Chicago, Chicago a toddling town! Back from a weekend in Chi-town. One of our best trips. Got into town early Saturday morning. Stayed at the sumptuous Conrad Hilton next to the old Blackstone, which is being renovated for condos. I haven't stayed this far up on Michigan Ave in a while and it was a nice change. Grant Park is directly across the street and Buddy Guy's Blues Legends is in back of the hotel. And Powell's Books, one of the best remainder book stores in the country is a block away.
The legendary jazz singer Sheila Jordan was singing at the Green Mill over the weekend. An annual event every Memorial Day. I brought Jordon to Louisville to appear at a Louisville Jazz Society concert at least 15 years ago and I hadn't seen her since. Now 75 she hadn't changed a bit. D and I were seated in a booth waiting for the concert to start, when suddenly D said "There she is!" Jordon, who was married to Charlie Parker's pianist Duke Jordon, had come in the front door and was headed for the bandstand. I stood up, went over to her and said "I picked you up at the airport for concert a long time ago. Do you remember me?" Whether she did or not, she jumped up and hugged me. Then I said "Gail Wynters said to tell you hello from Louisville." "Oh! I love Gail Wynters. Tell her, I hope she's doing well," she said.
The rest of the night was magic. Jordon was in fine voice and the young trio of piano, bass and drums was tight and swung like mad.
Chicago is cultural gumbo. The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the hotel Saturday morning was a large Indian wedding being held on the sidewalk in front of the parking garage. Several drummers were playing along with a recorded sound track while men and women danced, jumping up and down, their hands high in the air. The men wore white, gold trimmed ceremonial hats and the woman were dressed in saris.
The streets were also full of military men and women participating in the Memorial Day parade.
At one point a rather worn looking white horse was led to the front door and a large man, I presume the groom, mounted it. The dancing and drums became more intense and the group marched in a procession around the block to the front of the hotel where the wedding was being held.
It is impossible to stand out or be a freak in Chicago. To much competition. On the way to Water Tower I saw in quick succession; A man in a large black hat, striped shirt and boots, a man wearing a sandwich board which announced something about the Russian communists being responsible for world terrorism, a very thin middle aged man running in a bikini shorts, and a young black male midget who asked for a contribution. "We're having a party for boy who went down. Tickets are only $3.50."
The weather was a great, high in the 80s, but thunderstorms, part of a severe weather system that spawned tornados back home in Kentucky and Indiana, occurred of and on.
It rained Sunday night so, it was perfect for walking across the street and hearing the blues at Buddy Guy's Legends. A really nasty looking store-front but a nice spacious interior. The evening began with an acoustic blues group followed by a rather dull electric blues band. The music and the bland cajun food made for a convenient but less than memorable evening.
Before leaving Monday afternoon D and I walked down to Lake Michigan from Grant Park and got caught in a down pour that caused us to seek shelter under the trees in Grant Park.
Yesterday, a severe thunderstorm hit Frankfort just before quiting time. I waited it out and when I got to Louisville the weather looked like it had cleared up. So, I decided to ride up Frankfort Ave. on my bike for dinner. I stopped at El Mundo's and ordered a burrito and had taken about two bites when I looked up and saw a large black cloud bearing down on me from the north/west. One of the restaurant workers came out and said something about a tornado warning, which caused me to began eating my burrito even faster than I was previously, which had to be some kind of a record for burrito consumption. As the sky darkened and the wind picked up, I jumped on my bike and rode like hell for four miles arriving at home just as the first drops of rain began to hit the pavement. Whew! I spent the rest of the night sitting on my new screened in porch watching the first fire flies of the season compete with the lightning.
The legendary jazz singer Sheila Jordan was singing at the Green Mill over the weekend. An annual event every Memorial Day. I brought Jordon to Louisville to appear at a Louisville Jazz Society concert at least 15 years ago and I hadn't seen her since. Now 75 she hadn't changed a bit. D and I were seated in a booth waiting for the concert to start, when suddenly D said "There she is!" Jordon, who was married to Charlie Parker's pianist Duke Jordon, had come in the front door and was headed for the bandstand. I stood up, went over to her and said "I picked you up at the airport for concert a long time ago. Do you remember me?" Whether she did or not, she jumped up and hugged me. Then I said "Gail Wynters said to tell you hello from Louisville." "Oh! I love Gail Wynters. Tell her, I hope she's doing well," she said.
The rest of the night was magic. Jordon was in fine voice and the young trio of piano, bass and drums was tight and swung like mad.
Chicago is cultural gumbo. The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the hotel Saturday morning was a large Indian wedding being held on the sidewalk in front of the parking garage. Several drummers were playing along with a recorded sound track while men and women danced, jumping up and down, their hands high in the air. The men wore white, gold trimmed ceremonial hats and the woman were dressed in saris.
The streets were also full of military men and women participating in the Memorial Day parade.
At one point a rather worn looking white horse was led to the front door and a large man, I presume the groom, mounted it. The dancing and drums became more intense and the group marched in a procession around the block to the front of the hotel where the wedding was being held.
It is impossible to stand out or be a freak in Chicago. To much competition. On the way to Water Tower I saw in quick succession; A man in a large black hat, striped shirt and boots, a man wearing a sandwich board which announced something about the Russian communists being responsible for world terrorism, a very thin middle aged man running in a bikini shorts, and a young black male midget who asked for a contribution. "We're having a party for boy who went down. Tickets are only $3.50."
The weather was a great, high in the 80s, but thunderstorms, part of a severe weather system that spawned tornados back home in Kentucky and Indiana, occurred of and on.
It rained Sunday night so, it was perfect for walking across the street and hearing the blues at Buddy Guy's Legends. A really nasty looking store-front but a nice spacious interior. The evening began with an acoustic blues group followed by a rather dull electric blues band. The music and the bland cajun food made for a convenient but less than memorable evening.
Before leaving Monday afternoon D and I walked down to Lake Michigan from Grant Park and got caught in a down pour that caused us to seek shelter under the trees in Grant Park.
Yesterday, a severe thunderstorm hit Frankfort just before quiting time. I waited it out and when I got to Louisville the weather looked like it had cleared up. So, I decided to ride up Frankfort Ave. on my bike for dinner. I stopped at El Mundo's and ordered a burrito and had taken about two bites when I looked up and saw a large black cloud bearing down on me from the north/west. One of the restaurant workers came out and said something about a tornado warning, which caused me to began eating my burrito even faster than I was previously, which had to be some kind of a record for burrito consumption. As the sky darkened and the wind picked up, I jumped on my bike and rode like hell for four miles arriving at home just as the first drops of rain began to hit the pavement. Whew! I spent the rest of the night sitting on my new screened in porch watching the first fire flies of the season compete with the lightning.
No comments:
Post a Comment