I spent my weekend away from the keyboard in Chicago, where Krissy and I had tickets to see Eddie Izzard on Saturday night. That would only occupy a couple hours of time there, so we had to find other things to do. Fortunately, Chicago is not without alternate entertainment activities, and we kept ourselves suitably amused for the weekend in ways that are probably not entirely interesting to anyone who is not us. So rather than bore you with the details, I’ll just trot out a couple of pictures.
This is a rather large statue which we encountered at the Shedd Aquarium, and which I find interesting. It seems to ask — “What is so wrong about the love of a man for a large fish?” — and on the basis of this particular statue, I am hard-pressed to offer up an objection. Why, that fish is so happy, it’s spurting. Normally that’s not something I’d want for the kids, but you know. It’s an aquarium. You have to accept a little bit of Troy McClure-ness in an environment like that.
For all of you who saw that picture of me in total hick mode will not doubt be relieved to see this picture, which has me more or less back to normal. Well, let’s not lie: This is me rather more satorially together than usual. Krissy, of course, always looks this fabulous. What can I say? She’s just that way. This is the two of us on our way out the door to see the Eddie Izzard concert. I know several of you out there have tickets to a later show, so I won’t re-enact his comedy stylings here. But I will say we got our money’s worth, and those of you still waiting to see him should enjoy yourselves quite adequately.
The only bad thing I can say about the show is that Izzard has reached a point where he’s something of an icon to excitable young gay males everywhere, some of which were sitting directly behind Krissy and me and squealing like 13-year-old girls in 1963 confronted with the prospect of five minutes alone with Paul McCartney. I’m all for people being young gay males if that’s what they are, but really: Keep it together, people. Have some dignity. Although Izzard did look smashing in that slit-skirt number. So I guess I can’t judge the boys too harshly.
Anyway: Chicago. It’s a toddlin’ town. No doubt we’ll be back.