Trip to Chicago, Part 4. Sunday, May 7th.

DIARY

The next morning we just barely made it up and out in time to attend Mass at St. Thomas. It was a lucky day to attend; many of our friends were there, including Thad and Katie and Father Mike made an appearance at the end of Mass. We talked for them a few minutes after the precession to the statue of the Virgin, and caught up. Father Mike seems to be doing very well, but more than talking about his life he wanted to emphasize the need to acquaint ourselves with Brooklyn Hard Rolls. Katie and Thad are moving to the twin cities soon, and urged us to consider a move ourselves. It would put us in Milligan's general vicinity.

Afterward, we walked to Medici for lunch. Sky had called during the service and invited us to brunch at Velois, but the message was an hour old, so we figured it was too late. I decided to hold off on the Chicago style pizza until a more opportune moment, and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich is that which I think the Med can do better than no other. That, and their coffee, which is bizarrely addictive in that it tastes like the highest quality Colombian export roasted and ground together with plenty of scarab beetles and junebug. But it's good. I mean it! It's good!

On the way back, we passed Thad, Katie, and Father Mike again.

We headed over to Amber's to help clean from the party, although most of the cleaning had been finished by the time we arrived. Amber and Sky were there, as was Colin and Nora. W drank coffee and settled several tribulations of the night before. See? Here we are looking all tasteful and sepia:

Jess went in to take a nap on Amber's bed, while Amber and Sky and I moved to the back porch to discuss the trials and tribulations of Gothic Funk. Which was only the first REALLY fruitful conversation on the subject to take place during the trip. Amber came at the subject from the perspective of visual art, Sky from architecture, myself from literature, the grumpy bitch of the bunch (literature that is, not Connor) and we hammered out some useful parameters for discourse, if not Gothic Funk proper. (That was to follow the next day).

We walked to Moomers for dinner:

MOOMERS!


Igor says he wasn't hungover but I don't buy it.


Cute and ready to eat spaghetti and drink wine.


Oh, the humanity!


If you want something done right...

After several hours, Jess and Sky and I made the long trek back to the Ukrainian Village on first the #6 (a drunk couple were fighting on the corner) to Wacker, and walked the rest of the way north to the #66. On the way we saw something unexpected:

HAS SOMEONE HURLED A CINDER BLOCK THROUGH THE APPLE BUILDING???



No... just a clever marketing gimmick.

Although it did accomplish getting three members of their target demographic to cross the street to investigate.

Back at the bachelor pad:

Sky contemplates Bill's film-in-progress. For class.


With the exception of the godawful Chicago NFT,
this was one of the coolest bookshelves I've ever encountered.

We opened the futon. Sky and Bill eventually went to bed. Sam and I stayed up looking through UTube. We found the wonderful but offensive ebonics interpretations of Charlie Brown. It was well after three before I got any sleep.

END OF POST.