had offered to whip up some french toast for me at her great apartment near the dog beach, and invited both me and pooch over for some vittles and R&R. Impressed as I have been by the seasonal produce lately, I offered to bring over a fruit salad. Southport, while not necessarily on the way to KK's was at least closer than Lincoln Park. I figured, given its great collection of pubs and cafes, that the green marked there would have some pretty fantastic offerings.

It's important to recognize that the Southport Green Market is only in its second year of existence, so I guess they're still trying to get their act together. It is housed on the grounds of Blaine School, right in the middle of all the action, and across the street from the Music Box Theater, Chicago's north side indie cinema capital. Wrigley Field is about four blocks due east. Hipsters, strollers, and hipsters with strollers containing baby hipsters abound. As do a pretty solid khaki-and-polo shirt set.

The market consisted of about seven to eight vendors, of which two sold fresh produce, one sold cheeses, and another had eastern European pastries. The others sold pottery and purses, a few flowers, and I can't even remember what else. Maybe insurance, or time shares. Florida swampland. Rainbows and promises. Whatever. Not the best selection.

I picked up a few Michigan peaches and a pint of blueberries, both of which were of very good quality. Even though I was on my way to brunch, I also picked up a pain au chocolat (croissant with a bar of chocolate baked in), because, well, it looked good and why do I have to explain myself to the likes of you? This ended up being fortuitous, as KK called shortly thereafter and begged a raincheck due a rough night out with friends the previous evening.

I think the nicest thing about the Southport Green Market is the setting. Blaine School and its surroundings have obviously undergone a good deal of redevelopment lately, and there are a couple of playgrounds and a nice greenspace that were being entertainingly enjoyed by the hipster and preppie offspring. They also had a nice doggie bowl with fresh water and plenty of treats for the four-legged patrons. Not to mention plenty of outposts for a Bloody Mary or espresso doppio in which to drown your sorrows over the fact that you're still going to have to give up that sweet parking space outside your building in order to trek out to Whole Foods for those cepes or daikon you were hoping to score. Such are the trials of the bourgeois.

In the middle of all this stood me, with dog on leash and a backpack containing poop baggies and a bottle with the last few drams of balsamic vinegar I bought a few years back in Florence. It was hot, over 90 degrees at 10AM already and the man mane was being blown hither and thither by the breeze. I was confused, disappointed, and a little disoriented. Then I looked over and saw a pair of blondes looking my way and smiling.

"This is good," I thought.

Then they started giggling.

"This is not so good," I thought.

I looked down to see my charming pup, leg hiked, relieving himself on basket of cantelopes. So much for sophistication. I shot a nervous glance over at the vendor, who was negotiating a sale, and beat a hasty retreat. From what I could tell, it looked like Atlas had missed contact with the actual fruit, but had succeeded in creating a soggy corner of the basket.

Later, on the drive home, I stuck my greedy paw into the bag of blueberries and started liberally sampling. After about the second handful it occurred to me that if my dog could piss on this guy's cantelopes, who knows what had happened to these blueberries? The rest waited until we got home.

Gary Sinise and The Lt. Dan Band, Chicago Air and Water Show

2008-08-19T20:52:00.001-07:00

Let's be thankful for that contract with CBS, Gary.

Bill Murray Skydives at Chicago Air Show

2008-08-19T20:49:00.001-07:00

Just remember, when he finally jumps out of the plane, and you can see the land, somewhere far far to the left is little old me.

Get Thee To A Grocery

2008-08-19T18:32:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to drum up some enthusiasm to post about this prior weekend's big Chicago event: the airshow. One weekend every August, all along the lakeshore just north of downtown, a pretty impressive collection of vintage and state-of-the art aircraft are demonstrated for masses of Chicagoans who collect at North Avenue Beach to watch not only the planes, but also such special goodies as hometown native Bill Murray making a parachute entrance (no kidding!) and a performance of the local band fronted by Steppenwolf Theater member (and CSI:NY lead), Gary Sinise. That's Lieutenant Dan to you.

But the truth is, I just couldn't get too enthusiastic about it. I didn't make it down to North Avenue Beach, and I was sort of infected by the local malaise that comes from the sound of constant jet screams disturbing the seemingly perfect summer skies.

I did have one cool encounter with the airshow. While driving KKagogo home from brunch on Saturday (Cafe Selmarie in Lincoln Square, scrambled egg whites, home fries, chocolate raspberry tart, yum), we were heading east, toward the lake, on Lawrence, when we heard one of those massive roars. I looked up directly in front of us to see a B-2 stealth bomber, making a turn to head back toward the crowds. Just as it crossed Lawrence, it banked away from us, from full massive bat-winged profile to the littlest sliver of a line in the sky, then sped away. Stealth, indeed.

So, multi-million dollar cutting edge military technology couldn't move me to write, but today, fruit did.

With the scooter, I've been taking smaller and more frequent shopping trips, which means I've been spending more time in various local groceries. I've also been more conscious of the quality of produce since visting the green market at Lincoln Park the weekend before last. I'm a food lover and amateur chef, so this is the kind of stuff that gets my attention. While at the green market, I had picked up some white peaches just to finish of my allocated $10 budget and they later proved to be the highlight of my carry-in lunches for the first two days of work last week. Subsequent shopping trips seconded the general quality of not only the peaches available, but also some eat-all-but-the-pits super-sweet nectarines. Add to that the beauty (and cheap prices) of late-summer strawberries and tomatoes, and it's a great time to be a fresh food lover.

When I first reformatted this blog, I said I was going to try to expand its content beyond resident tourism, but haven't been too successful so far. But moreso than any city exploration these past few weeks, I've been most excited about stuff like the great seasonal food I've been finding and a successful run at a classic french chicken stew.

Like it or not, you're about to get more flavor from Chiblogo.

Really, these white peaches are not to be missed. Run out to your local grocer and pick up a couple. They should have just a slight give under the skin, and, like most all ripe fruit, at least a little aroma when you sniff them. For best results, an additional 24 hours in a brown paper bag should bring them right about to perfect.

My favorite way to enjoy them is sliced real thin, in a bowl, with a couple of quartered ripe strawberries. The white peaches have a clean, bright, subtle sweetness that pairs well with the more broad sweetness of the strawberries. To really deepen the flavor, drizzle lightly with a good quality balsamic vinegar and just a little honey, then give a toss. I say load up now, it's the perfect way to end what has been a beautiful summer with a minimum of missed-opportunity regrets.

Web Revolt

2008-08-19T18:28:00.000-07:00

Um, yeah. I don't know why those YouTube videos of the "tornado" didn't post until the 15th. I sent them from my YouTube account the same day I wrote the post about the storm, the 9th. When I noticed they didn't post that day, I assumed they just got lost in the digital ether. Weird. My apologies for any confusion.

Tornado Evacuation at Wrigley

2008-08-15T20:47:00.007-07:00

Lots of shaky cam action in this one with amateur commentator. Takes you right into the action.

Lightning at Wrigley 8/4/08

2008-08-15T20:47:00.005-07:00

The original title of this was "WRIGLEY HIT BY LIGHTNING: CUBS LOSE". Only half of that statement was true.

Lightning over the Chicago El (Brown Line)

2008-08-15T20:47:00.003-07:00

I like this video. It's short and has some good clean action in it. Plus, Brown Line is my line.

August 4th Video #1

2008-08-15T20:47:00.001-07:00

Okay, I'm warning you up front that not much happens here. But it's a beautifully composed shot, and if you turn out the lights and put on some new age music, I'm sure you'll get some sort of trip.

Pay attention, however, to the way the Hancock Tower slowly disappears in the upper right hand corner.

Media Blather

2008-08-11T13:46:00.001-07:00

The following is a quote from Allessandra Stanley's article "True or False: Everyone Looks 10 Pounds Guiltier on TV" in today's New York Times, about the recent media appearances by John Edwards related to his disclosed affair. I thought it was fairly insightful, if a bit mean-spirited.

"Narcissism doesn't lead politicians to believe that they can have an affair and get away with it. It leads them to believe that they can go on television and dispel it. "

It's an interesting read: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/10/weekinreview/10stanley.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

City Treasure

2008-08-09T18:46:00.001-07:00

I ran across this on the way home today:

Margie's Candies on Montrose. About a mile and a half from home. Less than 15 minutes by scooter. Directly under the Brown Line stop at Montrose. Homemade candies. Full-service old-fashioned soda fountain, with at least two whole menu pages of ice cream treats, including specialty sundaes, phosphates, and ice cream sodas. And, if the sign is to be believed, fresh apple pie by the slice.

