Day 3: Sunday November 7, 2004

Detroit to Chicago
I get up around 8am, and Sarah hands me my jacket which she has run through the dryer for me. It's a bit rumpled and needs ironing. Sarah drives to airport, and we park too far away from the Southwest terminal and need to walk 3 sections to find it. There is much confusion as the usual pedestrian walkway we would take is closed and we have to make a detour. We check in our bags outside and the sky cap kids us about having to walk back down to the parking lot and over far away to our gate. Sarah says, "That's bullshit!" and he laughs. Of course it is, but how did he know he could tease us that way?

Southwest Airlines is great compared to Northwest! No mechanical problems, no delays. We take off without any event. I sit across from a 30-something guy named Nelson who has lots of cool electronic toys like a portable DVD player, iPod, and nice noise cancelling headphones. We strike up conversation and he tells me he works for Best Buy as a buyer for businesses. His partner works as a flight attendant for Southwest and he's off to visit him in New Orleans. Before long we are swapping iPods playing songs for each other. I let him pick what he wants to hear from my iPod and notice he's listening to Nine Inch Nails' "Starfuckers". He plays me a Sarah McLaughlin album of dance mixes which I've never heard before but like. I notice he has only one playlist which is all of his songs, and tell him he needs to get the playlist thing going, but he doesn't seem to care for that concept. He's missing out, I think. I'm all about playlists. The three of us are chatting, laughing and swapping iPods and the grumpy old man sitting in front of Sarah gives us dirty looks. Another 50'ish man sitting behind Nelson on the aisle seat is laughing because we're having so much fun. His wife, sitting by the window, does not seem as amused, and shakes her head a bit, but at least someone gets that we're enjoying ourselves and enjoys watching it. I ask the 50'ish man where he's going and he says Las Vegas. Everyone's looking for some fun, why wait to get to your destination for it? We've already started, and didn't need anything artificial to get it going.

The Experience Designer
We take a cab to our hotel, the Amalfi, which is a relatively new, boutique hotel, that's all about your experience! When you check in, you're seated at a table with an experience designer, rather than just a front desk. Our designer is Dozzy. He's black, British accent, nicely dressed, with an impeccable demeanor. He checks us in, tells us our room is ready in spite of the fact that we're checking in 4 hours ahead of the usual time, gives us both shopping maps, highlighting where we are and where we want to go. He recommends a nearby restaurant, Bice, for lunch. He asks what our plans are and we tell him we're going to see Matthew Sweet. He's never heard of him, but says he can look it up and let us know where the Park West, where he's playing is located. I tell him he's a great experience designer and he's pleased.

Our room overlooks the Museum of Broadcast Communications, which I'd like to have visited, but it doesn't open until next year. We leave our bags in the room and head out, accidentally passing by Billy Goats, made famous by the old Saturday Night Live skit, "Cheezborger. Cheezborger. Cheezborger. No Pepsi..Coke. Even though it's bright daylight, it's kind of underground there, and always dark. We decide to take Dozzy's advice for lunch at and stop at Bice. What do we eat? I order a caprese salad and Sarah gets a salad and half order of pasta. The restaurant is pretty empty, but they seat us in the front room by the bar. I don't mind as we're right by the window and can look out on the street. There's a middle-aged man sitting at the bar getting piss drunk. Our waiter is Italian and speaks some Italian words. All I know is ciao and bella. I order hazelnut gelato for dessert. I'm feeling good.

Shopping on Michigan Ave.
After lunch we head off to Michigan Ave for some serious shopping! Sarah and I can do major damage when shopping and this feels like one of those times. We stop at Lord and Taylor's, Marshall Fields and Filene's Basement among others. We split up at each store, as that's how we shop most effectively (ie. POWER shop!). I end up with 5 cashmere sweaters (3 in different shades of pink!), a blue suede lined jacket, and a pink boucle jacket. I love wearing pink, and it's in a major way with the fashions these days, so I'm easily taken in. And there is a big sale everywhere, and what girl can resist beautiful colors of cashmere sweaters on sale?

