Whew! We are in the dog days of summer huh? My goodness.
So here a few things to remember today:
1. Apply to win a Chicago Elevated Tour or a copy of Elaine Soloway’s book Division Street Princess! You can win one of these awesome prizes over at Me & My Shadow. Do it! Great site, great contest, fun ladies!
2. Remember, I give tours! Did you know that? Come on one, the Boystown Tours are getting great reviews and I’d love to see people out and about having fun with me. Just click on that pretty “tours” tab up there and check me out.
3. You know, as I’ve gotten started in this business, I’ve met some other great local guides. They are awesome and supportive and you should know about them.
And one last fun video of my time at Northalsted’s Halsted Tastes Better. I’m really enjoying making these little imovies, I hope you’re enjoying them too! I’m getting a new camera for my 40th birthday, so pardon the graininess…
Frances over at Me & My Shadow writes a great Chicago blog. She personalizes history, not just recites facts or points out buildings. She’s a fantastic writer, a great advice giver and a master of social media. She’s unveiling a new look for her site today and she and I have gotten together to spread the awesomeness to you! Make sure you check the directions to enter the drawing! Check it:
FRANCES: Margaret Hicks, Chicago Tour Guide Extraordinaire, I need help.
MARGARET: Sure, anything, as long as it don’t land me in trouble with the boys downtown.
FRANCES: Nothin’ like that. Just looking to launch my Chicago blog with a real bang.
MARGARET: Like I said, I don’t want no trouble.
FRANCES: No trouble at all. Just something fun for da readers of my Chicago blog, Me & My Shadow.
MARGARET: What, you still passing yourself off as a Chicagoan?
FRANCES: You don’t have to live in Chicago to write about it. Chicago is a state of mind. I spent 45 years livin’ dere and now I live in the ‘burbs, just 23 miles from State and Madison. Trust me, I know da city.
MARGARET: OK, Two-Flat Girl,* tell me this: How many city blocks were recorded in 1830?**
FRANCES: They didn’t teach us that at Peterson (Elementary School).
MARGARET: Well, given that disadvantage, you get a pass.
FRANCES: And help?
MARGARET: It’s the Chicago way!
FRANCES: I want to reward my readers for stopping by to visit the new blog and sayin’ hello. A little something for putting in a word.
MARGARET: You talkin’ bribes?
FRANCES: Let’s not use that word. Ya never know who’s listenin’. Stick with reward. Any ideas?
MARGARET: I’d be willin’ to take a couple of your people on one of my city tours.
FRANCES: Gee, that’s a great idea, Margaret, but my readers, they know da city. What could you show them that they haven’t seen already?
MARGARET: Oh man! I could show them things that would blow their minds! First, they could come on a Boystown Tour – do a wine tasting, check out an art gallery, have a drink at one of Boystown’s first gay bars, the Boystown Tour is a blast. I really like giving this tour and it ends with $5 martinis, how you gonna beat that?
FRANCES: OK, that sounds good. Let’s send two of them on a tour. But what I’m gonna do about the folks who aren’t lucky enough to live in the city that works?
MARGARET: I see your point. You need another bribe, I mean reward, for the out-of-towners.
FRANCES: I know. The out-of-towners can read about Chicago. I’ve got just the book.
Frances whips out her cell phone and speed dials.
FRANCES: Elaine Soloway, Chicago Author Extraordinaire, I need help.
ELAINE: Sure, of course you can have an autographed copy of my Chicago memoir, TheDivision Street Princess, for your blog drawing.
FRANCES: Wait a minute, you been eavesdropping on me? Margaret, are you wired?
ELAINE AND MARGARET: It’s the Chicago Way!
*Not claiming any relationship to Mike Royko who was the original “Two-Flat Man.” He was also “Bungalow Baby,” “Basement Flat Child,” “Flat Above the Tavern Youth,” “Attic Flat Man.”
