The City of Broad Shoulders (via the City of Brotherly Love, damnit)
OK, the City of Broad Shoulders was good to me.
But the trip from hell (as it is now known) – was not so fun!
I am a professional logistician. Can any of you say that? LO-GIS-STI-TION. That means that I get goods from one place to another – all over the world – on a daily basis. I get them there on time and intact. I have seen every contingency that exists and take into consideration all things that “could” happen and plan for ALL things that “may” happen.
But Saturday, was not to be the day when I was in charge of the world.
I should have known.
We left for New Orleans at 8am for a 11:25am flight. Plenty of time to drive 100 miles and get some breakfast as well.
That was before the tanker full of chemicals spilled on I 10. Shut both sides of the interstate down and they rerouted the busiest road in America around the lake, through the lower 9th ward and St. Bernard Parish – you know, the place the hurricane completely wiped off the face of the earth…………
Took 5 hours to get to the airport – so the 2 hour flight to Chicago was now officially an adventure.
Finally found another flight……………..to Philadelphia, then a lay over and FINALLY on to Chicago.
So instead of getting in at 1:30, we got there at 8:30.
Figured our foray to the House of Blues to spend the evening with Al Green was toasted but we hopped a cab and checked into the hotel. Met some of our other friends there (yea, of course, we had the tickets because we were going to be the first ones there!) and went straight to the HOB.
Fate finally smiled as the Reverend had not taken the stage yet. So after purchasing a cold beer, we snuck to the front of the stage and eagerly awaited Al’s arrival.
And we were not to be disappointed. Al took the stage and blew through a very hearty set of an hour with is 13 piece band – which did not include the very cool girl backup singers and the gay male dancer boys.
The show was very good and we all left knowing that we had gotten to see a slice of America passed and we felt much better for it.
Then came the 2 hour field trip to try to find somewhere to eat. We did it, but it entailed much walking and going into many places that were still drinking but not eating.
Chicago ain’t New York because apparently it does sleep!
Anyway, got a little sleep and got up on Sunday to the Chicago Tribune – what a treat for us country boys. 4 hours of reading a newspaper. Big Ass Newspaper!!!
After some brunch, we hopped a cab down to the Magnificent Mile to stroll around and enrich our cultural stores. It seemed that everyone in the free world was doing the same thing but it was very cool. I’m sure that you people that live there – or in any other huge metropolis take that stuff for granted, but for us that only do that every once in a while, it was very cool.
Especially the Apple Store – talk about culture!
So we headed to one of those “famous” Chicago Pizza places where you eat a slice of a pie that makes you feel like you’ve been run over by a truck. Three inches thick with cheese and shit. One was enough for me. I’ll stick to my thin stuff.
Excitement was building and we decided, like most old men, that we would go take a nap before we went to see Bruce.
So we did!
And then about 6:30 we boarded the shuttle to the United Center. Got off and immediately saw the po-po throw some poor black boy to the concrete and hand-cuff him. Don’t know what he did, but they took him down with extreme prejudice.
Went inside, nice arena – by the way (the house that Jordan built?). Took our seats and met our neighbors (which included a very excited, retarded dancing midget but that’s another story) and settled in for the show.
Bruce was about 45 minutes late, but when he took the stage, it was as if Jesus came back to a Pentacostal Prayer Meeting.
He ripped right into Radio Nowhere and commenced to tearing the joint up.
Here’s the set list:
Radio Nowhere
No Surrender
Lonesome Day
Gypsy Biker
Magic
Reason to Believe
Adam Raised a Cain
She’s The One
Livin’ in the Future
The Promised Land
Your Own Worst Enemy
Backstreets
Cadillac Ranch
Devil’s Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands
Encore:
Girls In Their Summer Clothes
Thundercrack
Born To Run
Dancing in the Dark
American Land
I’ve been to more concerts than I can remember – but this one was amazing. The guitar solo’s on Gypsy Biker were as good as anything I’ve ever heard. When he stared to play Born to Run, I swear the entire arena hit another gear.
It was simply amazing. I left feeling very satisfied.
I enjoyed the show. I enjoyed the trip to Little Italy for some THIN crust pizza after the show. I enjoyed it all.
So thank you Chicago, for a wonderful time. Thank you Bruce for being Amazing. Thank you Al for still being alive. Thank you my friends, for being so fun to be with.
But most of all – thank you, my love, for allowing boys to be boys.
I hope all of your weekends were equally as blessed as mine was!
Peace.
But the trip from hell (as it is now known) – was not so fun!
I am a professional logistician. Can any of you say that? LO-GIS-STI-TION. That means that I get goods from one place to another – all over the world – on a daily basis. I get them there on time and intact. I have seen every contingency that exists and take into consideration all things that “could” happen and plan for ALL things that “may” happen.
