139. WRIGLEY FIELD

Chicago, Illinois

7/24/2015

Our last day in Chicago, and my conference ended at 1 o’clock – a perfect time for Laura and I to swing over to see the Chicago Cubs play at Wrigley Field, America’s second-oldest ballpark and one of the most beloved among baseball aficionados. Laura came to pick me up again [Seriously took me 45 minutes to get there for a 10 minute trip!] and we headed over to the field. There’s no parking at the field itself, so I pre-bought a parking spot through a site called ParkWhiz (sounds legit). The directions included “turn left down the alley behind the brick building.” (What could possibly go wrong?) Before you judge me too harshly, parking lots can charge up to $45 around the field (more than a ticket), so I was willing to check out the alley since it was only $10. It was actually a fairly high-tech affair, since I bought a spot from the hours of 2pm – 6pm, printed out a paper that had one of those barcode scanner things on it and stuck it in the window. They were very emphatic that you would be towed if you overstayed your time, so I figured that gave us enough time to see the majority of the game and get on the road and home at a reasonable time. Like I said before, what could possibly go wrong?

The alley was about a fifteen-minute walk to the field, so we saw a nice chunk of “Wrigleyville”, the nickname for the area around the park where vendors are desperately trying to sell you baseball caps and bottles of water. We made it to the park, and boy, was it packed. On the way to our seats I was slightly behind Laura. A man stepped in front of me for a moment, and I lost her. It took us about ten minutes to find each other again. As mentioned above, Wrigley Field is older (it celebrated its centennial last year) and although it has been updated over the years, part of the charm is supposed to be its intimacy in comparison to some of the more modern ballparks. Still, I can’t imagine how we could have gotten the kids around here.

We did make it to our seats, or so we thought. About halfway through the game a large group arrived, and apparently we were in two of their seats. I’ll admit we were kind of confused by the layout of the seats. We moved.

The game was fun. As we’ve said before, we’re not big sports people, but the ambience of the park made for a nice, relaxing time.

We didn’t stay until the end of the game, since we had a long drive ahead of us, and I was intensely paranoid about getting back to the car before our parking expired.

We walked down to the correct street, but the alley was nowhere to be found. It dawned on me soon enough that this was another one of those crazy Chicago streets that you can’t just walk down, following the numbers until you get to the one you want. We kept going back to the ballpark to start over, but it has multiple entrances, so after a few tries we were so disoriented we couldn’t tell which way to go anymore. All the streets looked the same to us, and they all had kiosks with guys selling the hats and waters and were lined with all-similarly-named sports bars. We wandered around for about 45 minutes. By then, the game had ended and people were exiting the park. Now, I started to get really worried, because 6 o’clock was approaching. We only had 15 more minutes and I had no clue where to go. And Laura couldn’t just flag down one of her firemen and say, “I’m looking for some random alley.”

Desperate, I went up to a trio of cool-looking dudes outside one of the sports bars. One of them had a Smartphone (I’ve resisted getting one, but this experience is making me see the benefits) and with his help we were able to figure out how to get back. His two buddies were mad he was helping us and kept making snide comments, but the guy who helped was a true Good Samaritan. Of course, now we had less than 15 minutes. I decided to run on ahead to get to the car. Laura was unimpressed.  [It was more like a slow jog than a run, but okay.]

I made it to the alley! When I got in there, there was a parking attendant sitting in a truck. I got in the car and turned on the engine. The dashboard clock read exactly 6:00. “You’re not going to tow me today, parking lot alley guy!” I said to no one in particular. Yeah, I sort of left my wife on the streets of Chicago right outside these bars with drunken baseball fans stumbling about. I’m not sure if I’m getting an anniversary card this year. [You are not.]

I thought I would make a desperate attempt at chivalry and go pick Laura up, so she didn’t have to walk all the way to the alley. This was a bad idea. Just going around the corner in Chicago at 6 o’clock takes about 10 minutes. Plus, people honk at you a lot and you nearly run over every pedestrian you see. Well, that was my experience anyway. I cut my losses and made it back to the alley. By the time I got back, apparently Laura had already been there and discovered that the car and I were nowhere to be seen. She left to find me. I decided it was best to stop moving, and just waited in the alley entrance, hoping no one would try to get in or out. Before long I saw Laura appear over the horizon – and by “horizon” I mean “dirty L-train station.” With that, she hopped in the car and we drove off into the sunset. And by “sunset” I mean “rush-hour Chicago traffic,” which is a story best left unwritten. [We will not speak of this incident ever again.] 

