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Chicago, 2017
Oct. 24th, 2017 07:09 amSince Darwin is away for a week at a conference, and since Max was at his mother's for the first weekend of it, I decided to get out of town for a change of scene. Take my mind off all the difficulty I've been having, and so forth.
On Friday, I dropped Darwin off at the airport for his flight (we shocked the bystanders by kissing good-bye), and from there I headed down the highway.
The drive was occasionally nerve-wracking, mostly after the sun went down and I was driving through a strange city in the dark. I worship at the GPS altar, though, and remembered how it was back when you had to squint at hand-written directions and pray you didn't miss your exit. No thanks!
I found my AirBnB flat fairly easily and got the key from the lockbox, though there was no public street parking and I had to pull in next to a fire hydrant while I unloaded the car. That was nervous work! I dashed up and down the stairs, praying a cop wouldn't wander by. But all was good--I dumped my stuff and got away scott free!
And thank you to whoever recommended Spot Hero to me! I looked for a parking place and found one directly behind my flat for only $30 for the whole weekend. (!!!) It couldn't have been more perfect.
The flat was a studio apartment, very basic, but perfectly serviceable. And the bed was comfy! I've stayed in a couple AirBnB places where the owner must've gotten the mattress from the curb. This one was a delight.
I was staying near Boystown. Initially, I'd felt wiped out by the long Friday, but after dozing on the comfy mattress, I found the energy to go out and explore. Boystown is always fun. I like the shopping and energy of being around other gay men. It's fun being in a place where the default is LGBT instead of straight, and where more men walk together holding hands than men and women. I'm not a bar person, and I don't like striking up conversations with strangers, but I love to people-watch, and Boystown is a fun place to do it. I wandered up and down the famous Halstead Drive, making my Fitbit happy with all the extra steps.
I got Pad Thai in a place that serves it until 4 AM. I got ice cream at a convenience store. All things I can't do when Darwin is around because he doesn't like Thai food and can't eat ice cream.
Saturday I slept late, then ate breakfast at a gay-owned cafe just up the street. Pesto omelette with cheese, hash browns, and oatmeal bread toast heavy enough to clock a reindeer with. Fantastic!
I hopped on my bike. See, I have a very nice bike rack on the back of my car, and I'd decided to take my bicycle with me, since within downtown Chicago, most destinations take the same amount of time by car or by bike, and with a bike you don't have to worry about parking.
I rode down to Lake Michigan. Rather than allow housing development directly on the lake, Chicago wisely made the entire shoreline public property and put in a series of parks, trails, and other recreational facilities. The area gets a lot of use. I picked a trail ("trail" in this case meaning "four-lanes and paved") and headed off. The weather was global-warming perfect--sunny, low 70s, breezy at is always is on the lake. I rode for a couple-three hours with Lake Michigan stretching off in one direction and a steady stream of parkland with toned, shirtless men running through it in the other. Who could ask for better?
I love riding my bike, and realized I didn't really want to do anything else right then. Drive five hours just to ride my bike down the Lake Michigan shoreline? Yes. This was my weekend, and I was going to do exactly what I wanted to do. I rode and rode and rode, putting some distance between me and the trauma of the last month.
In the end, I had to head back for some lunch. I had plans to eat in a couple of different upscale or famous places this weekend, but all of them turned out to be too far away from my flat or they were "we'll have a table in an hour" crowded. So I grazed my way through Chicago's hole-in-the-wall diners. Sushi. Noodles. Pizza by the slice. Love it!
I thought about going to the aquarium or the Field Museum and then realized I didn't really want to. Instead, I window shopped and bought a few presents. I popped into Graham Crackers comic book shop--the most well-stocked comic shop I've seen in a mammoth's age--but didn't buy anything. I considered going to the Fudge Pot, then realized it was full of stuff I couldn't eat (my fascination with the candy-making process notwithstanding), so I didn't.
My Fitbit was very pleased with me for all the exercise.
By evening, I wasn't very hungry. I had a ticket for the Improvised Shakespeare Company's 8:00 show, and decided to eat afterward. The theater was about two and a half miles from my flat and the weather was still gorgeous, so I climbed on my bike and headed off with my phone piping directions into my earpiece. (Such a delightful invention!)
