Looptopia

I’m really glad I went. There were some weird, brief downpours early in the evening but aside from that the weather was perfect. Hovering around 60 degrees with just the slightest hint of a breeze.

I met up with Jim outside of the Emerald, which was a madhouse. So we strolled over to the river and got some Looptopia maps. We descended a set of stairs and went along the riverwalk; under Wacker the artists from Around The Coyote had set up a gallery, and there was artwork everywhere. Some of it was so-so, but some of it was damn good. I had a fleeting fantasy of what it would be like to have thousands of dollars in my pocket, able to buy whatever grabbed my eye. Then of course I’d have to have a great many walls to put everything on. Overall I’d say that the photographers had the strongest work. One artist’s pictures consisted of various outdoor tableaux shot at night with a spotlight. It gave everything a fresh, almost alien quality.

The Emerald was still jammed so instead we went over to a Mexican restaurant on Lake between Wabash and Michigan. It’s one of those places you’ve been by a million times but have never actually been inside. It was very noisy but the high ceilings meant at least that it wasn’t claustrophobic. The food was fine. Very quick. My margarita was mild. I don’t think I got much of a buzz. I couldn’t stop eating chips though.

When we finished eating it was raining cats and dogs outside. But we left anyway. It didn’t last very long. We went over to 55 E. Jackson.  The band was slow in setting up. Meanwhile it was a good chance to check out the crowd of bystanders. There were easily a few hundred people. It sort of felt like a huge outdoor college party, it was that age range; but there were some eccentric older people too. I felt a bit old. The band came out finally, dressed up as various foodstuffs: a guitarist was a slice of pizza, the drummer was a grape, the bassist was a banana. They got going and played the entire album More Songs about Buildings and Food.  Behind them on the windows of the building, which had been covered up by white sheets, there were various projections: stock footage of buildings, people at the lakefront, psychedelic colored washes.

The band had rehearsed a lot, that was clear. Except they kept getting the lyrics wrong. But it really didn’t matter. The music was tight. It was awesome to hear all those songs played live. Brought out just how timeless they are: they sounded like a cutting-edge band playing new and exciting music. They turned “Stay Hungry” and “The Good Thing” into metalesque raveups, and the crowd got whipped into a frenzy. The biggest eye-opener was “Take Me to the River,” which became a greasy slow-grind grunge number. Delightful.

It was well worth the trip down there and, for at least a few moments, I was ecstatic and completely at peace.

After that we wandered over to the DePaul Center, checked out a poetry slam type thing and some videos being shown on a loop. Then headed north on State. The same living tableaux as last year here and there on the street. The funniest was a woman in a karate robe, using chopsticks to slowly transfer gummy bears from one bowl to another.

Turning onto Monroe we sighted a tall drag queen in thigh-high vinyl platform boots. She was talking through a megaphone, a twink in a vest at her side. She told the story of how she became Christmas Kissinger. She ended by doing a dance routine while lip-synching to “Downtown.” It was a riot. There were some members of the crowd who had obviously never seen a drag queen in the flesh before, totally cracking up.

Over at Daley Plaza there was some kind of elaborate circus. Acrobats, clowns and the like. Jim was tuckered out and bid me goodnight. I proceeded to the Cultural Center. There was a solid jazz combo with a torch singer performing. They did “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home To,” and “Twisted.” Lots of other stuff. I loved it. I was lucky enough to get a seat. Place was packed, like last year. They were letting people come in a few at a time, not all at once; crowd control.

I was getting sleepy and went to catch the bus home. It was 11:20 and still 60 degrees. Heading home on Lake Shore Drive I stared at all the lights, the tall buildings, the branches on the trees swaying in the wind, the back water of the lake, the dull orange glow on the sand. I thought, “Who can say this isn’t beautiful?”

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