Two scoops of coconut ice cream in a cake cone. $2.

Better Than Wonka's Golden Ticket?

2008-08-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

As you have likely heard, the economic downturn has even Starbucks scrambling to try to turn things around.

One wicked, wicked, wicked tactic they are test-marketing here in Chicago (and, apparently, in Miami and Seattle) involves the Green Receipt.

The Green Receipt entitles you to a $2 grande sized iced beverage. This is nice for a couple of reasons. First, an iced drink on a hot day is refreshing. Secondly, for most items on the Starbucks menu, this is almost half its regular price. Thirdly, that price means its now with the realm of reasonable prices for a specialty beverage. This is a good thing, right? No, it's GREAT. Starbucks for the masses! Ticker tape parades! Sign. Me. Up.

How does one get The Green Receipt? This is where the evil bit comes in. The only way to get The Green Receipt is by buying FULL PRICE Starbucks beverage prior to 2PM. You then have to wait until after 2PM on THE SAME DAY before you can use The Green Receipt. Aaaannnddd...it expires that day. So, yes, in order to get the good deal, you have to visit Starbucks twice in the same day.

Cancel the parade. Call my lawyer.

This has led to something of a black market. As no one wants to be one of Those People who go to Starbucks twice in the same day, they'll go in the morning, get The Green Receipt, and then use it as a bit of leverage in a bartering exchange.

Which led to the following exchange, overheard at my office:

A: "I went to Starbucks on the way in."

B: "Yum. What did you get?"

A: "Mocha"

B: "Ooh. Did you get The Green Receipt?"

A: "Yeah, but I don't think I'm going there again today."

B: "Can I have it?"

A: "(laughing) What's it worth to you?"

B: "Well, I'm not going to pay you for it."

A: "Call my boyfriend for me and tell him he's being an [edited for general audience] about this trip."

B: "Ummm...okay."

See what I mean? Evil.

ChiScooter Outing #1

2008-08-09T08:55:00.001-07:00

Today's forcast called for thunderstorms at some point, and all that I had heard most recently pointed toward an evening cloudbreak. Armed with this dangerous bit of speculation, I headed out thinking I would be safe in the open air. Needless to say, 10 minutes into the trip found me waiting out a brief rain at the Cafe Neo in Lincoln Square, about a mile from home. Obscenely large breakfast crepe of turkey and egg whites and good no-frills espresso. Free wi-fi. Patron of questionable mental status who left when his sandwich was served with tomatoes, which he claimed he had not requested.

The rain cleared quickly and I was soon on my way. As I've mentioned before, the streets of Chicago are laid out in a fairly consistent grid pattern, north to south and west of downtown, with a handful of streets running at a diagonal to make getting cross- and down-town more speedy. One of those diagonal streets is Lincoln Avenue, which defines the Lincoln Square neighborhood on it's northwest end.

The Green City Market is at the southeast end of Lincoln Avenue, terminating at Lincoln Park (the park) on the lakeshore in Lincoln Park (the neighborhood). In true Lincoln Park fashion, the Green City Market runs itself independently from the official farmer's market program sponsored by the city. It was everything you could hope for in a farmer's market: fresh produce at good prices, great speciality items (including flowers, meats, and local honey), outdoor troubadors, and made-to-order food stands. I picked up some french red shallots and mushrooms for a chicken dish I am going to try tomorrow, as well as some white peaches for lunches next week.

The market is right across a park road from a pretty nifty destination I had missed entirely during my first visit to the Lincoln Park Zoo, the "Farm". It's a faux farm, intended to give city kids the chance to gawk at cows and talk about planting corn with a real life "farmer". I had originally wandered in looking for a bathroom, but ended up hanging out for awhile, um, gawking at the cows and, errr, listening to some kids talk to a real life "farmer". My favorite moment came as I was leaving, when a tiny voice echoed out over the entire farm, "But Daddy, I don't have to go to the bathroom!".

I was determined to give scootering in Chicago a good trial, so I set my sights on driving through downtown to try to penetrate the navigational challenge that is collectively called The Museum Campus, on the lakeshore on the south side of downtown. The Museum Campus consists of the buildings for the Field Museum, Adler Planetarium, Shedd Aquairium, Soldier Field, and a few other marinas and park lands. Like Navy Pier, it sits at a remove from the bustle of downtown, separated by both Grant Park and the very busy Lakeshore Drive. I've been trying for sometime to figure out the best way to access it, and while I had several U-turns and more than one episode of doubling-back, I think I have at least a marginally improved understanding. Columbus Avenue. I think it's all about Columbus Avenue.Scootering in Chicago is fantastic! It is so much more of an immersive experience than either taking public transit or driving yourself. I had 10-second conversations with drivers at stoplights, surfed the tomato-basil wake of a pizza delivery truck, and opened up full-throttle for a northbound stretch of Lakeshore Drive. All of this on top of parking convenience (all of those parallel spots not big enough for your SUV? Not a problem. Wasted space in the corners of parking lots next to the grocery store? Insta-parking!). Not to mention that, in total, I spent about four hours on the road today and burned less than a quater tank of gas. Not bad considering my tank capacity is about 1.5 gallons. Cheaper than the CTA!

Whirlwind Visit

2008-08-09T08:51:00.001-07:00

This news is already days old. My apologies.

My dad, ever the two-wheel enthusiast, made a special one-night visit to drop off the scooter, bringing my mom with him. I think she was thankful for the chance to scope out the place where her baby landed. With my work schedule, our time together was a little limited, so I was determined to get them down to Lincoln Square for a late supper.

As we headed off from the apartment, I noticed the skies darkening, and not too shortly thereafter rain started to fall at a pretty good clip. We settled quickly in a sandwich shop, me trying to fight off my disappointment that I couldn't walk them around the area or enjoy a meal al fresco. Meanwhile, the storm was really picking up (Clue #1), which we noted with passing interest as our conversation continued.

After finishing the meal, I attempted to drive them over for a glimpse of Wrigley Field, but were thwarted first by a flooded road (Clue #2) and then by barracaded streets and crowds streaming out of the ballpark (Clue #3).

It was only after we made our way home and turned on the news that we found out the city was under a tornado alert and that a funnel cloud of some sort had touched down right on Michigan Avenue, just miles away! I swear we never once heard an alarm, and the sandwich place had Muzak playing instead of the radio, so we missed all the warnings.

Brushes with danger aside, we had a nice, if brief, visit. They are set to come back through Labor Day weekend for a more extensive stay.

Meanwhile, I am so excited to have the scooter here! Today it is 78 degrees, with alternating sun and clouds, and I am off to find a farmer's market.

River City Revelry

2008-08-03T22:48:00.000-07:00

Anticipating a break between sessions at Second City, I planned a trip home this weekend to catch up.

I had the most wonderful time with everyone. Really, the only way the weekend could have been more perfect is if gas prices had dropped to 1998 levels while my car started emitting gold dubloons instead of carbon footprints.

It was a busy weekend, for sure, and I am pretty wiped out right now, but it was worth it. I had at least a few stolen moments of good connection with friends and family, and feel grounded and rejuvenated and moved all over again.

I've entered the pictures from the weekend as their own posts so that I could allow myself the editorial freedom to write a little more with details. See below.

2008-08-03T22:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, a bloke just needs some time with his ma, you know? Well, at least this bloke does, so I quickly committed her to spending Saturday morning with me on Main Street in Old St. Charles.

This is hands down my favorite part of my home town. I love the cobblestone streets and the independent shops and restaurants, as well as the proximity to the river and the Katy Trail. The buildings are, for the most part, original colonial-era brick houses and the whole thing feels just so much OTHER than suburbia.

My mom wanted to check out the farmer's market, which I also had never visited, so we headed there first. She picked up some great looking red and yellow tomatoes for a new salad reciped, and we sampled some homemade chutneys and mustards.

We then walked the length of Main Street, up several blocks and back down the other. Not really looking for anything in particular, but just glad to be out and about.

We ended with an early lunch at Lewis & Clark's Restaurant, an old family favorite. We indulged and ordered an appetizer combo platter to share, which brought all sorts of fried goodness, and talked reality TV and Hollywood gossip for a bit. We both agree that Shiloh Jolie

Pitt is an unusually beautiful child and that $14 million is ridiculous amount of money for anyone to pay for ANY photograph of wrinkly newborns. Superficial stuff, I know, but sometimes the brain just has to be shut off for awhile, and I think we both needed that, and enjoyed finding it together.