**There were 58 blocks in 1830.
Enter the Me & My Shadow Drawing to Win a Chicago Tour or Book
Between now and July 30, post a comment here on Frances’ blog. Chicago area residents simply type the word “Chicago” as your comment and if you feel like it, leave a longer message. Out-of-towners, type the phrase “Chicago is a state of mind.” You can post the comment on any entry in the blog. The winner of the drawing for Chicago residents will receive a voucher for two people for an Elevated Chicago tour led by Margaret Hicks. The voucher will be good for one year from the date of issue. You can give the voucher as gift if you’re unable to take the tour. The out-of-town winner will receive by mail an autographed copy of Elaine Soloway’s book, The Division Street Princess.
Thanks to Margaret Hicks and Elaine Soloway for sponsoring the Me & My Shadow drawing:
Chicago Elevated is a new kind of tour company. Started by comedian and tour guide, Margaret Hicks, Chicago Elevated searches for humor and history with the same passion. Margaret was a docent at the Chicago Architecture Foundation before she got laid off her job, she took her passion – started a blog – and now gives tours of a different sort. Chicago Elevated tours are not your grandmother’s tours! It’s the Fight Club of tours. We don’t point at buildings and spew out facts, we go into businesses, buildings and try to stay in the shade as much as possible! Margaret can also customize a private tour for you, got kids? We’ll set up a fun scavenger hunt for you? What about a company outing and you need something fun and different so your boss looks at you with respect? Call Chicago Elevated, we can set up anything that floats your boat, as long as you provide the boat.
Elaine Soloway’s book, The Division Street Princess, was named a Chicago Tribune 2006 “Best Book.” An excerpt appeared earlier in this blog. Royko might have described Elaine as a “Flat Above a Grocery Store youth” — she grew up in a three-room flat above her family’s grocery store. In her tale of bookies, poolrooms, sidewalk playgrounds, and relatives who lived down the block, we learn about her loving but embattled parents, her adored older brother, and neighborhood kibitzers. Along with her recollections of a lively, unique community, she also shows the underside of childhood and urban life.
The 4th of July has long been my favorite holiday. Not only is it smack dab in the middle of summer, but it is a celebration you are meant to spend with your friends, outside with some bbqs and beer. Easy peasy.
In Chicago’s fine history, the 4th of July always has a place. Chicago started construction of the Illinois Michigan Canal on the 4th of July, that’s pretty patriotic.
During the World’s Fair of 1893 there was a huge celebration on the 4th of July, this from John Brisben Walker – a journalist – on his 4th of July at the Fair:
Yet here were only happy, smiling faces, women and children moving with perfect freedom, without even a thought that they were in the largest crowd of people ever brought together within a single enclosure upon the American continent, all feeling kindly toward each other, all taking part in the general joy and the universal pride that was the creation of their countrymen. The contrast between the stage-coach and the locomotive, between the birch-bark letter of the Indian and the telautograph message of Gray, the canoe of the Esquimaux and the electric railway, were not so great as that between the customs prevalent in my boyhood and this realization of hopes for a new civilization in the midst of this I walked on this 4th of July, 1893.
And in 1908, “the sanest 4th of July in Chicago’s history” begins with the laws that “vacant lots, the streets and the public parks and grounds are the places designed for the noisemakers to hold sway.”
And this leads me to 2010.
At first, like many, I was upset to hear that the big fireworks by Navy Pier were now going to be divided to two smaller displays on the south side and the north side. Boo, I thought, boo. We don’t get to have anything anymore.
However, last night as we gathered just a few of our things to head down to the beach, I may have changed my mind. How easy it was for me and my friends to hop on a Lawrence bus and ride for 10 minutes to where the fireworks were to be held. By Foster and Lawrence there is so much room for everyone, so much park space – our fear of crowds was allayed immediately. We even brought our Bacci balls and had plenty of room to play in a quiet little tree corner in the park.
Once the sun dipped, MAN OH MAN the amateur fireworks began to go off and in all truth? It scared me to death. There were lit firecrackers landing on our blankets for a while and the noise was deafening, but all was quieted about 2 minutes before the big guns started to kick in.