Feeling overloaded and tired, we head back to the hotel. I's about 5pm. I call the Park West for the concert and they say that the opener Velvet Crush will be on around 8pm, and Matthew Sweet will be on around 9. We get ready for the show. Sarah wears the Courtney Love T-shirt I've brought for her from the recent Fillmore concert I went to. She puts on a white thermal shirt underneath and feels very much like a cool grunge chick. She poses for a few photos, pretending to be Courtney Love perched on the hotel window sill, much like Courtney did on her 40th birthday when she started throwing bottles out of the window from her Soho apartment.

We decide we want a good old-fashioned Chicago steak dinner. We call the experience designer, but it's not Dozzy and the guy pales by comparison. He offers us a 7:30pm reservation at a place on the water. We decide to turn it down and try for Harry Caray's across the street, which looks very lively and has a good reputation. We get there, but the wait is very long and it looks like a typical frat boy sports bar. So we walk around the corner and find Sullivan's - quite the opposite, a very dark, wood-paneled, old boy network, men's club kind of place. It is full of men dressed in their trade show uniforms of blue oxfords and khaki pants (from the packaging trade show that is taking place this week). Yet they say they can seat us immediately, so we grab the chance. I have a mushroom filet mignon and Sarah has a NY steak. We split asparagus and scalloped potatoes. It's yummy.

Matthew Sweet in the Windy City
We catch a cab to the Park West. It's a little after 8, and I'm thinking we're making good time. Left my ID at the hotel, but I talk the guy at the door into stamping my hand after all, as vain as I may be, I can't possibly look like a teenager! We get in, and Matthew Sweet is already on stage! How can it be - he is not the opening band! I push Sarah up to the front through the crowd and we end up about 3 people in deep in front of Matthew Sweet. It is just the first song of his set and he is using the Velvet Crush as his backup band. They do a set of Matthew Sweet songs, then Velvet Crush, then Matthew Sweet again. Matthew Sweet and Paul Chastain of the Velvet Crush switch lead vocals, during the sets. I don't think I've seen a show quite this way before. After Matthew Sweet's set, the crowd thins out and we move to the very front of the stage, right in front of Paul Chastain. I take some movies with my digital camera, but avoid flash photography as I don't want my camera taken from me, nor do I want to irritate the band. And for the life of me I cannot figure out how to turn off the flash. Between songs, Paul is tuning his guitar and says something to me. I can't remember what. "Are you in tune?" I ask him, to which he responds, "Doesn't matter, I'm not in the mix!" "At least you're not lip-synched!" I yell back, but they've started playing again, and our conversation ends right there. "I can't believe he was talking to you!" says Sarah. "It was no big deal," I say. "Not the first time someone in a band has talked to me right from the stage."

Matthew Sweet could be mistaken for a soft-rock artist from some of his recordings, especially if you listen to the Thorns album. But live, he completely rocks out! He plays a vintage goldtop Gibson Les Paul and Paul Chastain plays a black Ibanez Les Paul, and what a great noise they make! I never really thought I wanted a Les Paul for a guitar before, but now I do! Matthew Sweet looks pretty scruffy - his hair is way too long and he's unshaved and his clothes are kind of a mess. Oh but it doesn't matter - he plays like hell, and we just love the songs!

Alas it is over all too soon. I rip away Paul Chastain's set list after the last Matthew Sweet song, figuring he doesn't need it anymore. They come back and do some encores, and then they're gone. The speakers start playing Badfinger's "No Matter What" and other songs like that from that era (the rest of which I've forgotten). We sit at a table and finish off our beers. They start to throw us out. We are amped, but have to leave. On our way out, we stop and both buy Matthew Sweet/Velvet Crush T-shirts. They are also hawking glazed pottery made by Matthew Sweet (no two alike!). What guy (let alone rocker) do you know that makes pottery? Sarah buys a vase for $30. I buy the VHS tape of raw concert footage shot by the bass player for $10. They are also selling Velvet Crush CDs, and although I want to get one, I don't know which to get and there are too many so I pass on it. Someone wants to know which Matthew Sweet CD is better, "Living Things" or the Japanese one. Get the Japanese one for sure I urge him, but "In Reverse" is even better.