2008-08-03T22:28:00.000-07:00

Mom, discovering the joys of a frozen Caramel Latte at Picasso's Coffee on Main Street. How cute is she?

Great little coffeeshop, fiercely independent, makes a good iced coffee the right way, and now actively recycling.

2008-08-03T22:24:00.000-07:00

cA stretch of the Katy Trail, near the farmer's market in Old St. Charles. One of my favorite places in the world. A great place to run and the site of some good conversations between my sister and I over the past few years.

2008-08-03T22:12:00.001-07:00

For the past several years, some counties in Missouri have offered tax-free weekends in August to help parents catch a break on back-to-school shopping. My sister and her husband have decided that this year the kids are old enough to be responsible for their own selections, so I was brought in as a consultant for my niece as she worked her way, meticulously, through the mall. Along the way, I was even able to knock out a little pre-headshot photo session shopping myself, and STILL got the tax break. Wa-hoo! Not to mention two pair of name brand jeans (one of them a "skinny" pair that look, I must say, to borrow a phrase from the 80's "boss" on me), each for under $15! Double the Wa, triple the hoo!

Let me tell you, these kids are more disciplined with money than I could ever dream to be. The counted every penny, worked every two-for-one sale and special promo they could. After about three hours, they each had several new items and had still only spent about 20% of their generous allowances. I blew more than that in my first 40 minutes.

2008-08-03T21:26:00.000-07:00

A part of the good Lord's mercy toward me is that I was given the most spectacular group of friends with whom to weather the massive craphole that was my mid-to-late 20's. I love these men and women like my own family, and feel so blessed to know and be known by them.

The past year and half or so has brought a lot of change, and we're now spread about the country (and abroad, for some lucky b-tards), but there's a core group still in St. Louis, and we were able to get together for several hours on Saturday night.

For a good little stretch awhile back, we were able to have themed "family dinner" nights together, and we got close to that again this weekend. We had a Good Old Fashioned American Cookout, with burgers and salad and cheesy potatoes and lemonade and ice cream sundaes and more ('cause it IS America, and there's always more). We caught up, we played with each other's kids, we teased each other mercilessly, talked politics, and ate, ate, and ate.

Hopped up on sugar and trans fats, we floated our inhibitions down the mighty Mississippi and picked up the digital instruments of Wii Rock Band. This a group generally unafraid of a little histrionics in the first place, but put a microphone or electric guitar in our hands, give us a digital alter-ego with better abs and cooler hair, and you're asking for a show. Flora DaBluntwon overcame her initial protest over the lack of Joni Mitchell songs to find out she shares a similiar vocal range with Sting. Her husband, Fresh Inkk, proved to all of us that, alas, in spite of sharing a quality Georgian education, he is no Michael Stipe. Meanwhile, the curious pairing of myself with MacScot and Songbird Escalatia proved powerful enough to unlock TWO, count 'em, TWO songs that none of us had even HEARD before---on the first try! Amusement AND a sense of accomplishment, in the same evening. What more could you ask for?

2008-08-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

I have been getting anxious to get my scooter up here for some time now. In the interim (and actually since winter), my parents have been very graciously storing it at their house.

My dad's support of my scootering habit has been pretty great. He's been a Harley guy for about 10 years now, and you'd think that his son showing up on a 125cc scooter would be the equivalent of asking for Barbies for Christmas instead of a baseball glove, but he's been nothing but enthusiastic about my interest in anything on two wheels, going out of his ways on several occasions (the day I drove it home, the day I first wrecked it, the night I had to go to the urgent care center...) to pal around with me and the bike.

So I was really thankful that we were able to squeeze in a nice little ride this morning. I wasn't too sure it was going to happen at first. Early on the skies were awfully overcast, and we even had a brief patch of rain. But the weather quickly cleared, and so, after a terrific ham and eggs breakfast my mom whipped up, we hit the road.

Even I have to laugh at the what the pair of us looked like: my dad, in his jeans and Harley t-shirt, on his great big bike, and me following, on a Taiwanese-made, Italian-retro-styled scooter wearing skinny jeans and a bright green windbreaker and cherry-red helmet. We snaked around some country highways just north of St. Charles, and I noticed more than one good ol' boy in a pickup doing a double take and starting to chuckle.

Critics be damned, however, because I was having a blast. Sharing a biking trip like that with your dad can be a pretty moving thing. Maybe it's a cliche, but the idea of two loners making their way down the road together really resonated with me. I think it's hard for fathers and sons to put some things into words. This ride, for me, was one of those moments in life that isn't about discussions, or plans, or ideas even, but simple shared experience, the one who's gone before and the one who is following, in the moment---together.

2008-08-03T20:56:00.001-07:00

How do you top off such a wonderful weekend of activity? With awesome food, of course. For lunch before I left, my prodigously talented sister and her husband grilled up some wonderful Mexi-Cali flavors, including shrimp tacos on toasted tortillas with an amazing pablano-avocado salsa, homemade guacamole, and the above dish, called Oyster Bar Trash, that includes a whole mess of shellfish meats, rice, and veggies.

2008-07-30T18:25:00.001-07:00

I've mentioned before that Windy City politics are their own breed of business. Here's a great example:

Yesterday, a hearing was held by the city finance committee to introduce an ordinance which would require all cats and dogs over 6 mos old to be spayed or neutered. And who would happen to show up, but America's foremost spokesman for pet population control:

Seriously, Bob Barker showed up to testify in favor of a Chicago city ordinance! Want to know the best part? EVERYONE was talking about it today. I first heard about it on NPR. NPR! They mentioned it twice--TWICE--on my 45-minute commute to work this morning. It wasn't even the real vote, just an introductory meeting, and you know that SOMEONE in city politics felt it was necessary to pull ol' Bob out of some Palm Springs retirement community to weather (literally) Chicago in July.

What a ridiculous kick!

Sandy Whiskers

2008-07-25T12:33:00.001-07:00

Work has been a little rough again this week, and I have also felt a little like I've lost some focus in the past month, so I have been feeling a little down.

Being the ever-vigilant mental health professional, I started working my way through my positive coping skills: talk to a friend, do a little more exercising, prayer and reflection, problem solving with work dilemmas.

On Tuesday, I took Atlas to the local dog park, which reminded me of the one at the beach we went to on Memorial Day, which reminded me that I live about TWO MILES FROM A FRIGGIN' BEACH! What could possibly be better for a case of the blues than a mini-vacation to the shore?

So I loaded up the pooch, connected with my friend KKagogo, and headed for the sand last night after work.

We wandered over to the dog each first for a bit, where Atlas found a couple of labs he could pester for a bit. He doesn't have an ounce of tracker in him, so it was funny to see other pet owners throw tennis balls, which would be followed by a flurry of tails, which would then be followed by Atlas, who was just along for the ride.

He doesn't much care for the water, but loves a good wrestle, so it was not uncommon for me to call him to return and find his black "mask" completely covered in sand.

Pup worn out, we then walked the people portion of the beach, watched some soccer players, a few passes of a volleyball by some teenagers. A front was moving in , so there was a cool breeze, but not so cold that I needed sleeves. KKagogo and I, both transplants to the city, discussed our respective experiences while following the shoreline. It was beautiful outside, for sure, but even better just to have a substantive conversation with someone, especially someone uniquely empathetic to my recent transitions.

We ended the night in search of ice cream, eventually settling at a Baskin Robbins (two scoops--coconut and pistachio almond). I'm a fairly easy call on some things, I guess: comfort in a grand place; comfort in friends; comfort in a bowl.

WrigleyGirls

2008-07-23T19:12:00.000-07:00

My guests this past weekend so completely wore me out that an absolutely necessary nap on Sunday afternoon after they left wrecked my momentum, hence the delay in posting.
But I'm not complaining. I have been blessed, BLESSED I tell you, to have an amazing run of visits from folks back home, which continued this weekend. Slamela Anderssen and Holita Cowe, both friends from the office in St. Louis, zipped in on Friday night for a weekend of spoiling and running around. Since we work for a slave-driving company (I tease, I kid...or not), they got a late afternoon start and mid-evening arrival. We knew we'd be in for the night, so I threw together some nachos, some margaritas, and cookie dough and got caught up on all the latest company politics while Atlas worked his charms.