This trip was more interesting. Chicago streets have bike lanes, and I used them judiciously, but it was a little unnerving to have cars cruise past my left elbow, especially at night, though the streets were well-lighted. Still, I persevered and got to the theater in record time. In fact, I had more than an hour before curtain.
As it happened, across the street was the biggest Whole Foods store in the whole wide world. No, seriously. It took up an entire city block. I wandered in for a look. Man! Not only did it have the usual grocery selection, the place had a bar, a food court, three buffets, and countless deli counters. I was feeling a little peckish, so I bought some raspberries and a container of vegan chocolate mousse. I was a little nervous about the latter--how good could vegan mousse be?--but it was indistinguishable from regular mousse. Topped with fresh raspberries, and it was mousse-y heaven.
It was time for the show, so I headed over there. The Improvised Shakespeare Company is an all-male group (hee!) who put on an improvised comedy play all done in the style of Shakespeare. They began the evening by asking the audience for a title. They settled on "Ladies," and off they went.
The plot unfurled--or unraveled. The king of France had demanded that the queen of England marry him. Incensed by his audacity, the queen declared war on France, and made a long list of people she intended to kill, including the king's cat. The king of France, unnerved by this, decided to avoid war by . . . apologizing? Who knew! Meanwhile, the king of Italy, caught between the two factions, decided to side with France because their food is better, and then, once France was distracted by the war, betray France by assassinating the king and taking over the entire country. Also meanwhile, a group of druids decided they should put a stop to the entire war. Things got increasingly complicated from there. :)
Best line of the evening: "I'm not going to war with an alcoholic cat."
It was silly and fun.
I had more hole-in-the-wall food on the way back to my flat. Yes!
Sunday I slept late again, breakfasted at the same cafe as yesterday (French toast combo this time), then wandered Boystown for a bit. Every single gay guy was walking his dog. I mean, seriously--a bazillion dogs were out, led by guilty guys with hangovers who had staggered in after too much partying and forgotten to take the pooch out last night.
And then it was the long drive back. It was a fine weekend away.
On Friday, I dropped Darwin off at the airport for his flight (we shocked the bystanders by kissing good-bye), and from there I headed down the highway.
The drive was occasionally nerve-wracking, mostly after the sun went down and I was driving through a strange city in the dark. I worship at the GPS altar, though, and remembered how it was back when you had to squint at hand-written directions and pray you didn't miss your exit. No thanks!
I found my AirBnB flat fairly easily and got the key from the lockbox, though there was no public street parking and I had to pull in next to a fire hydrant while I unloaded the car. That was nervous work! I dashed up and down the stairs, praying a cop wouldn't wander by. But all was good--I dumped my stuff and got away scott free!
And thank you to whoever recommended Spot Hero to me! I looked for a parking place and found one directly behind my flat for only $30 for the whole weekend. (!!!) It couldn't have been more perfect.
The flat was a studio apartment, very basic, but perfectly serviceable. And the bed was comfy! I've stayed in a couple AirBnB places where the owner must've gotten the mattress from the curb. This one was a delight.
I was staying near Boystown. Initially, I'd felt wiped out by the long Friday, but after dozing on the comfy mattress, I found the energy to go out and explore. Boystown is always fun. I like the shopping and energy of being around other gay men. It's fun being in a place where the default is LGBT instead of straight, and where more men walk together holding hands than men and women. I'm not a bar person, and I don't like striking up conversations with strangers, but I love to people-watch, and Boystown is a fun place to do it. I wandered up and down the famous Halstead Drive, making my Fitbit happy with all the extra steps.
I got Pad Thai in a place that serves it until 4 AM. I got ice cream at a convenience store. All things I can't do when Darwin is around because he doesn't like Thai food and can't eat ice cream.
Saturday I slept late, then ate breakfast at a gay-owned cafe just up the street. Pesto omelette with cheese, hash browns, and oatmeal bread toast heavy enough to clock a reindeer with. Fantastic!