Oh, yeah, I forgot. The Cubs won.

138. RAVINIA FESTIVAL

Highland Park, Illinois

7/23/2015

Classical music became the inadvertent theme of this trip. Ravinia Park is the site of North America’s oldest outdoor music festival (it’s been running since 1904), located about a half-hour north of Chicago. Patricia recommends taking the Metra train (this is different from the L-train), but when I looked into it, it was weirdly cost prohibitive. A round-trip would have cost us around $16 per person. This is one of those rare circumstances in the Chicago area where it’s actually cheaper to drive. So, things were a little different today, since poor Laura had to brave the Chicago traffic and pick me up after my conference. When she arrived she looked decidedly harried, but I had a foolproof plan to soothe her road-rage. [I hate driving in Chicago.  They’re all insane, and out to kill you.  The taxi drivers are the worse.  They honk at you even when you can’t do anything about it.  It was a fifteen minute long drive, but it seemed like 2,000 years.]

You see, Laura doesn’t watch a lot of TV, but she loves cooking shows. [Yaaaahhhhhhhhh] Her absolute favorite is Iron Chef, and the king of the lot is the original Iron Chef, Masaharo Morimoto. [Yaaaahhhhhh] She loves this guy.  [Yahhhhhhhhh!!!!] One I day I will come home to find a note saying, “I have left you for Morimoto” and I won’t be surprised. [That could possibly happen one day.] She’s even got the kids in on these chefs. I figure most 5-year olds argue over whether Batman could beat up Superman – mine fight over whether Bobby Flay or Simon Mujumdar are better chefs. It’s cute, but there’s a dark side. You haven’t seen maternal rage like the time Daniel complained his fish at dinner “needed more seasoning.”  [I think I screamed something like, “Why don’t you ungrateful lot just ask Morimoto or Symon to cook for you, and see what they have to say about that!”

What does this have to do with anything? Oh yeah. Well, Morimoto only has ten restaurants in the world and one of them is in Chicago. The only reason I know that is because when we got lost the night before we happened to pass by it. (See, there are benefits to me not knowing where I’m going – or so I keep telling myself.) It turns out the menu is actually fairly reasonably priced, and after a quick phone call we had reservations for a couple of hours before we had to be at Ravinia.

It really was worth the hype. We split a couple of appetizers, sushi, and these artsy-looking desserts – all very unique concoctions.

Laura thought she would freak out the waiter by gushing about Morimoto, but the waiter said he really is an amazing guy and he does come to the restaurant about once every 4 to 6 weeks to teach them new things. So I guess he takes pride in what they are doing and doesn’t just slap his name on the door. Regardless, you can’t put a price tag on this smile…[Oh yeah.  I cry just thinking about it again.]

Laura, are you feeling alright? [I don’t understand why you said I had to stop kissing the menu.]

Ok… Now we’re getting creepy. [What, you were pretending to eat Charlie Trotter’s food pictures……]

Moving on we made our way up to the festival. It was fairly easy to get to in a pretty and affluent suburb. We knew we were getting close because of all the signs outside people’s houses: “No Ravinia Parking.” They’ve been doing this for a hundred years. Some people must be pretty sick of it. When we got to the actual parking lot, we paid our $10 and then were led to bored-looking teenagers orchestrating traffic. No doubt, this is the obligatory summer job for the kids who live here. One of the kids started yelling at a driver who got a little too close. “I’ve been hit three times this year!” When we got out of our car we saw one of the parking ticket guys running through the field. He started shouting at someone: “Hey! You only gave her $7, instead of $10. You owe us $3!” The accused forked over the money.

We made it to the main gate, which forms a barrier surrounding the park, keeping non-ticket holders out. No freebies here, folks. Patrons of the arts only.

 From there we had to pass through security. Seriously. There were security guys that pulled everything out of Laura’s bag. This was an orchestra concert of classic Russian composers. What kind of people do they think are going to come to this thing? [Be careful handling that pair of sunglasses.  You never know when it’s going to spring into action and blow everyone up.]