Many of you know that Holita has a unique personal connection to legendary Cubs announcer Harry Caray, and spending time with her in Chicago, retracing steps she had taken at previous points of her life, retasting flavors she had grown to love, was a real treat. The highlight was Saturday night, when she graciously treated Slamela and I to a wonderful dinner at Carey's famed downtown restaurant. We met his widow, Dutchie, got to sample his favorite chicken dish, and even got a peek at his private office on the second floor. The restaurant is filled with memorabilia and art inspired by Harry, including a full-sized Hole-y Cow and pictures galore. It was halfway through dinner before I realized that our table was directly beneath the key to some small town in Indiana that had been given to Caray. Once I clued into this, I glanced around and saw several others among the photos and plaques and news story clippings, etc., large portions of which had been carefully collected by Holita's own mother through Caray's early career. Holita told us stories of knowing him, and it was clear that he was a man who brought a lot of people a lot of joy. It was pretty wild to see exactly how much he still did. Due to a delay on the train, I missed the customary singing of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" that happens at 7:30 each night, but both Holita and Slamela said it was pretty awesome.

All of this was such a unique, privileged way of seeing the city, but Holita and Slamela brought so much more through their effervescent energy and curiosity. Saturday morning was spent checking out the boutiques in the city's ritzy Gold Coast area, including a pet shop where Holita picked up a gourmet baseball "cookie" for Atlas and a few other treats for her "grandpuppies". We checked out high end jeans from a West Coast designer who has created fashionable tees with developmentally challenged kids, as well as miniature sized full reproductions of his most popular styles. We marveled/gagged at the retro 80's hipster clothes at American Apparel. We cruised the windows at Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Armani, and even got a kick out of the fact that in this day and age people can buy several grand worth of jewels and baubles from Tiffany & Co, while still wearing plastic flip flops.

After lunch at what has to be the most complex food court in America, we took a shiny glass elevator to the top of Watertower Place and literally walked the whole place from top to bottom. Their enthusiasm was relentless; zipping in and out of shops, testing, trying on, laughing. After spending so much time these past few months just trying to keep things together for my new life, it was a welcome surprise to get swept up in someone else's energy. I even skipped improv class.

Sunday morning I took them to Southport in Wrigleyville for another go at brunch (I've been spoiled this month). This time I got to sample a local institution call Ann Sather, which is known for two things: their multiple variations on Eggs Benedict and their cinnamon rolls, which they literally serve WITH EVERY DISH ON THEIR MENU. And they were super-tasty. As in I had flashbacks about them today at work. That good. When my lease is up here, I may try to move in next door there.

After eating our weight in breakfast, we worked it off with a stroll over to Wrigley Field to check things out with Holita. I also wanted to show them how developers had built bleacher seats on the roofs of the apartment buildings across the street from the stadium. On the way back to the train we (surprise) even got some shopping in. Due back home for other commitments, we called it a day and I saw them off from the apartment.

As I said earlier, I just feel blessed. I have such good people in my life who are gracious and fun and interested in the wide world, and I get to tag along. As with the Maplewood Family and J-Dog, the chance to share this new place with such caring people whom I, in turn, care deeply about, takes all this STUFF that makes up this city and brings some measure of actual meaning to it. Beauty. Connection. Love. That's worth more to me than all the Tiffany baubles and city keys in the world.

J-Dog, Mimosas, Wrigleyville, Improv

2008-07-13T16:38:00.000-07:00

J-Dog came from StL for a visit this weekend! While the move has gone well, and I am really enjoying my Chicago friends, there is nothing like seeing a longtime friend again. It was good to host him, good to catch up, and good to have him along as we explored the city some more.

We had a nice, laid-back time, making breakfast burritos, visting funky t-shirt shops, and enjoying the scene in and around Wrigleyville. In spite of of threatening skies, J was even able to squeeze in an afternoon at the beach while I was at improv class.

On Saturday night, my Second City connections allowed me to get a pair of free tickets to a new review, called "Second City All-Stars". The All-Stars in this instance were a rotating team of six veterans of the conservatory and various Second City companies, including the touring groups and the resident company. KKagogo, who went with me to iO earlier in the week, and JR, the roommate, were able to meet up with us. I enjoyed the show quite a lot, and think I am discovering that I tend to favor short form improv like Second City's over the long-form of iO. For the show last night, they worked through about a half dozen different types of improv exercises, including monologues and a mock debate. One of the first bits they did involved a made up musical, complete with pianist accompaniment, and I was blown away. I wanted to jump up and give it a try, too!

After the show, we were looking for a place to get some ice cream for a scratchy throat J-Dog had been nursing all weekend. There's a chain up here called Pot Belly Sandwich Works that also happens to pride themselves on serving hand-dipped milkshakes and sundaes. Although we had been looking specifically for an ice cream shop, we eventually tired of wandering and settled on a Pot Belly that we happened to come across. It turns out it was the original location for the restaurant, in Lincoln Park with a big pot-bellied stove right in the middle of the dining room.

This morning, after a good sleep-in, we met up with an old Truman acquaintence, Sasi, who has lived in Chicago since finishing undergrad. J-Dog has kept in better touch with her since then, so for me it was like meeting her all over again, and we had a really nice time.

Since we had resigned the morning over to pure leisure, we decided to indulge in one of my favorite big-city past-times, Sunday brunch. In my various exploits of the past week, I had discovered a neighborhood called Southport, a part of larger Wrigleyville, and right around the corner from Wrigley Field itself. Since Sasi lived relatively close, we decided it would be a good place to meet up. Wrigleyville overall tends to skew towards 20-something singles, which is fun in and of itself, but Southport bumps it up a little bit and adds a lot of young families to the mix. I saw one guy pushing a double stroller with twins, and a young couple in which the the wife was GINORMOUSLY pregnant and STILL out for a brunch stroll.

We enjoyed an American/Irish buffet at a pub, and I topped things off with my first Bloody Mary (with a touch of Guinness stout), which was alright. A bit like drinking cold vegetable soup, but I get it. Sasi, quite the Mary connoisseur, said that the were decent, but not the best. I'm not opposed to trying again. Southport, on the other hand, is an unqualified success in my book. Great tree-lined streets with lots of shops and restaurants, including a place with about a dozen different Italian ice flavors and a new-old-fashioned candy shoppe with a signed movie poster for the first Willy Wonka movie. At a shoe store, I bought new sunglasses in a retro-Aviator style (for $14!) so I can have a hipster edge next time I am feeling a little under-classed in Wicker.

J-Dog left this afternoon. I made him get off the El a few stops too early and walk through a music festival in Lincoln Square with me in an effort to stretch out the last little bit. Over the past few months I've been thinking about the cliche that says that the only constant in life is change, which seems to gain traction as a worldview the more I live my own life. But having things that ground you during change, like family, or faith, or, in this case, good friends, goes a long way to making that cliche seem less like a threat and more of an invitation.

Atlas: Year One

2008-07-11T04:43:00.000-07:00

Today is Atlas' birthday (also my sister's wedding anniversary--congrats to you!).

As a little celebration, we got to break his big no-no rule about people food, and he enjoyed a vanilla buttercream cupcake as "bonus breakfast". Is it wrong that I was a little jealous?

In his honor, the video bar on the right has been updated to include first birthday and puppy birthday goodness. Enjoy!

Misunderstood the Ghost

2008-07-08T20:12:00.001-07:00

KKagogo, another friend from improv class, invited me out to a show at iO, formerly known as Improv Olympic, the other big game in town.

The cubs are playing a series in town, and the tiny iO theater is right around the corner from Wrigley. I got two shows tonight: one on stage, the other in the streets.

KKagogo describes iO as more down to earth than Second City. I think that refers to the fact that the space they perform in is smaller, and you might be prone to hearing more profanity. They are known for doing more "long form" improv, which means they will build scene for scene in long continuous loops without stopping for the entire length of the show. I felt exhausted just watching them, but enjoyed the show.

They stumbled into a scene that felt like classic Monty Python, about residents of a haunted mansion who couldn't quite make out the warning to "get out of my house".

"What? Go buy a dead mouse? Harold, why would he ask us to do such a filthy thing?" Good stuff.

