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I just got back from a five day “business trip” to The Windy City and had a great time. I was tied up at a conference for three of those days but was able to use the other two for a little exploring — which was great, but not nearly enough. I wasn’t able to get up to Wrigleyville, or explore many of the neighborhoods outside of the downtown area. Maybe next time. I was, however, able to cover downtown well.

Saturday:
I arrive at the hotel and get checked in around 4pm. I desperately flip channels trying to catch the Cal vs. Oregon game but am forced to watch it via ticker. After the game, I explore the area a bit. McCormick Place is huge. I hike up a small hill that gives a great view of the entire convention center on one side, and Soldier Field on the other. I make my way back to the room to hop online for some quick dinner and drinks research before meeting up with some fellow Yahoos. We end up at Clark Street Ale House, which had a great tap selection, but no food, so based on a recommendation from the bartender we head to an Irish pub/restaurant a few doors down. My bangers and mash were ok, not great, but enough to hold me over for a trip back to the ale house for some drinking. Trying to stick with regional beers I had a Three Floyd’s Gumballhead (a hopped up wheat ale), a Three Floyd’s Alpha King, a Sand Creek Wild Ride IPA and a Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald (an excellent American porter). Next we wander through downtown a bit and make one final pit-stop at a sports bar for some wings and another beer before calling it a night.

Sunday:
I took a nice stroll from my hotel at McCormick Place loosely following the Lake Michigan shoreline all the way to the river. Sites included Soldier Field, lots of sail boats in the harbor, a nice strip of lake-side park with cool environmental awareness art, Buckingham Fountain (think Married With Children), and a great view of the downtown skyline. At the river I cut in a few blocks so I could head back through Millennium Park checking out the Pavilion, the Bean, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the rest of Grant Park. At this point I was ready for some food and begun my search for a true Chicago Dog — which turned out to be much harder than I anticipated. In fact, as beautiful as the parks and lake views were on this part of my walk, I really wasn’t impressed with this part of downtown. It was filled with national chain restaurants and tourist traps, and not the good, local spots I was searching for. Just as I was about to give up I stumbled upon Hackneys, which I vaguely remembered from some Food Network show for having great burgers. I ordered the Bluecheeseburger (an original Hackney Burger generously topped with blue cheese). It was fantastic. What made things even better was being able to order it in from a neighboring pub while enjoying a few pints of Three Floyd’s Alpha King and watching the Cardinals beat the Steelers with a couple of very nice kids from Pittsburgh. Full and tired I took a cab the last few miles back to the hotel. Some pre-conference activities filled up the rest of my night which was capped with a late-night room service Italian Beef.

Monday-Wednesday:
Conference, conference and more conference. Very long days of sessions, and meetings, and parties. I will make a special note on the official event party Tuesday evening which while filled with corporate party clichés was actually a lot of fun. It was in a huge open room at the convention center and included tons of free food, beer, wine, and soda, a skate park (two quarter pipes with a table-top ramp in the middle) with four bikers and two skaters doing tricks for our entertainment, a lounge rock band, a Segway obstacle course, an oxygen bar, a dozen or so Wii and Xbox consoles, an interactive art wall, breakdancers, poker tables (complete with dealers), and the Deloreon.

Wednesday Night:
Determined to have a great hot dog before I leave I make my way to where the internets told me was best dog in town, Portillos. It did not disappoint, I had a great Chicago style dog with everything, and a Maxwell Street polish sausage with onions just for good measure. The after dinner plan was to catch a cab to The Map Room (Chicago’s highest rated beer bar) for a couple drinks then to the Goose Island Brewery in Wrigleyville to have a snack and watch the Cubs/D’Backs playoff opener. I meet up with my buddy Henry and we head to our first stop. The place is great — a solid draft line accompanied by an awesome bottle selection and great people on both sides of the bar. We end up chatting (and drinking) clear through the game never making it to Wrigleyville. After many, many new (to me) and great beers I catch a cab back to the hotel to crash.

Thursday:
The day is slow to start after a wild night but the last required stop on my agenda is for deep-dish pizza. I walk down to Giordano’s which always came up near the top of best-of lists. This, for me, was the biggest bust of the trip. Maybe it was the hangover, or that I ordered the lunch special individual size, but it was disappointing. The dough tasted like a hard, bland, biscuit, the sauce, while good, was all I could taste due to the sheer quantity of it, and the cheese sat like a lump at the bottom on top of a very thin bed of spinach. Oh well, they can’t all be great. So if we’re keeping score, Chicago wins on hot dogs (although NY has great dogs too) and NY takes the top spot for pizza.

All in all it was a great trip, but I am glad to be home to Lydia and Tiger and my great Brooklyn neighborhood.

(pictures coming soon) 

(Leviticus 19:18)

I apologize for quoting from the King James Bible, rumor has it Shakespeare may have helped translate that version. Plus ‘thy’ sounds way cooler than ‘your.’

I was hesitant to go to the sports bar alone tonight (where else to watch Selection Sunday?). I wasn’t sure if it would look like I was a drunk, a loser, or there to pick up guys. Dudes can pull off drinking alone at a bar, but I didn’t think I could. But I went anyway, and I sat next to some friendly looking people, hoping they wouldn’t give me any trouble.

I asked the bartender for ‘something local on tap,’ a la Curtis. He suggested a Brooklyn lager, which I know Curtis would disapprove of, and just as I was about to ask ‘what else?,’ the lady next to me said ‘give her the Chelsea.’

Before the mug even hit the bar, I had been introduced to the helpful patron, Julie, and her two friends, Mel and Mark. The bartender was Jason, whom Mark described as ‘the kind of guy who’d bail you out of jail.’ They were a lively bunch and made me feel very welcome.

I endured some shame as a Pac-10 alum among Big East and Big Ten fans, but felt vindicated when the Pac-10 got six tourney berths. Not important. Anyway…

It wasn’t long before I met the weekend manager of the bar, Lewis. When I told him I was from California, most recently Los Angeles, he asked if my parents were porn stars. That’s a new one. I expected ‘surfers’ or ‘movie producers,’ but not that. Caught me off-guard but was quite hilarious. He then proceeded to tell us about the time he hit his head on a pole on the subway and walked to the hospital holding his bloody face. Bizarre encounter, yes, but I swear this was the friendliest group of people I’ve ever met. I lived in California for 24 years and never had an experience that has made me so grateful for the kindness of strangers.

They encouraged me to come back and hang out soon, and are all very excited to meet Curtis. Can’t wait to take him there. I’ll certainly be back.