I took the day off on Friday and we took the train to Chicago – driving to Harvard IL to get it. Don’t even get me started on how our evil governor deprived us of high speed rail, because it would have cost us Wisconsin taxpayers too much, and instead we paid for trains we never used; it pales in comparison to the Foxconn nightmare.
To amuse myself on the drive, I took pictures of the clouds through my sunglasses.
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Political horrors aside, we are having a lovely weekend.
Last night we had burgers for dinner and wended our way through the Taylor Swift fans (for her it was the first of two nights at Soldier Field) to get to the Auditorium Theater to see David Byrne, the first of three nights for him.
It was an amazing show – later Mark said he thought it was his best if the year. Talking Heads meets New Orleans-Afro-marching band drum lines, with ’80s Devo, Laurie Anderson style dance moves and elegant lighting and staging. It’s a standard set list – here’s Chicago, and I found the May 14 show in Pittsburgh, and Chicago was the same.
We walked home amidst the Tyler Swift fans. It made it seem like there were maybe 17 men attending the show, and it was middle class privilege on display – oblivious moms and over excited tween girls taking up too much space on the sidewalk.
Saturday morning we went for coffee and then took Hanne to the bus after stopping at Stan’s for donuts. She’d worked out a plan to go to a graduation party in Janesville, then bus back to Madison, where Rach would pick her up at Memorial Union, though she wasn’t above dropping a text to Auntie Rae Rae, angling to be picked up in Janesville. Rachael rightly declined to give up two hours of her busy day when riding the bus was going to be perfectly easy. It all worked out OK and no one was injured.
Meanwhile back in Chicago we met up with Rob for a very nice lunch at the West Loop version of a traditional Italian place – Monteverde. We split an order of arancini with ‘nduja served in a puddle of herb mayonnaise; eggs poached in tomato sauce with sausage; an “Oma” salad – fresh & pickled veggies in an avocado dressing; Croque Monteverde Madame – a toast with bacon, cheese, asparagus, and an egg on top; and Caccio e Pepe whey cool.
Back at the apartment I showered and changed and we headed out to meet up with the next set of friends for the symphony. The Pret a Manger that Joan picked was closed, despite the fact that Google assured us it was open till 8:00, so we walked a little farther north on Michigan Ave., and went to the Pain Quotidian, the one with the slowest service of any Pain Quotidian we’ve ever been in, and that’s counting others in Chicago, Washington, and New York City.
The concert was good, but as Mark pointed out, we’ve seen CSO with other conductors who had a better relationship with the musicians than Maestro Janowski. Mark also had some reservations about listening to Wagner, given the current political climate here in the US. Another one of those things I am sure he’s right about.
We got rained on a little as we walked home, but I think because the Symphony got out earlier, no Taylor Swift fans to contend with. And, what I love about Chicago – on Saturday I had 10,000 steps in by 11:00 a.m., and ended walking just over 6 miles. Bring on the big lunch!
Sunday I rode the bus back to Madison, and it was pretty uneventful except for knocking over a glass of water on our table at Dollop, where we had stopped for coffee and muffins and scones. On the bus, there was a drunk in the seat behind me, muttering to himself, mostly something about “same old n-words in the neighborhood” but he conked out pretty fast and got quiet. I had to share a seat, but I was looking out the window at a skinny kid in a leather coat finishing a smoke, and thought that he’d be OK to share with and maybe his cigarette aura would cancel out the stale drink aura from the drunk behind. Sure enough, the drunk wouldn’t move over and I ended up with the kid, but only as far as Rockford where a lot of people got off and we all got our own seats.
When I got home, my plan was to unpack, then bike over to the first Central Park Session, the pursuit of happiness session. I knew I was kind of off on timing – I missed some of the bands I wanted to see, and couldn’t stay late enough for the rest, but figured I could bike over, do a turn around the park, and then do my co-op shopping.
Hanne ended up coming with me, so we drove, parked by the Wil-Mar, and walked to the park. We got to hear a bit of Curley Taylor and Zydeco Trouble – they opened with War’s Cisco Kid which seemed a little odd to me, but I really liked Angelique Kidjo this morning on NPR talking about, you know, there’s no such thing as cultural appropriation – there’s being honest and respectful about your sources and inspiration, and there’s stealing. “I always say, when you are inspired by a music, and you acknowledge that source of inspiration, it is cultural expansion.”
Wandered around, said hello to old friends, and then went to the co-op and shopped.
When we got home, I made rhubarb upside down muffins and turnips sauteed with their greens for dinner, ingredients from my CSA box. With brown rice cooked in some veggie broth that I’d made a few nights ago, with lots of celery and parsley in it, that kinda stunk up the house. Like that insult in Juno, Michael Cera and Ellen Page are talking about a girl they think is uncool, and they say, “Her house smells like soup.”
Turnips cooked with their greens
Hanne and I ate, but it took me too long to get everything ready so Rach abstained – she’s still on Eastern time, and it was after 8:00 p.m. according to her clock. And no one ate any muffins but me, even though I had extra rhubarb puree to top them with.
And man, this post has been as hard to finish as it was getting out the house this morning, Monday. I didn’t get to work until quarter to 10:00. Ouch.