As for the street scene, the game was finishing up as I left iO. I have to say I kind of like Cubs fans. Their love of the game is contagious, even for a non-fan like me. And they so clearly enjoy each other, as evident by the pockets of people hanging around outside the stadium, not too anxious to get home, laughing and recapping the night. Evidence that sport can bring out the best in people.

Going Out to Sea...errr...Lake

2008-07-06T19:42:00.001-07:00

I spent some time watching boats being loaded in, then later making their way out of the marina and into open water.

It reminded me of a period of my childhood when we lived in Florida. For a couple of years we had a boat and I have specific memories of my parents and older brother loading it into the water, which is a painstaking process at times, and then the relief of being in and ready to take off. It was a cool connection, a set of memories that hadn't been stirred in awhile.

Did make me miss my family a bit, though.

Ducks & Seagulls

2008-07-06T17:31:00.000-07:00

I awoke this morning with the distinct feeling that I had given short-shrift to both Lincoln Park and Atlas yesterday. So this afternoon, determined to set things right, I loaded the dog into the car and drove along Lake Shore Drive back to Lincoln Park (the park) to do a little more exploring.

I was a little duplicitous in my motives, too. Atlas and I had been going around and around with regards to nail trimming lately, and I had spotted a Petsmart not too far off of the park while wandering yesterday. I'm also looking for a new pair of summer sandals, and a late night internet search yielded a hit for one of the biggest shoe stores in the city around the corner from the pet store. After scoring a parking spot on a side road between the park and the neighborhood, I dropped Atlas off at the grooming center in the store and hopped over to the shoe store.

The shopping excursion was a bust, but Atlas did great at his first trip to the groomers. I turns out that one of my neighbors worked in this particular grooming center, and as we finished up she told me to just give her a call next time, and she'll come over and do it for free! Can't beat that!

To-do list completed, we made our way to the park. (side note: I am just really impressed by my dog. We were walking some busy, busy streets getting from the car to the store to the beach, and he did fantastic, sticking by my side and following the lead really well. I am so lucky.)

After a pit stop for some water and shade, we crossed over the park to the marina, spending some time watching boats come and go. The Lake still amazes me. It is so bizarre to me that it is not an ocean, but has the feeling of one. I think even the wildlife get confused, as I saw both wood ducks and seagulls hanging around the boats. It was another bright, clear day and the crowds were out en masse, making for some great people watching. And scooter watching. Lots of scooters around Lincoln Park, making me anxious to get my own up here soon.

We spent close to two hours in the park and still covered only a fraction of it. I was reflecting on my difficulty yesterday in avoiding comparison with the zoo and was naturally doing something similar today with Lincoln Park as a whole and St. Louis' Forest Park. I started listing off all the things in the latter that I found so beautiful and awe-inspiring, like the Grand Basin at Art Hill, and wondering if I could find as much inspiration here. Right about that time, we were walking out of a little hollow of trees, over a grassy hill covered with flowers, and a view of the lake, complete with sailboats, suddenly filled the horizon, with the downtown skyline visible just a bit to the south. Comparisons suddenly seemed very futile. My restless mind went still. And I was grateful for just being able to be here.

Lincoln Park - Additional Photos

2008-07-06T07:14:00.001-07:00

Rhino March-Lincoln Park Zoo

2008-07-06T07:12:00.001-07:00

He's not really doing anything exceptional, but he's just so beastly that it seems almost majestic just to watch him move.

Neighborhood Field Trip: Lincoln Park

2008-07-05T21:40:00.000-07:00

In describing Lincoln Park, the neighborhood (and not to be confused with Lincoln Square, up northeast by me), the Lonely Planet guidebook starts off by saying that it's the place you would go if you were looking for that long lost sorority sister or fraternity brother. The name Lincoln Park is loaded with implications in Chicago, some of which are captured by that guidebook description.

Home to DePaul University, there is a strong collegiate influence throughout the neighborhood, which is overrun by energetic young adults "omygod"-ing into their cell phones, hunched over their laptops in cafes, or jogging around the neighborhood and into the nearby Lincoln Park itself. The other big contingent is young families, mostly Caucasian. Well-appointed couples behind either designer strollers or the wheels of luxury SUVs on their ways to who knows where, or simply out to see and be seen. There is a considerable affluence to the area, and several big name fashion labels keep active boutiques along Halsted, one of the main thoroughfares. The streets are wide and clean, the shopping and dining options seemingly endless, and the condos start in the mid- to high- six figures.

Lincoln Park is undeniably nice. For me, perhaps a little too nice. There's very little grit to the neighborhood, and not as much diversity, socioeconomically or even racially, as what you get in other parts of the city. With its Home Depots and Chipotles and picture-postcard streets, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was like a swanky suburb transplanted into the middle of the city, if that even make sense.

But enough color commentary. Lincoln Park is a fairly large neighborhood, bounded on the east side by the actual Lincoln Park itself, just beyond which is Lake Michigan. Only about another mile or two south and you're in downtown and the same distance north will get you up to Wrigley. A choice location.

I started by walking the main north-south commercial boulevards, Halsted and Clark, and the same diagonal stretch of Lincoln Avenue that defines Lincoln Square to the northwest ends after it cuts through the Lincoln Park neighborhood.

I may have been unimpressed by the lack of vibrant street life, but it is hard not to be at least a little dazzled by all the shopping and eating that can be done along these streets. I also worked a few side streets, marveling at the handsome brick and stone townhouses and manicured greenspace.

Lincoln Park is also home to Oz Park, dedicated to the memory of Chicago resident L. Frank Baum, author of "The Wizard of Oz". On the north side of the park are some pretty great statues of the Tin Man, The Scarecrow, and Dorothy and Toto, as well as some small sections of yellow brick road, and beautifully landscaped garden that is apparently quite popular with sunbathers. The south side of the park has several ball fields and basketball courts, filled with college-aged athletes working out a little academic malaise.

I had scheduled a haircut at a combination boutique and salon that specializes in cuts for men called, cleverly, Guise, so I worked my way over there after grabbing a bite to eat at a great little cafe called The Bourgeoisie Pig, specializing in Americanized French and Italian light fare, like the tasty Salad Nicoise I ordered for lunch. The salon itself was a pretty great experience (sorry to get your hopes up, Man Mane Maligners, it was a strategic job that kept most of the length and added some bangs and layers to make it a little less neo-hippie Prince Valiant and more urban gentleman. Hair in photo is bizarre looking and finished result is quite different).

After the haircut, I hightailed it over to the actual Lincoln Park park itself, starting with the renowned Lincoln Park Zoo.

For the sake of full disclosure, I have to admit that I have this strange, strong, nearly spiritual connection to the St. Louis Zoo. It's partly a function of having lived so near to it for so long, walking in and around and through it so many times, and also a testament to just how quality of an institution it is. All that to say, the poor Lincoln Park Zoo didn't stand a chance with me. It's a nice facility and I have to give the leadership credit for keeping it free to the public, but I found it to be surprisingly small and most of the exhibits unexceptional. The penguin exhibit especially, usually a favorite of mine, was depressingly cramped and obscured by heavy condensation on the plexiglass.

Far cooler to me was the Conservatory, nearly adjacent to the Zoo and separated from the main Zoo entrance by a beautiful formal garden. The Conservatory houses several rooms with everything from unusual orchids to a vast variety of ferns. Again, this is probably not unlike anything you could see at the Missouri Botanical Gardens, but it was free, and the Conservatory building itself, made up of several different rooms for the various species, was a great place in which to wander and and get lost.

By this point, dinner plans with friends were taking shape, and I was due to start heading home in order to tend to the pooch for a bit before heading out. I left the park behind, saving the discovery of its other greenspaces, beaches, and marinas for another day. The guidebook says that in total, Lincoln Park is about six times bigger than Central Park in New York. That's a lot of "another day"s.

I'm sure that there's a lot to Lincoln Park that I'm just not getting. The nightlife, for one, I am told, is pretty good. And the luxury of quiet, bountiful living in the heart of the city is not something to be summarily dismissed.

As I was talking about my trip with friends at dinner, little things would come up, like "that's where my dentist is" or "I go there just because this one great little shop has this one thing I need". Perhaps moreso than most any other neighborhood I've visited so far, Lincoln Park is vitally connected to the Chicago experience, typifying the city's residential heart (for the north side at least) and setting the standard for how life can be lived. As my own life works its way into the mix, it will be interesting to see how, or if, Lincoln Park can grow on me.