Inside the wall, Ravinia Park is technically a park, but it’s kind of strange because it’s enclosed by a wall that has a restaurant, gift shops, ice cream sellers, etc. built into it. There are some modern art sculptures sprinkled about, also.  [I bought an ice cream cone, mostly because that’s my way of supporting the locals, and promptly fell into a comatose state. I was having difficulty staying awake for the concert.  It just wasn’t very entertaining.]

We had lawn tickets, and smartly brought our own folding chairs. Before the concert started it was unclear to me where the orchestra would be. The performers were in a depressed orchestra pit, so we couldn’t see them. They had a closed-circuit camera projecting the musicians on a screen. So it basically felt like we had bought a ticket to watch these guys on TV. All the while about a dozen of the security guards walked rapidly back and forth through the crowd. Several held big signs that said, “Quiet please. Your neighbors are trying to listen.”  [Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.]

I have to say the orchestra was excellent, but the atmosphere did dampen the experience. Maybe because it was so easy to compare the concert with the one the night before we didn’t give it a fair shot. I don’t know. At Grant Park, there was a definite sense that the people involved knew why they were doing it. Ravinia has been going on for 5 generations – I couldn’t figure out why.

RETURN TRIP - MILLENNIUM PARK

Chicago, Illinois

7/22/2015

After the concert, our walk to the L-train brought us straight to “The Bean” for the obligatory “Take your picture in the reflection, but no one can tell it’s you because the flash is too bright” shot.

Gotta touch your own finger, too.

Yeah! That’s the stuff!

137. MUSIC IN GRANT PARK

Chicago, Illinois

7/22/2015

Patricia assured us that the Illinois Supreme Court ruled in 1910 that the 319-acre Grant Park was to remain “forever open, free and clear of any… obstructions.” Music festivals run throughout the year in open-air pavilions, and admission is to be free for all. So, I was surprised when I went on the Grant Park Music Festival website and found a link to buy tickets – very expensive tickets. I bought the low-end of low-end tickets (which still set us back $50 – it was the most expensive part of our trip), but I gambled that since “Music in Grant Park” is also included in Patricia’s “1000 Places to See in the WORLD” book, it might be worth it. The book emphasizes jazz and blues concerts, but the performance for the evening we were in town was classical music performed by the Grant Park Orchestra, which seems to be a super-group of classical musicians from various orchestras around the world who get together for 10 weeks out of the summer.

Laura had her adventures while I worked. [I decided to hit three used bookstores, in different parts of Chicago.  It sounds easy, right?  But I decided to walk, instead of taking the L train anywhere, so it was a much longer adventure than I anticipated.  The first two bookstores were easy to reach, but the third had moved, and was quite a distance across the river.  I got lost a couple times, because everyone I asked seemed mystified on how to get there.  I was going to give up, but I’m glad that I didn’t.  The “Open Books” store is a non-profit organization designed to encourage literacy in schools.  I was happy to buy a few books there, knowing that the money was going for a good cause.  However, since it had taken me about 45 minutes to get there, I was loathed to take the hike back.  However, a young woman who volunteers there offered to walk me back to the L train so that I could get back to the Chicago stop to meet up with Oliver.  She was so nice, and I was grateful for her help.  So overall, it was a great end to my day, and I met a lot of nice people!]  She met me at 4:00 again, and we took another leisurely walk down the shoreline.  [Although, since I had just walked five hours with only a few breaks, I wasn’t too keen on walking some more.] This time we headed south along the coast, so we would make it to Grant Park with time to spare while enjoying the lakeside view. We stopped for a few minutes to watch the fortunate few in the Chicago Yacht Club putter about in the water. We had to cross a bridge at one point, which we shared with piled-up traffic and homicidal cyclists. One guy pointed at me and yelled out, “Hey! I like that guy’s hat!” [I want a boat.]

When we reached the Jay Pritzker Pavilion (the location of the concert) all my cheap genes began to cry out in rage. Dozens of people were lying on blankets on the lawn. The concert was free after all. Signs declaring the perpetual freeness of everything were put up in order to taunt me. What one can pay for is the opportunity to sit in chairs up front. So, we sat in the darned chairs. [He was so angry it was amusing.  I liked sitting in the chairs.  I was tired.]

