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A long, rainy, construction zone-y drive and I’m home at last in Gainesville.  I’m always glad to be able to say “been there”, but Hilton Head, South Carolina isn’t a place I’d care to go again.  I’ll explain why tomorrow.  Right now I’m recording the Olympics and going to sleep.

I can scarcely believe that it is the first of August, the swelteringest month of all the year.

Naturally, August 1 affords me a sense of relief, since it means that I have but one week left of Summer B at the University.  In retrospect, three classes was a big mistake.  I’ll do well–straight As, maybe–but it has come at a high cost: neglect of friends, chores, television, hobbies, etc.  I would say that the eye of the storm has just passed, though, since I have already turned in two of the four big papers I have due before next Friday.  The last two, however, may be the worst two, since for one of them–Age of Johnson–I haven’t the slightest idea what to write about.

The end of the semester also coincides with the start of the 2008 Summer Olympics, which I have looked forward to with great anticipation.  I love track and field, diving, men’s gymnastics, women’s beach volleyball, and, for some reason, rhythmic gymnastics, with the ribbon and the ball.  Each successive Olympic games, too, I am more and more amazed at the improved television technology.  In Athens they debuted a freeze-frame effect during the diving competition, where you could see the athlete’s entire dive in still pictures; it was fantastic.  This will also be the first Olympics I watch in HDTV, though just barely, since the TV here has ruined my life, with its pronounced white line across the top third of the screen, above which every shape is distorted beyond recognition.  Alas, this line falls precisely at eye-level for most human faces on screen.  It actually makes watching television an unpleasant experience.

I don’t recall if I mentioned it before, but I briefly saw Sandi last weekend when she came to town for the afternoon.  School work prevented me from spending any degree of quality time with her, and since most of the little time we were together was spent consuming Satchel’s Pizza, I felt like I didn’t really get to catch up with her as I’d have liked.  She and Jeff went to Prince Edward Island this summer–making stops in New York City on the way there and back.  This is the first summer in several years that I haven’t been able to make it down to see them in Miami, which is sadder now, since they bought a house within the last several months and it has a swimming pool!  In any case, what I don’t understand is why I didn’t bother to get a picture of Sandi, Kathleen and Steve when we had lunch together last Saturday.  I took a picture of Kathleen’s pizza, and the menu, but not my friends.  My constant reading and writing has me off my game.

Last, but not least, the flowers in the garden are all blooming–at least the ones that haven’t been eaten by caterpillars–which is beautiful.

Chicago is fantastic in every way.

We left Gainesville on Tuesday morning before sunrise.  In fact, I probably slept only three hours the night before, and Miriam didn’t sleep at all.  We were at Gainesville Regional Airport by 5 AM, and in Chicago by 10 AM (Central).  Midway is apparently the neglected step-child of Chicago airports.  We took a shuttle bus into the city, and arrived at our hotel hungry.

To solve that problem we started walking, past the busy hot dog vendor in the plaza downstairs from us, and ate instead in Millennium Park, which is a magical place.  Many others were there to picnic as well.  The weather was perfect - in the low 70s and breezy with white fluffy clouds over head.  As we ate our hot dogs we listened to an orchestra rehearse Wagner.  From there we crossed the gardens and Grant Park, stopping at Buckingham Fountain (which is enormous), before arriving at the Field Museum.  I had visited the Field Museum when I was a child, but that was so long ago I can recall very little of it.  I doubt I loved it as much then, too.  Everything was amazing, including the T. rex, the plant and animal dioramas, the cases of minerals, and the building itself.  They even had a temporary exhibit about mythical creatures, including the Unicorn, and I got to touch a narwhal horn which was once presented as having come from the mythical beast.  As Jeff might say, I harnessed the power of the Unicorn.

After all that walking we stopped and had delicious iced novelties at a stand along Lake Michigan.  It was the best snow cone in history.  For dinner we took a cab up to the tourist-centric Navy Pier, but I was determined to ride a huge Ferris Wheel, and we did.  It was great.  The moon was rising over the lake, the skyline of the city was spectacular.  It was one of life’s perfect moments.