Elevation Makes People Boogie at Navy Pier

2008-07-04T00:14:00.001-07:00

The guy with the cup on his head started out as a crowd favorite. Then he started getting more drunk and sloppy, knocking in to people while dancing, spilling his cup on bystanders, and even making an unsolicited appearance on stage.

Later, I asked him to be please be respectful, and he was too drunk to even talk back, but got offended, and then plain beligerent. It's the closest I've come to a fight in many years, and after a crap week at work, was feeling surprisingly game.

Elevation-Sunday Bloody Sunday

2008-07-04T00:13:00.001-07:00

Maybe not the most sophisticated crowd in the music biz, but some darned big U2 fans.

Don't bother asking who that is singing in the background. No comment.

Fireworks over Lake Michigan and Grant Park

2008-07-04T00:10:00.001-07:00

Notice the nifty pop music in the background. Perfectly edited little clips of popular, singable songs. Added a fun touch and a nice alternative to the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

A Beautiful Day

2008-07-03T23:00:00.000-07:00

Many of you know that July 4th is one of my least favorite holidays to celebrate. It has nothing to do with the meaning of the holiday, and everything to do with the fact that I associate it most with heat, crowds, and loud noises. Things in and of themselves okay, but together I find them unbearable.

So, when my friend, Redd, invited me to join her on Navy Pier to hear a U2 cover band called Elevation and watch the July 3rd fireworks over Lake Michigan (for whatever reason, fireworks on the 3rd, not the 4th, are the big deal), my first instinct was to take a pass.

However, Redd is not one to be easily dismissed. This is a woman whose every email signs of with "live your life with arms wide open". She cajoled me into not only joining her, but even taking my car to her place in Old Town.

Did I mention that it is estimated that 1,000,000 people (that's ONE MILLION, people!) come in town on July 3rd for these fireworks? Drive my car in that? I must be crazy.

But Redd suggested a side street, Elston, which runs at a diagonal down to Old Town, mirroring the highway, and so I started out. I made it down reasonable time, amazingly avoiding all of the crush, and even found a parking spot right on her block.

Redd is also smart enough to know that the city runs a free trolley system from the El to Navy Pier, so we hopped onboard and made our way to the Beer Garden at the end of the pier, where the band was playing.

Elevation is a lot of fun. The lead singer looks rather alarmingly like Bono (he apparently calls himself Dan-o), and even sounds like him. The best bit was that he does all of the goofy stage theatrics Bono is known for, bringing women on stage and flitting about generally like some elastic-spined zealot, with message t-shirts, cowboy hats, and bug-eyed sunglasses. Redd has a serious thing for the band's fake-Edge. I kept goading her to go shake her moneymaker in front of him, an easy enough task with the small crowd we were in, but she would giggle and then sing along to the band for a bit.

They played a little bit of everything, both old and new, and worked some especially great versions of "One", "Pride", and a closing "Where the Streets Have No Name". They were big on audience participation, and it was a lot of fun to sing along to some of my favorites.

About 80 minutes into their set, they shut things down for the fireworks. As I mentioned earlier, we were at the end of Navy Pier, which is pretty removed from downtown, and especially Grant Park, where the fireworks are centered. This meant that we had fantastic views of the show, but were fairly well removed from 1) the crowds, and 2) the noise. As for 3) the heat, the predicted high tonight was 68 with clear skies. It was well under that. And to top it all off, it technically wasn't even the 4th. How could I complain?

As soon as the fireworks ended, Elevation picked it back up and played for close to another two hours. By the time they finished this second set, most of the crowds had cleared out, and I ended up making it home, via a tram ride, a short El ride, and a drive, in under an hour from Navy Pier. I even found a parking spot next to my apartment building, on the non-through street, when I got home. Best. 4th. Ever.

You Don't Seiche!

2008-07-02T18:32:00.000-07:00

Learn something new every day.

Today, Chicago's beaches were closed under the threat of the formation of seiche (pronounced SAYsh).

I hadn't heard of it before, either.

Turns out, it's sort of like a mini-tsunami, a massive redistribution of water on the lake caused by winds. It can cause swells that can knock people over pretty easily and create dangerous undertows.

I have to give props to the Chicago Tribue editor who came up with this title for the story:

"Chicago sees seiche swells by city shore".

Oh, and there's a new post at the Frugal Traveler today. Cyprus! Revolution! Hitchhiking! Link is to the right.

10.25%

2008-07-01T19:29:00.001-07:00

As of today, Chicago has the highest sales tax in the nation, beating even LA and New York with a staggering $1.025 worth of tax for every $10 spent (thanks for the edit, j).

In honor of that, here are some other notable 10.25's:

*The Monetary Policy Rate of the Bank of Nigeria is 10.25%
*RH Forschner by Victorinox makes a 10.25 inch blade bread knife.
*igourmet makes a 10.25 oz bottle of Mojito glaze for $11.99 (that's $13.22, with tax, if purchased in Cook County)

The Chicago Tribune has more information here.

Video Bar Updated!

2008-06-30T19:28:00.000-07:00

Now featuring random selections about Chicago 2016, Wall-E, and Cubs Vs. Sox.

Enjoy!

The Official Olympic Bid Video

2008-06-30T19:11:00.001-07:00

Narrated by the grumbly bearded guy from CSI!

Cool images of various local landmarks. And the last little vignette made me a little teary-eyed.

Olympic Glory or Olympic Gory?

2008-06-30T19:03:00.001-07:00

Chicago is making a bid to host the Olympics in 2016, and there's been quite a bit of buzz lately, as they made it into the top 4 finalists recently, along with Rio de Janerio, Tokyo, and Madrid.

It has been an interesting introduction into Chicago politics, which really are their own entertainment. My impression is that this is the pet project of Mayor Daley, and he's just pulling along everyone else for the ride. It was interesting that even at Taste of Chicago this weekend the most conspicuous presence was that of Chicago 2016 T-shirt clad volunteers handing out stickers with the proposed logo.

Those I have spoken to about it seem pretty divided. The younger, the more excited they seem to be about the idea, whereas older folk are already convinced it's little more than a massive expense and a huge potential drain on the city's infastructure, especially transportation (which is bad enough already).

I have no idea if this is a legit copy of the bid video submitted to the committee (my guess is not), but it has some cool footage of the proposed staduim and other sites. It seems to match what I have read so far in the papers.

Regardless of whether or not Chicago "deserves" it (apparently, the real question is whether or not the US "deserves" it), it is pretty cool think about having the Olympics in the midwest. Imagine the opportunities it could present for kids from Missouri, Indiana, Iowa, and Wisconsin to get to see a world-class event, just a few hours away.

I think St. Louis should make a bid. Good sports town, needs the shot in the arm, and goodness knows there's enough under-used real estate downtown to re-purpose.

Pannakoeken Cafe

2008-06-29T16:23:00.001-07:00

The nice thing about having foodie friends come in town is their enthusiasm for trying new places. The Lord and Lady made their way north with me after a church service downtown, and I convinced them to try a Dutch pancake house in Lincoln Square, the Pannakoeken Cafe.

Dutch pancakes are just a tad thinner than a crepe. The Pannakoeken Cafe tops them with a variety of both sweet and savory ingredients. For example, Lady got hers with salami, mushrooms, and Havarti cheese, and Lord Maplewood got his with bananas, strawberries, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream. I was craving a split between the two, so I ordered mine with ham, pineapple, and Havarti.

The food was fantastic. The pancakes were rich and buttery with crisp edges and the toppings were incredibly fresh. It was worth it alone for the creamy goodness of that cheese. We were all very satisfied, although Lady took me to task for backing out of my promise to cook for them while they were in town.

I turned it around on them and made them promise to come visit again!

The Payoff for Waiting

2008-06-28T21:19:00.001-07:00

Millenium Mania

2008-06-28T21:17:00.001-07:00

2008-06-28T21:14:00.001-07:00

After finishing up at Taste of Chicago, we made our way over to Millenium Park, one of my favorite downtown attractions.
At the area known as Crown Fountain, we spent some time watching the kids splashing around in the shallow water and going crazy in anticipation of the big video images opening up their lips to spit out their fountain of cool water. It was like waiting for Santa, these kids were buzzing with energy.

The Taste

2008-06-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

I had my first friends come in town to visit this weekend. Lord and Lady Maplewood came in town with their son, Squire, to go to Taste of Chicago. It has been great to see some familiar faces, and we really enjoyed the festival.