We go back to the hotel and leave our purchases. We go down one street and go into an Irish pub. There's a jukebox in the front and I program it with $4, which buys me 12 songs. To my delight, they start playing immediately! I choose "Only Happy When it Rains" by Garbage, "Who Loves the Sun" by the Velvet Underground, "Do Ya?" by ELO, "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" by Lenny Kravitz. "I Believe When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever," and "Part Time Lover" by Stevie Wonder. "Angel Eyes" by John Hiatt. "Golden Slumbers" by the Beatles and others that I can't remember now. We listen to all of them, drink a beer and then cross the street to the "Howl of the Moon".

Howl of the Moon is a piano bar, featuring 2 pianos going at once. You can request a song and sing along. That sounds intriguing and I wonder if I have the guts to do it. We go to the bar and order a beer and watch. Someone is up there playing harmonica and they're playing "Sweet Home Chicago." It sounds pretty good. A table opens up in front and I tell Sarah let's go sit down. We seat ourselves in front of the piano player on the left of the stage - a brown haired bearded guy, who resembles the comedian Tom Greene. This guy proves to be just as obnoxious as Greene, as he immediately starts to make lewd faces and sing vulgar lyrics at us. What did we do to deserve this? Still, I'm a little drunk and ready to make a fool of myself by singing in public. I write a request down, "It's Different for Girls" by Joe Jackson, figuring a piano player ought to know Joe Jackson songs. Sarah requests "Crush" by Gavin DeGraw. I slip our requests up in front of the greasy-haired lewdo, and he immediately looks at them, but doesn't play them - I guess he didn't know them. Instead he plays "The Joker" by the Steve Miller Band, making vulgar references in them. What a loser! They seem to alternate songs, and the other pianist is much better as he breaks out into the Violent Femmes "Blister In the Sun" and Radiohead's "Creep." We are obviously sitting on the wrong side of the room. Other pianists come and take over, and a guy is playing Coldplay's "Clocks". A woman comes up and joins him, and then she plays a Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark". A woman from the audience comes on and belts out "Me and Bobby McGee" pretty well. I am searching for another song to sing, but in my drunken state I can't think of anything that I can remember the words for except a Beatles song I recently learned to play on the guitar, "For No One." So I put that up there by the female pianist. She looks at it and asks me if I requested the song, and says she doesn't know it, but I could request another. Why that song features a harpsichord or some crazy keyboard in it - why doesn't a pianist know it? They start to play party music like Bad Moon Rising, and I decide it's time to leave. The place is full of frat boys who want to party and I want to be melancholy.

So we go to Rockit, a very cool hip club that the last hotel experience designer has recommended. The downstairs is closed so we head upstairs to an empty dance floor. We sit by the bar and order lemon drop martinis. They are $10 each. The music they are playing is from a radio station - a mix show. It's good music, but I can't remember what it is. There's hardly anyone there, and you know the party is over. I go to the bathroom and find Sarah talking to a youngish guy as I return. He is telling her where to go in Chicago - Lincoln Park is an absolute must he says. Then he says something about gay guys, but he is not gay, he has a girlfriend and asks the female bartender to confirm it which she does. Then he says he must kick us out as it's closing time. Is it really 2am already? Thankfully the hotel is only a block away, but as we walk back we are approached by a homeless man. Sarah stops to talk to him and gives him $5. He tells us he's not a bum, he's a painter and paints houses, but his real dream is to be an interior decorator. Sarah tells him to remember his dream. Then he asks me if I can help him out and I offer him $2 and Sarah chastises me for giving him money. "You gave him $5!" I say. What does it matter anyway? We head back to the hotel room and listen to some music on my iPod speakers before passing out.

Next> Day 4: The morning after, Art Institute, Night tour