A tourist in my own town

[muckefuck]

Right now Chicago is windy and cold, with temperatures just above the freezing point and rain mixed with snow. I'm so glad I spent some time outdoors yesterday. It wasn't exactly warm, but it was quite comfortable in the sunshine. More importantly, it gave me a chance to spend a little time with mlr.

He was supposed to be our houseguest, but unfortunately that didn't work out. (Yet monshu and I still got hostess gifts anyway. Best deal ever!) Friday, our plans shrunk from half a day together to a few hours. Saturday, I still didn't trust my tummy, so I pulled the plug on high tea with Nuphy. We still planned to get to the opera house in plenty of time for introductions and sightseeing, but then he was horribly delayed in traffic and I was stuck in the outer lobby waiting for him while mlr had to show himself around. Then we missed our first intermission rendezvous, leaving only a truncated meeting during the second. He wanted food afterwards, but all I wanted was bed.

We both rose late the next day, so it was already afternoon before I made it downtown or he made it to the Art Institute. (monshu got the drop on both of us by hours and was already downtown killing time before meeting up with mollpeartree and princeofcairo for Krrish 3 at the River East.) I didn't want to rush him so I ducked into the Cultural Center for a bit. Lots of gimmicky local art on the first floor but an interesting site-specific installation on the second floor. Then I took him to the Lurie Garden where we luxuriated in the sun and discussed landscaping.

He was surprised that I wanted to visit the Bean. "Do natives come here?" I didn't foresee myself growing so fond it either, but it inspires such genuine delight in all the tourists who visit it that's a year-round vortex of happy vibes--not to mention a loaded buffet for a language-and-culture buff like me. There was a gaggle of teens on the Gehry Bridge daring each other to slide down the side and a man with a hose spreading the first layers of ice on the rink in front of the Park Grill.

After that, we were at a bit of a loss for what to do, so I suggested he come check out the Cultural Center as well. I tend to forget about it because it's generally not open when I'm walking past, but it really is a municipal jewel hidden in plain sight. As we were climbing the steps from the south entrance, mlr asked if there was a string quartet playing. "Oh no," I said, "that's recorded"--moments before turning the corner on a landing and seeing that I was, in fact, dead wrong and three members of the International Contemporary Ensemble were playing beneath the rotunda.

mlr wanted to stay, so we managed to catch exactly half of the concert. Unfortunately, we were in the back section of seats where there was a constant flow of people coming and leaving (never between sections of course, only after they'd heard enough of the next piece to decide they didn't like it). I thought about moving up, but the photo-snapping and such wasn't limited to the fringes. Kudos to the performers for including some more challenging works alongside the Bach and such, but this was about the least suitable venue imaginable for a piece with extended silent sections and exquisitely quiet overtones.

Afterwards we met up with the Old Man at the Intercontinental (our wily Texan scored a room in the historic tower for less than the Super 8 in Rogers Park) with the intention of dining across the street at Lao Sze Chuan, not knowing that it wasn't slated to open until next month. Oops. But Oysy is quite close by and still quite good, even if the serve did inexplicably interpret the GWO's order of a "scotch and water" to be a San Pellegrino. ("Just watch," he said irascibly, "from the way he looked at me, I know he's going to get my order wrong." He was away from the table when it arrived and I sent your man away to get it right. "We're not going to tell monshu about this," I admonished mlr. But then he arrived and asked, and we gave the game away by collapsing in giggles.)

Today our doughty tourist is on his own again. I think I talked him out of an excursion to Hyde Park, but I'm still unease at the prospect of him fighting horizontal sleet to make it back to Michigan Avenue. But I guess it will take the Chicago experience of someone who's only ever visited at the beginning of summer before and make it into something altogether more well-rounded.

Comments

[mlr.livejournal.com]

I think I acted on all of your recommendations.

This morning I broke my LJ/Flickr silence and uploaded some cell-phone pics from the weekend.

Heaps of gratitude!