On the ride home, I tallied up all the dishes we sampled between the three of us, 16 in total! Don't worry, it was split between lunch and dinner. We didn't employ much strategy, so we kept flipping between savory entree, dessert, appetizer, dessert, entree, appetizer, etc. Thankfully, I managed to avoid any indigestion.

Here's my tip for ToC: go for lunch. The crowds at suppertime where CRAZY! Apparently, Stevie Wonder was playing on the mainstage. Who knew he could still draw such a crowd?

There were 64 restaurants represented, everything from African (goat meat stew!) to deep dish pizza. I tended focus more on local Chicago flavors: Italian beef, Italian ices, Ely's cheesecake. I tried to throw in a few exotic flavors, including shark, to make things interesting.

Here's a list of all the food we tried: beer-battered artichokes; chorizo and cheese breakfust puff; Italian beef sandwhich; loukaniko greek sausage (see above); frozen chocolate chip toffee crunch cheesecake on a stick; plain cheesecake; fresh pineapple seafood salad; gazpacho with avocado and chopped chives; grilled veggie chopped salad; chocolate mousse; lemon and mango italian ice; skewered shark veracruz; Italian breaded steak sandwhich; Taiwan shining noodles; vegetable tempura; and mango cumin-dusted fries with chutney.

Urban Beauty

2008-06-28T08:00:00.001-07:00

I was downtown last Friday for an audition and to stop by City Hall to get Atlas' pet license.

I was having a good day, so I took a little detour to spend some time around the river. I really love the architecture of Chicago, and especially these bridges. I love the graceful sweeps of the arches, and the heavy rivets, and the handsome stonework on the towers or keephouses at each end.

They have used Chicago as a style reference for the new Batman movies, even filming some exterior scenework here. They have been showing Batman Begins all over TV for the past couple of weeks, and you can really see it, especially in scenes set in or around the train system or The Narrows, where the prison was located.

2008-06-28T07:46:00.001-07:00

This is where I usually fill my gas tank each week. It is called The Des Plaines Oasis, and it actually spans over the tollway I take to work each morning. It consists of the building you see in the picture and a pair of matching gas stations on either end.

I like to stop at the Oasis for a couple of reasons. First of all, who doesn't like the idea of saying, "I stopped at the Oasis for a cup of coffee"?

Secondly, it is pretty quick. The whole point of the Oasis is that you never leave the tollway, so it's just a ramp in and a ramp out. No turns, no lights, just drive on through.

Lastly, it is the first gas station I come across outside of the city boundaries. This means the prices are about 20 cents cheaper per gallon than my nearest station at home. Still not a bargain at 4.21/gallon, but I will take what I can get.

The building houses a McDonalds, a Panda Express, a Starbucks, and I think some sort of mini Nissan dealership. How that last one is at all practical I still haven't figured out (don't you need a car to get onto the tollway in the first place?) but the parking lot is usually pretty busy. It seems that Starbucks usually has the longest line.

WALL-E - FINAL Trailer TRUE-HD

2008-06-28T06:13:00.001-07:00

What Does a Midwest Scotsman Know That Roger Ebert Doesn't?

2008-06-27T20:52:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who gives me grief because I read movie reviews. It drives me crazy because otherwise he's a fairly intelligent, aesthetically-enlightened guy. He can read Hebrew, play the bagpipes, and program HTML. What's so difficult about appreciating film criticism?

I have been ill-equipped to reply to his objection that reading reviews keeps me from forming my own opinion about a film, tending to defer to the idea that reading a wide variety of reviews helps me to figure out if a film is generally worth seeing, and, in the end, a frugal investment of my entertainment dollar. That rarely ever satisfied either of us, but I haven't made the time to figure out what else I wanted to say.

Then, this week, I was reading an article about some journalism awards being handed out in LA, and one of them was for LA Times book critic, Tim Rutten, being recognized for his work this past year. A single line from the judges comments jumped out at me and helped me find the words I was missing for my own defense:

"Rutten’s reviews offered style, wit and insights into both substance and form, drawing readers to books they otherwise might not have considered."

Seems pretty innocuous I know, and you would think, with a theater degree from a liberal arts school, that I would have a stronger grasp on the value of literary criticism, but we sometimes lose ourselves a bit don't we?

Some movie reviews are crap. I would say most are crap. Writers trying to show off their brainbanks or verbal dexterity. Editors trying to fill copy. To make things more difficult, most movies are crap, made more for commerce than craft. Not inspirational enough to even inspire text.

But a pairing of a fine film with a thoughtful critic can open up wonderful new worlds. I read reviews for mentions of good performances that might point toward the fierce energy of the human experience. I scour them looking for an invitation to explore new landscapes, perhaps imaginary, although the older I get, the closer to hard clay I find I want to be. I read for the hope of introductions, to new ideas, new images, uncovered histories, undreamed fantasies that I would not likely encounter in my own mundane living. My own eyes can only see so far, my own arms can only grab so much, and my own feet can only carry me so long. Good films expand all those boundaries, and good film reviews have the ability to draw me exploration, or give warning that there's nothing there that hasn't been seen before.

What inspired all of this? The new Disney/Pixar movie Wall-E opened today, and I have rarely seen such universal praise from critics. Moreso, however, is that most of what I read points to the idea that there might be something in this movie that is transcendent, both in terms of the artistry of the filmmaking AND the ideas it explores. How often do we get to experience that? And even if all this critical praise inflates expectations too high, isn't there still even a scrap of comfort in BELIEVING in or HOPING for something beautiful? Wouldn't you rather know and hold on to that, then waste your time on something that offers considerably less?

NYTimes.com - Frugal Traveler: The Grand Tour

2008-06-27T20:43:00.001-07:00

It turns out The Frugal Traveler has added a little video feature to his work this summer.

This is the first webisode, which basically sets up the convention of his trip. Nothing groundbreaking. Watch at your own risk, I think actually seeing the guy spoils some of the mystique.

He has nice teeth, though!

Crosstown Classic: Yep, They Take It THAT Seriously

2008-06-27T19:47:00.000-07:00

Desktop Destinations

2008-06-26T21:20:00.000-07:00

Today at the office, I was trying to sell a colleague on the excellent work of New York Times travel writer, Matt Gross. This is my third summer following Matt as zips around an amazing amount of territory in a relatively short period on a miniscule amount of money. The blog detailing his journey, The Frugal Traveler, has a sidebar this year, breaking down his daily budget. My coworker was incredulous at the amount set aside for nightlife: $1.86. A fairly well-traveled guy himself, he couldn't believe it could be done. I asked him to suspend his belief and read on.

Gross' trick is that he knows that the key to good entertainment (and travel overall) isn't how much you spend, but who you meet while doing it. He spends time with people, learns their stories, and wouldn't you know it, in the end he usually gets a round of drinks or a free night on a couch.

After last summer's trip driving through the US in an old Volvo he bought (and later resold) on Craigslist, he's returned to Europe. He's gone a little highbrow with his inspiration, following the routes known collectively as The Grand Tour which, up to about 100 years ago, meant a route through the southern half of the continent that young, monied gentry took as a part of their finishing experience between school and the world of work. The twist is that Gross is doing it now, in the internet age, when class barriers are a little more permeable, travel is much more egalitarian, and, instead of a family fortune to blow on a villa in Florence, he has a daily lodging budget of $42.02.

If you, like me, feel the need for the occasional 10-minute mental vacation, I cannot recommend his blog highly enough. Yes, I love the gorgeous photos, and the descriptions of all the food and magnificent sights. But it's how he unearths the stories of the real, common, workaday people he meets, and incorporates that into his understanding of those marvelous things he's seeing and eating that makes his writing something special. Last summer, he helped me fall in love with America all over again. This summer, he's teaching me to fall in love with the simple act of discovery.

Extreme Makeunder: ChicagoBlogo Edition

2008-06-26T20:33:00.000-07:00

As you can see, I've changed things around a bit. New color scheme, simplified format. Felt like it was time for a change. I think the darker background will do photos a little more justice, too.

Inspired by some blogging friends in Savannah, I've added some features to the layout: a news ticker for Chicago-specific happenings, YouTube video feed for stuff I find amusing and want to share (check out the Catherine Tate clips and news bloopers, guaranteed to lift the mood after a couple of hours spent in rush hour). Thinking of adding a few links, and maybe a way to post rotating items, like a new recipe or calendar of events. I've also simplified the name to "Chiblogo", although the URL will stay the same.

