Everyting is Better in the Windy City

Quick trip to the Chicago area to visit D-bro this weekend. We saw the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in concert at the Rialto Theater in Joliet. I was impressed as hell at our seats (we were in about the 10th row) until I noticed that most of the theater was empty. I couldn't believe it. They were fantastic.

It was weird. The guys were old. The audience was old. No one had a bic lighter to hold up. In fact, no one stood up. No one danced. No one smoked doobage, although they made several pot-related jokes. Mostly at Willy Nelson's expense.

The music kicked ass. Hanna and Fadden were dressed EXACTLY as they did in the 70s, which I found kinda scary and Hanna and Carpenter dyed their hair and looked incredibly young. They could have stepped right off of one of their album covers. That description does not apply to John McEuen. I have no idea where he got that shirt. It was strangely hip, yet disturbingly strange.

But first, we listened to a guy playing a pipe organ. Possibly he was the warm-up band. But the music had the effect of reminding me of childhood trips to the roller rink.

I'm pretty sure he played Rocky Top. You ain't lived til you've heard Rocky Top on a pipe organ.

The Rialto is one of the most remarkable spaces you can imagine. These photos don't begin to do it justice.



I was reminded of the lyric opera in Chicago.

Saturday, we went to Ikea and the Bass Pro Shop. We were tired from all that fun, so Sunday we decided to watch with incredulous wonder at the rain rushing sideways into the house, putting on boots and emptying the clogged rain gutters, mopping the floors in the bathroom on the lower level, which flooded, setting up dualing sump pumps in the backyard to pump out the swimming pool that formed. Oh, and in between all this, I caught up on my reading materials. Yes, I read no less than six hunting and fishing magazines in the bathroom after an accidental ingestion of raw Feta cheese (whew! was THAT a long morning).

There was also Greek food, Breaking Bad, and Vienna sausages involved. You never know what is going to happen on one of my adventures. Unless, of course, I forget the Lactaid, in which case my adventures are pretty much predictable.

And I am ashamed to say that I forgot to pick up El Milagro Corn Tortilla shells today. I still can't believe it. I have shamed my ancestors.