REAXblog

It was Monday morning, and finally I had a “no drive” day. I’d be spending all day in Chicago.

The first thing I noticed was, I get up early. Micah got up, maybe by 9, and his working cousin Alvin barely rolled up by like 9:30. Amazing. I think I was up around 630 or 7. This is the time that civilization wakes up, not those Neanderthal mid-morning wake up times.

So, what was the plan? Micah and I discussed this a bit. He had some place to go for lunch, then we were going to the White Sox-Red Sox game that evening. I didn’t have anything special on my agenda… see Wrigley, um, see the Loop? I really just wanted to drink and hang out doing fun things.

We went to Duncan Donuts first; Duncan Donuts is east coast for coffee. Everyone goes there, everyone complains about it. I supposed its not so different than Starbucks; except with your standard service-industry workers instead of aspiring doctoral candidates and a smattering of post-docs. Anywho.

We bought an all-day fun pass at (where else) the currency exchange around the corner. For some reason you can’t buy them from a ticket vending machine. The card was good for 24 hours, which meant we might be able to squeeze something out of it the next morning too. We hopped an Orange Line train for Wrigleyville.

It was a nice, sunny day and other people were visiting Wrigley too, now that the Cubs were on a road trip. Micah and I took pictures, checked out souvenirs. I was tempted to buy something, but I held firm. Micah asked around, to find out how much a tour cost… $35!?? We were both outraged. A Cubs curse has begun anew.

From here, we went to Micah’s old favorite Italian Sandwhich place, that turns out to be right across from the “Rock & Roll McDonalds.” We went there, I was expecting some local joint, it turned out to be the Red Robin of italian sandwhich shops. It was cheap food, however, for the classiness of the joint. I got some sort of beef/sausage grinder which I can barely choke down. I was unimpressed, although Micah seems to enjoyed his Combo just fine. We both made a visit to the facilities.

So, what else did we do? I had to visit a US Bank, which I knew was in the loop, and deposit some various checks I had from selling my stuff. On the way, we went to Millenium Park on the edge of the Loop. This is where the Bean is, and also there was some sort of terrorist I think, but that was a few years back. So, the bean, is this metallic silver… bean. It looks like an alien space ship. I keep expecting to see an M Night Shayamalan movie that features the bean, and pod people, and a clip of someone watching “The Day The Earth Stood Still” as a little tiny reference.

Anyway, we took more pictures and tried to look at pretty girls. Unfortunately, there weren’t alot out for some reason, mostly families, kids with braces, people in suits. No rollerblading bikini girls. Hmmm. As it turns out, the bean was very cool, and just like The Day… it didn’t have a visible seam and was highly reflective, so that some of my photos, you can turn them the other way and not tell which is real and which is the reflection.

It was hot this day, so I texted my friend Google for a 7-11. Bingo, two blocks away - I needed a slurpee bad. My thirst was slaked. Uh, what else? The Magnificent Mile, walked down that. I guess it was amazing, it was the same chain crap you see at K-Mart, just more expensive. Eventually it hit around 5pm, and I was beat from walking all day. We went to the southside, to watch the Sox.

So, although it’s the southside, I wouldn’t describe the neighborhood as dangerous, there just wasn’t much there. Empty buildings, parking lots, etc. No real businesses either, which was suprising. We (I) wanted to drink real bad, but first we had to buy tickets. We scored, because it looked like Monday evening game tickets could be had for $7/apeice. Unfortunately, it turned out the game was a “premier” game (rubber match between a good rival), and the cheapest seats possible were $35. Ouch. We forked it over, like suckers.

Anyway, I still wanted to drink, despite the stiff one we’d just had for the tickets. We walked east. Pretty quickly we were in the hood. Instead of neighborhood bar, there were multiple neighborhood liqour stores. There were panhandlers and other icky undesireables about our midst. We got uneasy glares from the cops. We hopped a bus (still on our “fun fare”) and retreated.

We traipsed through the Comisky parking lots, observing some sort of beanbag game that everyone plays while tailgating. We should have tailgated. Dang. We walked through. I wanted to crash a barbeque, but I couldn’t tell Micah wouldn’t have it, so eventually we found the ONE bar anywhere near Comiskey. I quickly downed two $4 old-style cans, and Micah a Miller Light. Whooo!

OK, so that drinks thing was a dud, and I couldn’t see myself getting tipsy on $7 beer served in plastic cups, so I had to squash it and see the game straight. Sporting events are perfect drinking occasions, and I was upset to lose this opportunity. I had been thinking alot about drinking, as you can tell.

Anyway, Micah asserted his calming effect on baseball games - after watching the Lester no-hitter as his only other live baseball game of the year, the (White) Sox pitcher threw six perfect innings. Micah sees that stuff, I never do. I should also note, Ken Griffey Jr. was traded to the White Sox and “played” Center Field. Griffey was my favorite player for a long time, and still is. But it sucks seeing the same dude who was the best non-arrogant-prick to ever play baseball to being old, fat, and slow? OK, thats mean, but he ain’t what he used to be. I judge myself getting old because I now bookend the career of a surefire Hall-of-Famer. Anyway, Micah had meet Griffey before - he was his assistant at a card show when they were both teenagers.

OK, so Chicago eventually blew it. I didn’t care too much about the result, as I secretly hoped both teams could lose. There were many pretty girls - all in White Sox attire - about, and I blame Micah completely for my inability to approach any of them. We hopped a train back up north. The orange line ran straight from 35th Ave to Bryn Mawr where Alvin lived, although it took awhile. When we got home, I checked that Van Go hadn’t been towed or stolen, and we settled in for bed.