And there's a photo now, from the infamous lightsaber photo shoot.

I'm also going to try to post more frequently, with more "lifestyle" stuff, like things I'm reading, pop culture items, trends, current events, etc. The goal is to try not to be too obscure, nor too frivilous, but just feed the brain a little and, honestly, flex my writing skills. Let me know if you have any particular areas of interest you'd like to explore.

Jennawatch Update

2008-06-20T20:58:00.001-07:00

Jenna DID attend the play tonight. She sat one row in front of us and two seats down.

We DID NOT get to meet her. She was mobbed by old acquaintences as soon as the show ended. Originally, the whole group was going to go to a pub after the show, but the plans changed to a house party hosted by someone I didn't know. Would have been awkward, so we bailed.

But we were in close vicinity for some time. Close enough that it would have been weird and a little too obvious to grab a cell phone pic.

We both agree that even though she is lovely and seems very nice, our lives do not feel significantly different.

The Gentleman Lodger

2008-06-20T15:22:00.000-07:00

For a little more than a month, it has just been me and the pooch and the Fire Alarm Lady (who has been thankfully quiet lately). It's been nice, and I had originally thought I would just keep the second bedroom open for the summer, but things have worked out otherwise.

Meet JR. That's not what he's really called, but I feel weird using real names on a public blog, so just go with me.

I met JR my first day of improv class, and after a couple of weeks he has decided that I am not a serial killer and agreed to rent the second bedroom for the summer. He would like to move up to Chicago full time after that, but it all depends on whether or not he can find a job. He currently works in eduation, so he has a couple of months to rassle something up.

JR is originally from Belleville, IL, so we can talk St. Louis stuff. He likes the theater, movies, TV, comics, and other imagination-y stuff, so we get to talk about that, too. He has worked with at-risk teens, so I think it means he's a good guy. He likes Chinese food and sushi and has experience with pug puppies, so he's not (too) intimdated by the pooch.

Here's a little Q&A so you can get to know him too:

AA: So, JR, do you have any immediate plans to murder me in my sleep or steal any of my stuff?

JR: (long pause), no but I did drop your toothbrush in the toilet.

AA: That's okay, because my dog has peed on your bed. Next question: Why are you moving to Chicago this summer?

JR: Second City, I hope to get as involved as possible and be able to stay up here to keep doing it.

AA: What's the farthest you have ever traveled from home?

JR: Which is farther, Florida or Texas? I love Florida and hate Texas. I really hate Georgia (ed. note: Savannah crew, try not to judge too soon).

AA: Toilet paper: against the wall, or over the top?

JR: Over the top. I can't stand it the other way.

AA: Me, too! [collective sigh of relief] Did you get some of that Orange Chicken left over from lunch?

JR: Yeah, it's good.

AA: I know. Yum-o! Well, I think that covers the basics. Any questions for me?

JR: When do I get to meet Jenna Fischer (ed. note: from TV's "The Office", she graduated from the same theater program I did and knows some of my Chicago theater friends)?

AA: I'm working on it. Word on the street is that she might come to the play we're seeing tonight.

JR: Really?

AA: Maybe. Just don't get your hopes up. And if she IS there, no drooling.

JR: [falls out of chair, blissed out grin on his face]

AA: Theater people! So dramatic!

Scary or Sassy?

2008-06-20T14:59:00.001-07:00

I needed to have a headshot for a Second City thing today. I hadn't pursued professional ones yet because I am unsure about how long I want to commit to The Man Mane. So I invited a few creative friends over and plied them with pesto pasta and Framboise and we ended up with the above, which I printed on a black background with white text.

I posted it almost immediately on Facebook, where reaction has varied from frightening to fantastic. What do YOU think?

I am not dead.

2008-06-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the gap in postings. Things have been a little hectic and, frankly, I have been feeling a little under the weather and down. Nothing big, just life catching up to me.

So, a lot has happened. Let's start with the picture. Last Saturday, a met up with a friend at Midsomerfest in the Swedish neighborhood of Andersonville.

(sidenote: so far I have been to Mayfest the first weekend in June and Midsomerfest before the solstice. What's up with that, Chicago?)

The fest was nice. Thankfully, less crowded than Mayfest. Andersonville is a cool little neighborhood with some awesome little bakeries and restaurants. They take their Swedish heritage pretty seriously, so I had hoped for some clogging and lutekfisk sampling. Instead, it appears that the affluent gay and lesbian population that has moved in during recent years has exerted a strong influence, so we got Saab demonstrations and contempoary Scandanavian homegoods. Which isn't a bad thing. I like me some $400 salad tongs as much as the next guy, I was just hoping for something a little more traditional.

By far the most popular attraction was the 80's cover band that played at one end of the street. They really played it up, with big hair wigs, torn t-shirts, spandex pants, the whole nine yards. The crowd was eating it up, singing and dancing along as the jammed out to hits from Journey, Van Halen, Guns N Roses, Heart, and a lot of others. It was fun to see so many people just cutting loose and being silly.

As things shut down for the night, my friend and I made our way over a block to a place I had been wanting to try since moving here: the Hopleaf Bar. The Hopleaf has some obscene number of beers available, but they specialize in Belgians. Now I know this may be something of a sore subject given recent business announcements, but after visiting Rolbo and Liesie last fall, I am a big fan of Belgian beers. So I ordered up a Kriek (served in a wine-sized bottle! For 12 bucks!) and some mussels, and worked off some workweek blues.

Sounds good, sounds great.

2008-06-06T22:52:00.001-07:00

A night of live music was the perfect prescription after a week of work. The bands seemed to get increasingly interesting and skillful as the night went on. My favorite was a group called The August, fronted by a beautiful blonde in a mini dress who had this fantastic smoky, soulful voice. She was backed by a great jam band, including a white guy with dreadlocks and a serious case of happy feet.

My other favorite was the ride home on the El. Who is out at 12:45 on a Friday night? A young couple, fighting over which place to go next. A pair of siblings, speaking some hodgepodge of French and English. Two old girlfriends, topping off a night out, away from their kids, who still manage to be the topic of conversation. A greasy haired young guy, looking seriously agitated, until he gets a text on his phone, which breaks a wide grin on his face. A too-old-to-be-out-this-late transplant from a smaller Midwestern city, tapping away on his phone, trying to fight off exhaustion and restrain his full bladder.

2008-06-06T18:55:00.001-07:00

Another old Truman theater connection came through this week. Jen is officially an academic, finishing her Ph.D. in Ohio this past year and getting ready to move her family out to Oregon in September.

Over the past year, she's written a play based on the writings of Anne Morrow Lindbergh, wife to the famous aviator Charles Lindbergh. Through some connections, she has arranged to have it premiere here this week, so she came in to town with her husband and have been working on bringing it to life over the past few days.

On a whim, I offered to help her pull together some publicity for the show, so my spare time this week was largely spent writing and sending press releases, calling media outlets and trying to harangue editors into checking out the show, and organizing an opening night afterparty to try to bring some attention. It has been a lot of fun, working my one or two connections and learning more about the way the theater scene works here.

The opening was last night, and the show was good. The afterparty was more subdued than I hoped, but I met some interesting people and had fun catching up with others. Sorry, no pictures of the set this time. I was so caught up in my role of PR guru that I forgot.

Tonight, I am off to catch some live music at the Metro, which I am told is one of the best venues in the city. It's two blocks up from Wrigley, which should be cool to see at night.

Looking forward to a quick trip home for the weekend, even if it is painfully short (Saturday night through Monday).

On a related note: can you believe gas prices? Crazy!

Mayfest at Lincoln Square

2008-05-31T20:04:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-05-31T19:58:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-31T19:56:00.000-07:00

Leiderhosen in der beirgarten.

2008-05-31T19:54:00.003-07:00

A polka band that played "La Bamba".

2008-05-31T19:54:00.001-07:00

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

Second City, Second Chances?

2008-05-31T15:17:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-05-29T08:43:00.002-07:00

2008-05-29T08:43:00.001-07:00

Avenue Lewd

2008-05-29T08:40:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-05-26T19:26:00.001-07:00

Inside the Davis Theater.

2008-05-26T19:24:00.001-07:00

The old-fashioned marquee at the Davis.

Neighborhood Field Trip: Lincoln Square

2008-05-26T19:22:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-05-26T18:37:00.001-07:00

"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.