I hopped on my bike. See, I have a very nice bike rack on the back of my car, and I'd decided to take my bicycle with me, since within downtown Chicago, most destinations take the same amount of time by car or by bike, and with a bike you don't have to worry about parking.
I rode down to Lake Michigan. Rather than allow housing development directly on the lake, Chicago wisely made the entire shoreline public property and put in a series of parks, trails, and other recreational facilities. The area gets a lot of use. I picked a trail ("trail" in this case meaning "four-lanes and paved") and headed off. The weather was global-warming perfect--sunny, low 70s, breezy at is always is on the lake. I rode for a couple-three hours with Lake Michigan stretching off in one direction and a steady stream of parkland with toned, shirtless men running through it in the other. Who could ask for better?
I love riding my bike, and realized I didn't really want to do anything else right then. Drive five hours just to ride my bike down the Lake Michigan shoreline? Yes. This was my weekend, and I was going to do exactly what I wanted to do. I rode and rode and rode, putting some distance between me and the trauma of the last month.
In the end, I had to head back for some lunch. I had plans to eat in a couple of different upscale or famous places this weekend, but all of them turned out to be too far away from my flat or they were "we'll have a table in an hour" crowded. So I grazed my way through Chicago's hole-in-the-wall diners. Sushi. Noodles. Pizza by the slice. Love it!
I thought about going to the aquarium or the Field Museum and then realized I didn't really want to. Instead, I window shopped and bought a few presents. I popped into Graham Crackers comic book shop--the most well-stocked comic shop I've seen in a mammoth's age--but didn't buy anything. I considered going to the Fudge Pot, then realized it was full of stuff I couldn't eat (my fascination with the candy-making process notwithstanding), so I didn't.
My Fitbit was very pleased with me for all the exercise.
By evening, I wasn't very hungry. I had a ticket for the Improvised Shakespeare Company's 8:00 show, and decided to eat afterward. The theater was about two and a half miles from my flat and the weather was still gorgeous, so I climbed on my bike and headed off with my phone piping directions into my earpiece. (Such a delightful invention!)
This trip was more interesting. Chicago streets have bike lanes, and I used them judiciously, but it was a little unnerving to have cars cruise past my left elbow, especially at night, though the streets were well-lighted. Still, I persevered and got to the theater in record time. In fact, I had more than an hour before curtain.
As it happened, across the street was the biggest Whole Foods store in the whole wide world. No, seriously. It took up an entire city block. I wandered in for a look. Man! Not only did it have the usual grocery selection, the place had a bar, a food court, three buffets, and countless deli counters. I was feeling a little peckish, so I bought some raspberries and a container of vegan chocolate mousse. I was a little nervous about the latter--how good could vegan mousse be?--but it was indistinguishable from regular mousse. Topped with fresh raspberries, and it was mousse-y heaven.
It was time for the show, so I headed over there. The Improvised Shakespeare Company is an all-male group (hee!) who put on an improvised comedy play all done in the style of Shakespeare. They began the evening by asking the audience for a title. They settled on "Ladies," and off they went.
The plot unfurled--or unraveled. The king of France had demanded that the queen of England marry him. Incensed by his audacity, the queen declared war on France, and made a long list of people she intended to kill, including the king's cat. The king of France, unnerved by this, decided to avoid war by . . . apologizing? Who knew! Meanwhile, the king of Italy, caught between the two factions, decided to side with France because their food is better, and then, once France was distracted by the war, betray France by assassinating the king and taking over the entire country. Also meanwhile, a group of druids decided they should put a stop to the entire war. Things got increasingly complicated from there. :)
Best line of the evening: "I'm not going to war with an alcoholic cat."
It was silly and fun.
I had more hole-in-the-wall food on the way back to my flat. Yes!
Sunday I slept late again, breakfasted at the same cafe as yesterday (French toast combo this time), then wandered Boystown for a bit. Every single gay guy was walking his dog. I mean, seriously--a bazillion dogs were out, led by guilty guys with hangovers who had staggered in after too much partying and forgotten to take the pooch out last night.
And then it was the long drive back. It was a fine weekend away.