And we sat on our blankets, room on all sides, little kids running around and the fireworks right in front of our faces and I knew that I was already sold on the idea of smaller fireworks on opposite sides of the city. Sure, the fireworks were maybe a little less this year, but it was worth it.
We stayed in the park for awhile after the fireworks, afraid to even try to get on a bus to get home, but as we meandered out, tired and ears ringing, we see a ton of Lawrence buses lined up to take us home. We waited about 5 minutes and off we went. Sure it took us a bit as the traffic was ridiculous, but the whole thing was SO MUCH easier than trudging down to the city with our stuff, finding a place, pushed up against every other family in Chicago.
I dig it. I hope they do it again next year.
Here is a pic of the 4th of July at the World’s Fair in 1893:
Hey, did you guys know I give a Boystown Tour? Huh? Did ya? You don’t just want to let the whole summer pass you by without hanging with me and drinking wine right? Make sure you click the “tours” tab up on the left there eh?
Let’s just be honest here, it’s taken me…5 days to get my breeder back on and to recover from maybe one of the most fun days ever.
The ladies and I were witches from Greek mythology – we were blind and raggedy and shared an eye – typecasting I know. We made the plan to meet up for a big breakfast and a bloody at Glenn’s figuring not many people would be there considering it was POURING. I woke up sad for every gay human I’ve ever known. It felt like it was going to rain all day and by the time we got to Glenn’s we were soaked.
But the skies parted, the bloodys arrived and we were on our way. We took the train to Berlin and felt a little awesome walking in there. We put on our glitter in the dressing room, blacked out our eyes and made friends with the boys who we were riding floats with.
Everyone at Berlin was AWESOME. So kind, so friendly, so funny – we were cracking up before we even left the bar. The owner, Jim, had gotten pizza for everyone and waters and drinks and the ladies and I made our way to the CTA where we were going to catch our float at Fullerton. Unfortch, the CTA wouldn’t let anyone on the train without a shirt on.
Um…we were with the Berlin boys? Our theme was Mt. Olympus? Do you really think any of them had shirts ON? Luckily, the witches came in handy and we had shirts galore in our bags and it was the greatest thing ever to give our lady-shirts to all the dudes. Here is my friend Chris in Wendy’s tshirt. Guess what Wendy is?:
It felt nice to be able to give back a bit!
We finally get to our float and we’re pretty much dead last in the parade. However, it matters not. We all had a really good time just hanging out with each other, laughing, dancing, sweating – and after about an hour – the float began to float.
It was pretty low-key until we got to Belmont and Halsted and all of a sudden….CROWDS. So many people. And they’re waving and laughing and pointing and all they want in the world is for you to wave and point and laugh back. We danced and screamed and sat down a couple of times on the stairs of the float (heh).
When I got to Boystown, I must admit, I might have shed a tear. The force of what this was about hit me so completely – it’s not about rainbows and liquor, it’s about acceptance. And what made me so emotional was that all the homophobes in the world are missing out on one of the greatest segments of our society. There was so much love – not just for other dudes or whatever – but there was so much love being shown to us by the people at Berlin, so much care taken, so much love for each other and so much laughter and smiles – it is their loss that they don’t love the LGBT of our society.
I also choked up when we passed by a middle-aged lady, a lady who had stayed until the end of the parade and she had one sign: “I’m so proud to have a gay son.” And it overwhelmed me – sure you assholes – these are the people to hate – the people who love to dance and sing and want to get married and take care of each other and us, bah.
The parade continued forever and I loved it forever. We were let out by Diversey and the Lake. We were hot and tired and happy but we needed to get back to Boystown. Luckily for us, one of those fantastic bicycle drivers came to get us and we toodled on home.
The whole day was such a rush. I’m proud of my friends, I’m proud of Berlin, I’m proud of all the gay people in my life and I’m proud for presenting a tour that I think somehow really intimidates people (more on that next week) but this day just invigorated me, pleased me and inspired me.
Thank you to Berlin for having us!
Here is my 1st imovie with the background of what it’s like to be in a Pride Parade:
Last time I talked about my formative years in Chicago, I talked about my younger years spent with my father and brothers. We would roam Old Town back in the days of Bizarre Bazaar and head over to Oak Street Beach for long LONG walks.
