Weeks 38-40: Garfield Park Conservatory, A Debut, Failed Attempt, and A Taste for the Arts Gala

April 15 – April 21, 2012

Nearly a year ago, the Garfield Park Conservatory sustained extensive damage from a hail storm. If you were in Chicago, perhaps you remember your car being dinged from bumper to bumper, your eyes searching, eagerly peering through the window in an attempt to inspect the damage you knew awaited. Or, perhaps you were like me, inspecting the golf ball sized masses that had accumulated on your deck, in awe of its size and quantity. Campaigns to raise funds to replace the damaged glass littered the city for months. Shards of glass imbedded in soil, fauna and walkways. A difficult and saddening mess, to say the least. Arriving at the Conservatory, early on Sunday morning, I was unsure what awaited. Entering the main house, I look up to discover panes covering trees. If only temporary, a solution and shelter now exist.

persian pond chihuly

I haven’t been here in years. Not since I moved to Chicago over 12 years ago. I almost slap myself for not attending regularly, for it is quite a magnificent treat. Despite it’s location in a not so appealing neighborhood, this gem shines brightly against the boarded up buildings and crack addicts on the corner. As I enter, the smell of dirt and plants impede my nostrils. I walk the ambling paths through Palm House and into the Fern Room observing the carefully manicured and cared for fauna. Each room bursting with color, greens and yellows. I search for the lagoon to only find it drained with a man in wading boots hosing it down. I guess it’s a cleaning day. I’m a little disappointed. I take my time, it’s not crowded, and walk slowly, occasionally sitting to enjoy and breathe the air. I am remarkably at ease. Often catching myself wondering how such a place exists within a city. I survey the area also wondering where I might stow a hammock, a hideout, to only later bask in its wonder for an evening all to myself, under the shade of palms, trumpet and Boojum trees.

April 22 – April 28, 2012

A zillion things happened this week, unfortunately none of them being a 52LC adventure. Hey, a girls gotta work. I did however make my television debut which I hope will excuse my lack of time and ambition this week. I refrained from breathing through the entire segment. I may have set a world record.

April 29 – May 5, 2012

I knew there would be a problem. Gray sky’s, clouds and cool air. All factors for an unsuccessful trip to the Sears Tower Skydeck (This Willis Tower business is just nonsense. It will always be the Sears Tower to me). I was hopeful though. I tied my shoes and walked vigorously to the train station. Standing on the platform, chilled and puzzled, I saw the fog rolling in. Shit. Still hopeful, I board the train, transfer to the brown line at Belmont and exit at Quincy. Double shit. More fog. I stand below, looking up, its peak covered. The top, not visible.

the view from the top…what view?

I enter the lobby, for some reason thinking my arrival will part the fog. A Skydeck employee informs me “It’s zero visibility up there today. Your tickets are good for one year.” For some reason, I’m still torn. I got up early, took the train downtown on a Saturday morning only to be disappointed. At this moment Katie enters and talks some sense into me. After a brief deliberation, with little to no success on a plan b, we decide food will help. We walk to Michigan Avenue and cozy up in a booth at The Gage. A bottle of champagne, baked dutch baby pancake, rock shrimp a la plancha? Okay. It’s only 10am, but okay. Today’s adventure was a fail, but even good things can come out of a failed attempt. I’ll be back Skydeck! I will see thee on a sunny and clear day. Until then, I will sip champagne and gorge myself. Cheers!

a suitable substitute

May 6 – May 12, 2012

Chicago Academy for the Arts 30th Anniversary Performance at the Harris Theater and A Taste for the Arts Gala! Now, this adventure may be a total cop-out considering I was required to attend. You see, this is where I work. BUT, in my defense, it was a coveted event in the city, tickets sold out! To begin, a performance of CAA students and alums at the Harris Theater, with Justin Tranter from the Semi-Precious Weapons nearly tearing the house down with his energy and charisma. I found myself on my feet, like all other patrons, as if at a real rock concert. Wait, this WAS a real rock concert. Amazing! After being wowed by my own students and our alums for over an hour, it was time to head upstairs to A Taste for the Arts!

Imagine, if you will, a room full of Chicago’s best chefs–in fact, these are Chicago’s “Top Chefs”—Rick Bayless, Stephanie Izzard, Takashi Yagihasi, Heather Terhune, to name a few, cooking up tasty delights for guests. Not to mention, you can stand at their table, speak to them and then eat their food. Now, had I been an actual guest of this event, as oppose to a worker bee, I would have made 3 turns around this room easily, inhaling all to be offered. However, since my obligations kept me busy throughout the evening, I had to have my husband grab me anything he could get his hands on. This included a space age, freeze-dried, truffle infused, crunchy mac-n-cheese from the hip chefs at Moto to a blissful shrimp type creation from Ms. Izzard, which pushed my eyelids closed and resulted in the release of satisfying moans.