When the concert began, a member of the Grant Park Music Board came out and emphasized how their vow to keep the festivals free is only possible because of patrons who give money to offset the cost. For the rest of the night, Laura kept calling me a “patron of the arts”, so I stopped complaining. Looking around, everyone else in the audience was about 20-40 years older than us. They didn’t have to pay either, but they were giving of themselves so others less fortunate could enjoy too. It’s a worthy cause. I’m glad now we contributed. [It did go to a good cause, so shut up.]

The concert was enjoyable. The emphasis was on modern classical music, and it was fairly eclectic. There were two arias from a new opera called Doubt, based on the controversial novel and film of the same name. The composer was in the audience, so he came up to take a bow and say a few words. The orchestra and two local singers also performed a forgotten one-act comedic opera from the 1940s called The Telephone: the premise of which was a young man trying to propose to his girlfriend, but he can’t get a word in since the girlfriend is constantly answering the phone. It was quite funny, and surprisingly prescient considering the cellphone culture of today. They finished the concert with a piece by Samuel Barber, for a touch of the mainstream.

The concert was really well put-together, with new music, a forgotten gem, and something classic. Sitting with the other “patrons” I could tell they had a genuine love of the music and were serious about exposing their city to some culture, but not in a snooty way.

When we were leaving, one of the old guys started talking to me. “I used to wear ties like that. You know why I stopped? I went into a Radio Shack and the salesman said, ‘I know why you’re here. You need batteries for that tie!’” It’s cool. We patrons of the arts razz each other like that.  [That’s going to be you in 50 years!]

136. CHICAGO'S COMEDY SCENE

Chicago, Illinois

7/21/2015

One thing Chicago is known for is its pedigree of famous comedians – careers began here for luminaries as diverse as Jack Benny, Bob Newhart, Joan Rivers, John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Bill Murray, Chris Farley, Stephen Colbert, Tina Fey… the list goes on. Chicago’s signature style is improv – which several of these comedians brought into the popular American consciousness with their later contributions to Saturday Night Live. The most famous of these improv troupes is the purposefully self-depreciatingly named Second City. However, we chose to get tickets to the equally acclaimed iO (the odd name stands for Improv Olympic). I heard it was a little less touristy, a more intimate setting, and their signature piece The Harold – in which the performers take one idea from the audience and weave it into a succession of complex interwoven scenes – sounded intriguing. Plus, tickets are significantly cheaper, so, yeah…

We still had some time to kill before the 8:30 show time, so we took a stroll down by the lakeshore. There’s an oddly indescribable beauty that you can look in one direction to see sandy beach and crystal clear water…

… then turn right around to see the some of largest skyscrapers in the world.

 It should be an eyesore, but for some reason it works here.

Soon, it was time to be on our way, and we walked in the direction of the theater. We stopped to eat at place called TacoBurritoKing, simply because the name sounded funny to us. Apparently it’s a Chicago-only fast food chain. It was actually pretty good. I could see it becoming popular around the country.  [It was a delicious burrito!]

We kept walking, which took us away from the tourist area, so we got to see some somewhat scary people. This one teenager was flicking little pieces of paper at anyone who passed by. It was so juvenile it was hard to feel threatened by it. We did pass by a really impressive urban garden, with some yummy looking vegetables in it.

We eventually got to the street where the theater was supposed to be. But, as the old saying goes, “One does not simply walk down a street in Chicago and get to one’s destination.” I guess the city has been built and rebuilt so many times streets have been dissected by new cross-streets that you can’t always guarantee a straight shot. Or I might just be really bad at maps. [You know, when I was walking around by myself all day, I didn’t get lost. Why?]

Strangely, Laura has this skill for tracking down hunky firemen to give her directions, so we made it to the theater with plenty of time to spare. [In all fairness, he wasn’t particularly hunky.  I did check, though.  When I’m in a big city, and I need to ask for directions, it’s important to know whom to safely approach.]  One of the firemen told us to turn left at these huge piles of wood that could be used to start a fire. I guess that’s a landmark that would stand out to a fireman. (Seriously, though, what’s with all the firemen all over Chicago? They are literally everywhere. I know they had that big fire that one time, but guys, you’re making me look bad.)