I spent most of Wednesday with Burt, who, unfortunately couldn’t come to town by train, and had to drive instead, spending what must have been a fortune to park.  But we had lunch together, then took the subway to the Shedd Aquarium and Adler Planetarium.  At closing time we went out and sat on some steps by the harbor.  The weather was splendid, but it was as bright as could be.  The city looked majestic.  Once Miriam was finished with her work activities we all had dinner at Giordano’s, right around the corner from our hotel.  It was delicious, and filling.  Burt had to be heading home, but Miriam and I walked over to Millennium Park again to listen to an orchestral concert.  We heard Respighi’s Pines of Rome.  There were so many people out enjoying the evening, and we decided to do the same, once again visiting the popular sculpture Cloud Gate, which everyone seems to love.

I had the next day to myself, and I spent the morning walking around the Chicago River and taking photos of the architecture.  Our hotel was right near the Wrigley Building and the Tribune Building, and just a stone’s throw from Marina City. Then I rode a bus down to the Museum of Science and Industry, which is on the south side of the city.  Along the way the bus passed by an amazing number of old townhouses with fabulous steps and doorways.  I was impressed how even at such a distance from the Loop district, great numbers of people live in high-rise buildings, each of which must have impressive views of the city skyline or the lake. I had been to the Museum of Science and Industry when I was a child, and I remember at the time looking through the periscope of the U-505 submarine and seeing an old car parked in an alley.  They’ve since moved the captured Nazi vessel to its own subterranean wing of the complex. The tiniest part of the exhibit made the biggest impact on me.  It was a metal identification badge with an eagle on a swastika, above which are the words “GOTT MIT UNS”.  What a disgusting claim.  The museum has the largest, and therefore coolest model train layout I have ever seen.  I played with it for a long time.  Proof that it is a big museum: the 727 suspended above the aforementioned train layout and full size locomotive. I stared at the Foucault pendulum for a long time trying to understand it, to no avail.  Admission was free; bus fare was only $2, and we passed Soldier Field on the way back.  In the evening we went out to dinner, then explored the theater district en route to see Wicked at the Oriental Theater.  It was a fancy place, and I was a bit surprised that I actually enjoyed the show a great deal.  Credit must be given to the lead actresses, especially Annaleigh Ashford who played Glinda.  I can’t imagine enjoying anyone more in the role (except, perhaps, Kristen Chenoweth, but that’s no surprise).  I have seen video of other actresses in the role, and I know I would not have liked the show as much had I seen someone else in the part. In any case, the story and feel were far enough removed from The Wizard of Oz that I never found myself comparing the two, which is good because nothing could live up to that standard, particularly Arlen and Harburg’s music.

Friday, the first day of summer, promised to be one of the best of my life.  I spend the morning doing more walking around, up Michigan Avenue with its lovely planters to the old Water Tower; along the river across its bridges; and to the Merchandise Mart. What amazes me about Chicago is how an Art Deco building like the Merchandise Mart can coexist with the nearby Gothic, French Renaissance, Structural Expressionist, Beaux Arts, Neoclassical and Chicago Style architecture.  Even the horribly ugly Daley Center is rendered less offensive by its proximity to much handsomer structures.  All I can say about the afternoon’s pilgrimage to Wrigley Field is that it was a dream come true.  It seems smaller in person, but is beyond a doubt the perfect place to watch baseball.  For the record, I paid almost $180 for two tickets in section 240, at the end of row 13; the paid attendance was 41,106; the Cubs beat the White Sox 4-3 off a home-run in the bottom of the 9th.  I was glad to call my dad during “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”.  We beat the crowd back to the Addison station and made our way via bus to a store called Penelope’s in a neighborhood near Wicker Park.  The shop girl explained the abundance of young people was due to the relatively low rent (her three-bedroom was $1,000/mo.)  Miriam bought some nice new clothes.  We rode the train back to the Loop and visited the Art Institute, where we saw many wonderful sculptures and famous paintings.  They even had furniture.  We got in one last evening walk before a late dinner.  The city still felt very safe at eleven o’clock, and the weather was cool and the sidewalks busy.

The next morning we met up with an old friend of Miriam’s, drove through the downtown one last time then had a delightful time at the Brookfield Zoo (gallery coming soon).  We stayed Saturday night at a great hotel nearer to O’Hare.  It was a much better value than the considerably more expensive Hyatt Regency on Wacker Drive. We spent all of Sunday travelling home, including what seemed like an eternity at Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta.  I was sitting on the wrong side of the airplane to get a good shot of Gainesville as were were descending, but I got this shot of Waldo Road.  We arrived home at six o’clock on Sunday evening after leaving our hotel at 6:00 AM that morning.  It was a tough day.