To Summarize…

I’ve been busy and have found it difficult this past month to, not so much do the adventures, but to sit down and carefully craft a witty and irresistibly charming rant here for my loyal 52LC followers. Apologies. But, school is out. Summer is in. And 52LC has many exciting summer adventures planned. So, grab your suite, some sunscreen and lets get going!

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Week 22: Adler After Dark

November 13 – November 19, 2011

When I heard the Adler Planetarium had a monthly event called Adler After Dark, I was intrigued. From 6-10pm, guests have full access to the planetarium’s offerings. From exhibits to presentations, the opportunity to speak with scientists and astronomers, and even a DJ.  I have visited the museum campus many times to take in the best view of the skyline, and outside of a fundraiser for Ben’s organization, I had never spent any time at the Adler. In my hometown I often would escape to the planetarium for the Pink Floyd laser light show during my teens (yes, seriously) and was often subjected to its educational programs on school field trips. There was even that fateful day when leaving the planetarium on a freezing winter afternoon, my sister pushed me into the fountain. To this day she denies it, but I still suspect her. It couldn’t possibly be that I was standing too close to the edge and lost my balance. As I sat shivering in the backseat of my parents station wagon, I understood that the planetarium will forever be imbedded in my conscience. Good or bad, it was there. Forever. So, you can imagine my excitement to sit underneath the dome of the Adler and compare its offering to that of my childhood. Most times, when I think about our place in this world, our planet, our existence, I feel small. Discovered and undiscovered, in a galaxy among many galaxies, with infinite possibilities. I have often found myself staring at the sky wondering about what exists beyond our little planet.

million dollar view from the museum campus

We arrived at Adler promptly to discover that it was packed. People were excited, dare I say thrilled, to discuss science and learn more about our solar system. In turn, I too became excited. I pay my entrance fee of $17 and check my coat. What to see first? I consult the evenings agenda knowing a show is a must and select The Searcher which begins at 6:45pm. I consult my watch and discover there is plenty of time to get a cocktail. We wander through the maze of exhibits and enter the eating area to discover a DJ, a bar and very few people. The bar, empty. At this time, I am wondering what this says about me and my friends, that we bypass exhibits for cocktails. That thought it is fleeting.

(if you can’t see the video above, go to this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtREQjIoaws )

We then wander briefly through the exhibits before entering the sky theater for a journey through deep space. The exhibits look dated, but are educational. I try to put myself in the shoes of young child or a serious scientist and wonder “is this compelling?” I am not so sure. In an age of hands-on experiments and technology, this place is lacking a bit. Thankfully the show is about to start and we file into the theater to find our seats. The show begins and I am throughly enjoying the graphics, but confused by the story. It makes little sense and I am under the impression that the voice is an alien lost in space. Seems odd, but ok. To my disappointment, the musical accompaniment of Pink Floyd was completely overlooked as entertainment enhancement for this program. After 45 minutes it’s over, a bit nauseated by the special effects we leave, amble around a while longer, look at one another, look at our watches, look at each other again, and say “so, who’s hungry?” We decide we’ve had enough and locate the coat check.

the inner workings

During this adventure, a number of things surfaced:

1. Just because they tout cocktails and h’ordeurves doesn’t mean they’re included in the price.
2. Apparently there’s a lost alien floating around space looking for his planet and family, and his opinion of earth is very high.
3. Astronaut food is rubbish.

With that said, this adventure wasn’t terrible and it certainly had some high points. However, I think I got my fix and can once again go into planetarium hibernation. My visit to Adler confirmed two things: I can still enjoy a planetarium show, and two, I will continue to look up and wonder knowing the possibilities are endless.

Stay tuned for week 23 of 52LC. It’s cool baby, cool. 

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Week 19: Modern Vintage Chicago

October 23 – October 29, 2011

I didn’t think about what I would do if I got sick, or had an adventure fall through. I suppose I suppressed this thought early on in the process dismissing that anything or anyone would try to hold 52LC down. Sadly, both of these things occurred this week. An original adventure was ousted due to weather and timing, and yours truly came down with a terrible cold. Lying on the couch for two days, surrounded by tissues, sneezing uncontrollably, and coated in Vicks Vapor Rub, I did not know how or when this weeks adventure was going to happen. I knew I had to do it, but did not have the strength or ambition to do much of anything besides watch a marathon of NCIS in my pajamas. Moving from the bed to the couch left me winded, and vague mumblings of help were heard by Ben who quickly fetched juice and NyQuil as needed. I was a mess.