The theater had a bar downstairs we sat around in while we waited for the show to start. It seemed to be part waiting area, part college hangout. Two guys were engaged in a very intense game of Risk.

When it was time for the show to start, we made our way upstairs to the Jason Chin Harold Cabaret – named for a beloved improv teacher who passed away earlier this year. It was cabaret-style (hence the name) so we all sat at little tables while a waitress tried to sell drinks. I went a little crazy and ordered the ginger ale – with sugar! [Um…yes…]

There were two Harold teams on the bill. First was named James Island, the second was Sears Tower. Using my detective skills I figured Sears Tower was the featured act. (Their name was written really big on the ticket.) Both groups were funny, but Sears Tower were excellent. The audience suggestion of “mermaid” informed the whole performance. The part where one of the guys played a lobster fisherman trying to delicately inform his partner he was leaving the business to go whaling doesn’t sound very funny on paper, but I was crying laughing. In between acts the two groups performed together. They pulled an audience member up and asked her to explain the mundane events of her day. From that, they created a short piece representing this woman’s nightmare based on what she had told them. Hilarious.

I think the thing I appreciated the most was how Sears Tower never resorted to crude humor. I wouldn’t say it was for kids, but they avoided the easy laughs comedians sometimes get from sex jokes. In fact, some of the performance wasn’t exactly funny, but sort of touching – like a sequence where a couple is celebrating their 15^th anniversary, and the wife’s mind was clearly somewhere else while her husband speaks to her wistfully of how much their lives have changed. This was legitimate acting in a performance style I generally associate with Whose Line is It Anyway? - type skits. Highly recommended.

135. CHARLIE TROTTER'S

Chicago, Illinois

7/21/2015

One of the issues with the 1000 places experiment – the thing that wakes me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, screaming – is the possibility that many of these places may cease to exist by the time we get a chance to get there. [Sad, but true.] Sure, Mount Rushmore may have a few more years in it, but I may need to speed up work on getting that ticket to the Prairie Home Companion – with no disrespect to Garrison Keillor’s youthful vigor.

Charlie Trotter’s was a world-renowned restaurant run by its eponymous celebrity chef. (Patricia says it was a favorite of diverse spenders such as Michael Jordan and the King of Sweden.) He is probably best known in popular culture as playing an exaggerated version of himself in the Julia Roberts’ film My Best Friend’s Wedding. In 2012 Trotter unexpectedly closed his successful restaurant. A year later, the beloved Chicago culinary icon was found dead of a stroke at the age of 54.

Not only was Trotter a great chef, he was apparently a stand-up guy, who spent a lot of his time promoting culinary arts in the young through his various philanthropic efforts. In one of those funny twists of fate, although we naturally could not visit his restaurant, the museum inside the Water Tower contained a special exhibit honoring Charlie Trotter’s legacy.

Artifacts included his recipe notes (he drew pictures of his measurements instead of writing, to compensate for his dyslexia) and the apron he worn on the last night of cooking at his restaurant.

Ok, so we didn’t technically get to eat at his table, but certainly this was the next best thing.

RETURN TRIP - THE MAGNIFICENT MILE

Chicago, Illinois

7/21/2015

In 2010 Laura and I went to Chicago with baby Daniel in tow. We enjoyed that trip so much, that last summer we planned a return trip – hoping to leave the kids behind for a sort of second honeymoon just before our new baby was going to be born. However, Baby Brigid decided to come three-months early, so naturally the trip was cancelled. (Sorry, Patricia.) [Patricia doesn’t care.]

Fast forward to today. I just got a new job, and by coincidence I was sent to a conference in Chicago. So, the plan: We leave the kids with Laura’s parents, Laura comes with me, I work during the day, and in the evening we meet back up and knock off a few of the 1000 places. It’s so crazy it might actually work! [You’re crazy, but it did work.]

We decided to stay at Chicago’s Chinatown Hotel. (Laura loves Chinatowns.) [It’s true.  I love them a lot.] We arrived Monday night, just in time for dinner. The Chinatown isn’t very touristy, so we stopped into one of the various restaurants and decided to try some foods we had never tried before and you might not find in your typical “Chinese restaurant” that appeals to Americans.