But Saturday, was not to be the day when I was in charge of the world.
I should have known.
We left for New Orleans at 8am for a 11:25am flight. Plenty of time to drive 100 miles and get some breakfast as well.
That was before the tanker full of chemicals spilled on I 10. Shut both sides of the interstate down and they rerouted the busiest road in America around the lake, through the lower 9th ward and St. Bernard Parish – you know, the place the hurricane completely wiped off the face of the earth…………
Took 5 hours to get to the airport – so the 2 hour flight to Chicago was now officially an adventure.
Finally found another flight……………..to Philadelphia, then a lay over and FINALLY on to Chicago.
So instead of getting in at 1:30, we got there at 8:30.
Figured our foray to the House of Blues to spend the evening with Al Green was toasted but we hopped a cab and checked into the hotel. Met some of our other friends there (yea, of course, we had the tickets because we were going to be the first ones there!) and went straight to the HOB.
Fate finally smiled as the Reverend had not taken the stage yet. So after purchasing a cold beer, we snuck to the front of the stage and eagerly awaited Al’s arrival.
And we were not to be disappointed. Al took the stage and blew through a very hearty set of an hour with is 13 piece band – which did not include the very cool girl backup singers and the gay male dancer boys.
The show was very good and we all left knowing that we had gotten to see a slice of America passed and we felt much better for it.
Then came the 2 hour field trip to try to find somewhere to eat. We did it, but it entailed much walking and going into many places that were still drinking but not eating.
Chicago ain’t New York because apparently it does sleep!
Anyway, got a little sleep and got up on Sunday to the Chicago Tribune – what a treat for us country boys. 4 hours of reading a newspaper. Big Ass Newspaper!!!
After some brunch, we hopped a cab down to the Magnificent Mile to stroll around and enrich our cultural stores. It seemed that everyone in the free world was doing the same thing but it was very cool. I’m sure that you people that live there – or in any other huge metropolis take that stuff for granted, but for us that only do that every once in a while, it was very cool.
Especially the Apple Store – talk about culture!
So we headed to one of those “famous” Chicago Pizza places where you eat a slice of a pie that makes you feel like you’ve been run over by a truck. Three inches thick with cheese and shit. One was enough for me. I’ll stick to my thin stuff.
Excitement was building and we decided, like most old men, that we would go take a nap before we went to see Bruce.
So we did!
And then about 6:30 we boarded the shuttle to the United Center. Got off and immediately saw the po-po throw some poor black boy to the concrete and hand-cuff him. Don’t know what he did, but they took him down with extreme prejudice.
Went inside, nice arena – by the way (the house that Jordan built?). Took our seats and met our neighbors (which included a very excited, retarded dancing midget but that’s another story) and settled in for the show.
Bruce was about 45 minutes late, but when he took the stage, it was as if Jesus came back to a Pentacostal Prayer Meeting.
He ripped right into Radio Nowhere and commenced to tearing the joint up.
Here’s the set list:
Radio Nowhere
No Surrender
Lonesome Day
Gypsy Biker
Magic
Reason to Believe
Adam Raised a Cain
She’s The One
Livin’ in the Future
The Promised Land
Your Own Worst Enemy
Backstreets
Cadillac Ranch
Devil’s Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands
Encore:
Girls In Their Summer Clothes
Thundercrack
Born To Run
Dancing in the Dark
American Land
I’ve been to more concerts than I can remember – but this one was amazing. The guitar solo’s on Gypsy Biker were as good as anything I’ve ever heard. When he stared to play Born to Run, I swear the entire arena hit another gear.
It was simply amazing. I left feeling very satisfied.
I enjoyed the show. I enjoyed the trip to Little Italy for some THIN crust pizza after the show. I enjoyed it all.
So thank you Chicago, for a wonderful time. Thank you Bruce for being Amazing. Thank you Al for still being alive. Thank you my friends, for being so fun to be with.
But most of all – thank you, my love, for allowing boys to be boys.
I hope all of your weekends were equally as blessed as mine was!
Peace.
posted by KK at 10:11 AM
4 Comments:
I felt cheated that you didn't call from the concert as promised. But, then I noticed he did not play "I'm on fire" which would have been your cue to call me.
What a perfect weekend! The Reverend and the Boss? I'm happily jealous for you.
So very jealous...
I really need to see the Boss some time.
Having spent 14 years in Chicago (or at least in the suburbs) - including my K-12 years, I should technically label myself "from Chicago." But that has just never felt right to me because I never felt as though I bonded with the place. For one, it was way too Republican in the Northwest burbs where I grew up.
Nonetheless, one of the few Chicago things that has stayed with me all these years is a deep love for their deep dish pizza! Where did you go? I'm not even a conaissuer of the best places, but I would gladly pay big money for a slice of Gino's or Lou Malnati's!
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