Like my sickness, my adventure this week blew. It was not so much an adventure as it was riddled with disappointment. I am uncertain if my feelings were cause from the actual experience itself, or my inability to walk ten paces without needing to sit down and catch my breath. I was not hiking or exerting any real physical effort. I simply attended Modern Vintage Chicago, also known as the Randolph Street Market. Located in Journeymen Plumbers Hall in the West Loop. In the summer, this event is quite wonderful. The parking lot full of vintage goods, anything from fedoras, to handmade furniture, and recycled typewriters from the 50’s. There’s even live music, a coffee bar, and some delicious nibbles to keep you going. The vintage market also takes place in the summer, but inside and on a smaller scale. Consider this its fall predecessor, moved indoors, engaging vintage proprietors from near and far to sell their wares to city folk. Upon entering you are charged a hefty $10 admission fee. Seriously? Already annoyed. Moving inside you are greeted with the faint smells of something that can only be described as boiled brussel sprouts. Now, I am congested, barely able to breathe through my nose, so feel free to declare me an unreliable source. Feel free to take it upon yourself. I dare you.

searching

Before I continue, I must tell you that I went into this adventure with an open mind. Despite my lethargy, despite my uncertainty, I was thrilled to get out of the house. Break the cabin fever I was suffering from. But this, I must admit, was a poor choice. Sifting through old clothing, jewelry, hats and shoes, was definitely not an uplifting experience after days of couch surfing. In reality, it was depressing. Sure, if you are really and truly into vintage, this is probably your Harold meet Maude. Me, I wouldn’t call myself vintage obsessed or minded even, but on occasion I will happily search for and wear a beautifully tailored princess coat or mildly used pair of Ferragamo’s (the ultimate find). In fact, my wardrobe is littered with vintage finds from over the years, which I happily don on the appropriate occasion. Today, I just was not in the mood to sift through countless layers of wool, polyester and sequins to discover that single item that would make the trip worth while. Today, I had no will or patience for such endeavors. Three floors of vintage goods could not tempt me, nor encourage me. I felt lost and confused, and I don’t think it was the cold medicine.

disenchanted. my face says it all

On the top floor, between the mink stoles and the overly used patent leather purses I discovered the source of the horrible smell. To my surprise, it was not boiled brussel sprouts, but rigatoni with vodka sauce, chili, and linguine. A bizarre menu for this kind of event, not to mention no place to sit and eat said menu items. The Fancy Cafe, as it was called, was none other than three folding tables and some crock pots. What happened to a good ol’ hotdog or popcorn? Seems more fitting for this occasion, but what do I know. Somehow through all the snot this stench infiltrated my sinus passage and redeemed my faith in the over-the-counter cold medicine. It must be working. We move along and enter the last room. Everything looks the same. I can’t tell one peplum coat from the next and the rows and rows of sequined jackets only remind me of a bad Liza Minnelli outfit. I had to get out of there. Thirty minutes. Done. This is all we could manage.

I would like to tell you that I scored the most amazing find, but I didn’t. I would like to tell you that I will be back when I feel better, but I won’t. It’s unfair really. I am not sure Modern Vintage stood a chance in my condition. I was not entirely myself today, and had I been, I wonder if my experience would have been better. In truth, it most likely would have, but I am still unsure that I would have enjoyed it as much to report differently here. One could argue that I was doped up on cold meds. I was. One could say I didn’t stay long enough or look hard enough. It’s true. I hardly gave it a chance, but I just couldn’t do it.

le creperie happiness

I felt defeated and Ben could tell. He too was disenchanted by this adventure. Hungry and weary, we depart Plumbers Hall in search for food. We decide Le Creperie is just the place and head north. Salad maison and french onion soup for me. Escargot and seafood crepe for Ben. Slowly things begin to fall back into place. Readers, I am sorry for this vague and pathetic attempt at an adventure this week. I fully admit that I could have done better, had I felt better. I promise to rest up and rally the citizens of Melissa and kick this illness out. For now, I sleep. I pretend Modern Vintage never happened. Close my eyes and wait for my next real adventure in the city.

Is the ghost of Al Capone lurking around town? Join me for week 19 of 52LC to find out.

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Week Ciao: A Three Week Hiatus Update

Goodbye Chicago! So long, farewell. A girl just needs to get away sometimes. Sometimes she needs to go far, far away. Europe is nice. Germany and Italy to be precise. Three weeks you say? Yes. 52LC will be on vacation. However, I will do so by leaving you 3 weekly adventures packed into one.

I feel it important to maintain the integrity of my blog, my cause, my mission. However, I also feel it necessary for my sanity and overall well-being to literally flee this country. There’s nothing a beer garden, doner kabob, vino, and the ocean can’t cure. Enjoy this weeks adventures and be patient. I’ll be back. Maybe. Or perhaps I’ll begin a new blog in Italy titled 52FirstChances: One girl, one country, lots of chances.

Ciao!

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