It was a beautiful day: sunny and warm (86f), but very low humidity. First day without the kid in forever (he's at summer camp for a month), I think I enjoyed it too much. We have an amazing public space in this city, Millennium Park -
This sculpture, Cloudgate (Chicagoans refer to it as The Bean), is awesome inside and out -
The bridge and amphitheater were designed by my favorite architect, Frank Gehry!
And the awesome fountain to cool off in...
Anyway, I love this place. Best thing my taxes ever went to. I decided to take my ebike down to hear a classical concert on the lawn of the amphitheater, I stuffed my backpack full: coffee mug, 2 beers (Fat Tire) a grape soda, and a fleece blanket along with my locks and chain. I put the backpack in my front basket, and strapped my heavy-duty folding chair's case to my back. I was traveling heavy. I had the bright idea of taking the streets instead of the bike paths. In rush hour traffic. WTF was I thinking? There was no room on downtown streets to even peddle between cars. I finally get there and move my bike against a wall out of the way, unpacked my chair, and started to take shit out of my pack. Next thing I know security is telling me that I can't park my bike on the lawn, I have to move it up about up about 10 feet to the concrete. No problem, done. Just when I get unpacked, more security comes up to say that I can't park there, either. I asked for a supervisor, and an older lady came up to discuss. I pointed out that there are wheelchairs and huge strollers everywhere, how does my bike against a wall pose a problem? She told me that I could move back about 30 feet to a section of the lawn that had a short gate that I could lock my bike to on the other side. I thanked her (Laura), and did just that. Just when I had finished and sat down, ANOTHER guard told me that I can't do that. I Rosa Parked his ass, and told him that his supervisor instructed me to do this. He said I got bad info., and as I was telling him to go away, another security girl rushed up and set him straight. He didn't seem to like that. The security girl was really cute, smiley and talkative, and I thanked her and told her she was sweet. We spoke a little more, and I decided to ask for her number. She gave it to me, and that felt good. I plan to fuck the shit outta this little black girl. People were much more deferential to the music this time, so I had a really nice time catching a buzz from my beers in the sunshine and the warm, summer breeze in almost absolute silence. After the concert, I stopped at Oak street beach to get high, and to watch the hunnies bounce around playing volleyball, a nearby couple told me it smelled great, so I repacked the bowl and passed it around. They asked if they could buy some as they were leaving, so I gave them the rest of my nugget and my number so we could hook up later. This may turn out to be a great summer...