Laura had jellyfish and cucumbers.

[You don’t need a picture of me eating jellyfish.]

I had duck tongues.

I like duck, but, um, their tongues… once was enough.

We explored the little shops in Chinatown for a while, before heading back to the hotel. I got up early the next morning for my first L-train trip to my conference. (L-train is the nickname for Chicago’s elevated train system.) We were a little worried about whether we could handle the train, but it was extremely easy, convenient, and – most importantly – cheap.

[So while hubby was busy working at his job, I was busy spending all his money.  I thought that I would want to spend all day in my hotel room, watching Court TV, but I realized at 8:00am that I wanted to go exploring.  Just around the corner to the hotel, was a Chinese bakery.  They sold large buns stuffed with anything you could possibly imagine, and only $1 each.  I figured that hubby would not cry over the price, so I bought three buns and a pineapple smoothie with the tapioca pearls at the bottom.  I’ve never gotten a smoothie with the pearls at the bottom before.  They seem to be the rage in Asia, though.  I don’t think I will repeat the experience.  Even though Chinatown seemed a little bit on the rough side, I realized that I blended in a bit, due to being Korean.  Most of the people there assumed that I knew their language.  It was a rather interesting experience.

I then got on the L Train and made my way to the Magnificent Mile.  Because it was 8:30 in the morning, very few stores were actually open.  So I just wandered about for an hour just to get my bearing.  Once the stores opened, I started at the Water Tower Place mall.  It had several great stores, including the Lego store and American Girl.  Our kids would have loved experiencing this.

Because there are seven of us, on a modest income, I tend to shop almost exclusively at thrift and discount stores.  I can find name brand items for half the price. So I’m not really interested in the high-end stores with brand names such as Ralph Lauren and Louis Vuitton.  While in Chicago, I realized that I needed a pocket size wallet for my pants, so that I could carry my money around without the need for a backpack.  It was a mistake for me to think that even Macy’s had one for less than $50.  While I do not judge people for shopping in such exclusive stores, I personally have difficulty justifying spending $1,000 on a purse.  There are starving people in the world who could live on that much money for the rest of their lives.  Enough of the preaching, but I never did find a department store that sold pocket size wallets under $50.  That’s just crazy.

I made my way back to the Water Tower around lunchtime and sat on a bench to eat my buns.  A lot of people there were business men/women on their lunch break.  There were birds all over the place even though there was a sign that clearly said: “DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS”.  I had pretty much gone through the entire Millennium Mile.  Because it was Tuesday, I also stopped by the Luma Museum of art, which is only free on that day.  I know, your jaw has dropped to the floor.  I voluntarily entered an art museum.  But it was free.  That’s the only reason why I went there.

I decided to walk the other end of the Millennium Mile, away from the crowds, and stores.  Eventually I ended up on the shores of Lake Michigan.  It was a delightful surprise.  I love the water.  There was a little open restaurant right on the beach, so I put up my feet, ordered an appetizer and enjoyed the lake.  My only complaint was that because Chicago was in the background, there was plenty of noise and lots of people.  If you’re trying to find a quiet getaway, that was not the place to be.  All the same I spent about two hours on the shores, before I had to walk my way back to pick up hubby.  I only took the L train to get to my hubby’s spot, so I walked about eight hours that day, with occasional breaks.  I probably walked about 6-7 miles totally.  This was not for the faint of heart.  By the time I had to pick up Oliver, I pretty much wanted to die.  I’m used to walking, but not all day.]

My conference went until 4pm, and when I came downstairs Laura was waiting for me. Time for some adventures! [Nooooo!] We spent the better part of the evening re-exploring the Magnificent Mile – Chicago’s high-end shopping district. Our tastes haven’t changed much. This is the kind of place that doesn’t appeal too much to us, inasmuch as the shopping goes. I did appreciate the famous Water Tower – one of the few buildings not destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire, which has made it a symbol of survival. In a practical sense, people used the building as a landmark to guide themselves in the right direction amidst the chaos, since most of the city had become unrecognizable.

We did stop into some of the stores, and we do still love that Lego one. The older boys are really into Lego and Star Wars right now, so it's too bad they missed me being harassed by a Storm Trooper.