mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just me and a girl named Likivi I was beginning to feel a bit discouraged by the time noon rolled around. (That was an "introduction," (A header. A lead.) desined to draw you in and read more. Did it work?) After meeting my British friend and my German friend last night, and having a few beers, I was feeling pretty confident that I would meet all kinds of people on my one full day, and I would never want to leave Chicago ever again. That was how it happened last time. Shouldn't it happen again? Morning rolled around, as most mornings do, and my German friend (Thomas was his name, I think...) found me and wanted to know if I wanted to go to some clothes shop. Not my cup of tea for my one day in Chicago. Instead of risk an international incident, I decided to go. He looked. And he looked. And he looked. I swear, he was worse than a girl. Not that girls are bad, but maaaan, can they do an aweful lot of shopping by just looking. I made ample sure to show him that I was bored out of my gourd. He finally said that he would be shopping pretty much all day. I told him I thought he was a freaky bastard. Actually, I said something to the effect of, "I may just bugger out and see some sights." "Bugger out." I learned that from the sudden British influence I have gotten over the past week: Two viewings of About a Boy and an evening of beer drinking with an older British guy. It's a good phrase. I plan on using it more. So, off I went. Down Michigan Ave. If you have no clue about Chicago, Michigan Ave. is the main drag. Part of the "Magnificent Mile." Is that how you spell "Magnificent"? I don't have my dictionary here, and I am quite whooped. Anyway, it isn't really all that Magnificent at all. Lots of expensive shops. Lots of limos. I finally found my way -- quite accidentally, might I add -- at the Museum of Contemporary Art. Again, not that magnificent. I saw the most crap at this museum that some people call art that I just call "crap." There is a movement -- and I joke you not -- called the "minimalist movement." Their aim is to have the least number of things in a frame. It's like a contest. I saw a frame. In it was a canvas painted white. Actually, I take that back. No frame. Just a white canvas. Hanging in a museum. And people were somewhat impressed. Again. I call it crap. And this one guy had a small table cloth hanging up. It looked like it was put in the wash with a purple sock, because it had a slight purlplish hugh. That was it. That was art. Again, no lie: This is what it said as a description: "[The Artist] kept this on his floor or in a canvas bag so it would get wrinkled in his effort to make it 'living art.' Sometimes, he ate off of it, but was sure to clean it and throw it on his floor once again. You are a complete twit for reading all of this." Ok. So, it didn't say *all* of that, but it did say that he kept it on his floor and, basically, in a dirty clothes hamper. This, my friends, is contemporary art. And this is why you should write your congressman and protest the National Endowment of the Arts. This program only encourages idiots and no-talents to hang this on a wall and make me pay $6 to see it. Feeling a bit ripped off, I walked back to the hostel. It was noon. And I still hadn't found anybody to really hang out with. I was feeling a bit discouraged. Before I came, I was hoping to catch some live music somewhere. I didn't really find anything online. I think this whole "Internet" thing is a big lie. You know... about the part of being a free flow of information. Nowhere online did I see that Chicago was having a HUGE blues festival starting today. The hostel knew, and they were giving tours. I signed up for one of the tours because, and I admit, a big group of Germans also signed up. But on the way to the festival, none of the Germans talked to me. Not a single one. Again, I was a bit discouraged. But I started talking with our tour guide. She was a short Asian girl named Likivi (pronounced licky-vee). After the Germans all headed their own way, it was just me and Likivi and her boss? supervisor? I never made the relation. So, the three of us listed to this big black lady dressed in a green suit, gold shirt, and shiny gold hat sing about how she wanted to "Get Me a Big, Fat Man." I memorized other lyrics, but I am running out of time. Supervisor woman left, and it was just me and Likivi. She called up some of her friends, and we all met in front of another good concert. We danced, talked, drank margaritas, and had a helluva time. After that, we went and got stamped for the show going on later: The North Mississippi All Stars!!! All of us went and sat out on the lawn in front of the concert. There must have been a million people there. And there must have been half of that weight in marijuana, because, maaaaannnn... Woooo! No. I didn't have any. Air Force, remember? Likivi's sister, whose name I never could remember, some people I never caught their name, and myself went and found a hole in the crowd and played Hacky Sack for a good 2 hours. I played until my legs about fell off, but I was having a blast. After that, I went and sat for a few minutes before Likivi's sister asked if I wanted to go up close to the stage. Basically, I could have spit on the North Mississippi All Stars, I was so close. And the amount of pot was directly related to the distance you got to the stage. The closer you got, lots of pot. We danced and partied like it was 1999. Or, umm.... well, you know. It was fun, nonetheless. I ended up meeting a lot of people and having a blast all night. Once again, I am on the eve of my return to a real life, and again I wish Chicago would not end. If you want to go somewhere and meet lots of really, really great people, I would highly suggest Chicago. Tomorrow: I have to wake up early to catch my train. And I will slowly enter the life of schedules, deadlines, and people who know me. I wish I could bottle the stuff Chicago is made of. I would make a bundle. I will update when I get home tomorrow to let you know I made it safely. 10:19 p.m. - Thurs., May. 30, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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