I love Chicago, and if it weren’t ludicrously cold for months on end I would want to live there.

Gainesville is in the grips of Pop Mayhem this week, and in spite of my general avoidance of all things social/nocturnal, I actually got out twice to see shows and old friends. My oldest friend Steve (file photo) had quite a bit of success in a band called Brittle Stars with mutual friends Josh and Dan and a singer named Estelle. I attended their very first show in the summer of 1998, but moved away soon thereafter, missing every other performance until their last, on New Year’s Eve 2000 (i.e., going into 2001) at The Wayward Council on University Avenue. So, I sadly missed the heyday of the Brittle Stars, and to this day have never even heard their album (released on the Shelflife label). So, what nice news to hear that the Brittle Stars would reunite for two shows in Gainesville, going so far as to fly Estelle in from her current home in Tel-Aviv.

On Wednesday evening Brittle Stars played at The Wayward Council (photo gallery), and in spite of that store’s tiny size and poor climate control, it’s really a pleasant place to see music, because there is no separation between the band and the audience. In spite of several years’ hiatus, they sounded much like I remember them, and the show, though only a half hour in length, was charming. In fact, that’s the best word I can think of to describe Brittle Stars. They aren’t a band of sophisticated musicians (though Steve is undoubtedly the most naturally talented guitarist I know), but the music doesn’t demand virtuosity. In fact, on the contrary, it demands subtlety and a kind of endearing simplicity. As though to emphasize the notion that you’re listening to the songs and the feelings they evoke, and not hollow showmanship or pompous affectations, the songs are almost all under three minutes. They start, give you a pretty melody and finish quickly, barely giving you enough time to absorb what you’ve heard before another tune begins. It’s a refreshing contrast to the haughtily ostentatious bands that offer all manner of pomp and pageantry, but little reward, and certainly nothing approaching a genuine song. The Avant-garde is all well in good for a momentary diversion, but in the end I think it demonstrates a certain contempt for the audience.

The Brittle Stars’ second show this week was on Thursday night at Common Grounds, and it was very well attended, even at a vulgar $11 per ticket. The audience was affectionate and the band sounded well. There was even a massive rock-out at the end with the band augmented by a tambourine and Josh’s lovely wife Tanya played bass so Dan could get his guitar on. We saw lots of friends new and old, which was confusing for me, since I recognized faces, but found it hard to recall the context of my memories. Jeff and Sandi deserve credit for driving an unreasonable 12 hours round trip to watch Thursday’s show. I headed home earlier than Miriam, but she stayed and had a marvelous time, which I think boosted her spirits.

Alas, on Monday it’s all back to normal.

I have been deriving a great deal of enjoyment from Miriam’s participation in the Gainesville Roller Rebels. Sure, it is exciting watching fast skating, but another pleasant result of her involvement in the team is that we now have an expanded pool of friends.

Making friends has never been particularly easy for me, since, in general, I hate leaving the house. I have maintained steady, long-lasting relationships with a small number of intimate friends, but several of them have moved away, and, though we communicate and see each other when we can, time with them is still scarce. So, to have access to a team of very nice people who enjoy having fun is a wonderful luxury, especially since I didn’t have to do any of the work of going out and meeting them on my own; they are Miriam’s teammates.

One such teammate came over last night with her beau and we watched a TV show I had never heard of called It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Ruby Typhoon is a fan of the program and has the DVDs, so we ordered pizza and watched five or six episodes in a row, and it was a hilarious delight. What amused me most was how no opportunity to be offensive was wasted. The program involves three buddies who own a dive bar and have assorted misadventures. It seems very low on budget, but rich in laughs.

Last week we had a visit from two other derby girls, Matriarch and Terror A. Part, who insisted that there be arm wrestling.

Meanwhile, I am continuing to take portraits of the GRR girls, and that is fun and I am endlessly impressed with their creativity. Demonomia came last Tuesday, and Ruby Typhoon did her makeup and hair. We use a simple black paper backdrop and I have the most basic flash and white umbrella, but the pictures always turn out very well. Demonomia didn’t have a ton of ideas for poses, but she’s good on skates and very flexible, and her pictures are great. Diamonds and Rust is next in line, and probably more to follow, leading up to the GRR’s first local bout some time in July.