But as I got a little older, I learned a whole new Chicago.
When I was a tween (I hate that word, but it’s so accurately descriptive) I had a group of girl friends – we were actually creative enough to call ourselves “the group.” We were nerds, total nerds but we loved each other – and hell, we were funny. We were around 12 or 13 when our parents let us go downtown to visit my friend Lisa’s grandmother, Noonie.
Noonie lived in a house at Aldine and Ashland, right there by the 3 corners of Lincoln, Ashland and Belmont. It was a MUCH different corner back then. Much. But Noonie’s house was about the greatest thing ever. Our parents would let us stay over night and Noon would let us walk around the neighborhood. Noon used to do makeup, so she had a bathroom with all the makeup you could ever want to play with. We would get dressed up, our bandanas tied perfectly around our ankles to provide the tightest peg for our jeans, pick out Molly Ringwald hats, put on way too much makeup and head out to the mean streets of Chicago.
I remember the Goldblatts most of all. It was always dead, always. And everytime we went in there the salespeople would follow us around to make sure we weren’t stealing anything. Now that makes sense, back then we were offended, so my friend Marnie once picked up a huge potted plant and pretended to take it out of the store. Oh my god that makes me laugh.
There was also a record store and an old diner – across from where the Xsport is today. We would spend hours in that record store picking up Cyndi Lauper records and Tim Curry records.
That’s okay, I know, I’ll say it again – Tim Curry records.
See, we LOVED Rocky Horror. We loved it. Tiny little teenage girls and we loved Rocky Horror. When we would go to Noonie’s, her husband would take us to the Biograph at midnight to go see it. Somehow our parents thought this was okay – that we dressed up and went and sang about transvestites and touching me and death and lesbianism and oh man.
Noonie had a store on Lincoln, this memory fades a bit here, but it was among many stores like it on Lincoln. All these old stores selling old furniture – the neighborhood was nothing like it is now.
But that’s where I learned to roam. That’s where I learned to not be afraid of the city. We would wander for hours and hours, not spending a dime, just….wandering.
Here we are in some getups, look closely and you’ll see that the first pic says “normal” and the second pic says “punk.” Obviously we had a really good idea of what punk was….not:
Well, it’s the big week! It’s Pride week and I personally am very excited.
Not only is Pride week a big one for my business, but this year I am going to be on a float! A PRIDE FLOAT! As far as I’m concerned this is a once in a lifetime and I’m really excited about it. I will be riding on the Berlin float (go big, that’s what I say) and will be dressed as a witch. I have been asked many times this weekend if I will be a “sexy” witch and to that I answer “whatever keeps me the coolest and the most comfortable, which in this case, means yes, I suppose we will be sexy witches.
When I was doing research for the Boystown Tour, I interviewed the fellow who runs the Pride Parade every year and he was such a peanut. Chicago was one of the first cities to hold a Pride Parade in 1970 (the anniversary of Stonewall). There were only 3 cities that held a pride parade (back then it was really more of a march) that year, it was LA, New York and Chicago.
In some ways, we’re ahead of the game.
I also interviewed a few other people who mentioned to me that the parade is really no longer called “Gay Pride Parade” and is not just….pride. Due to more assimilation and less sort of …. militarized pushing for rights and the inclusion of straights, bisexuals and all kinds of people in between, now it really is just the Pride Parade.
I will be there with bells on, I’ll be shooting some video and showing the “behind the scenes” of the whole thing. It’s going to be a lot of fun.
Oh and only one Boystown Tour this week on Thursday! Come celebrate with me! Have a few drinks and gear up for the weekend ahead!
Last night we went to see Fuerza Bruta. It was my best friend Sabrina and my husband John. The show was at 10:00PM, we had been to karaoke the night before and were a little um…tired. But we had some vodka lemonades and set out for downtown.
I dug the show. Dug it a lot. It’s Cirque De Soleil but cooler, hipper, stranger. But it’s that same feeling that you got at the end of Blue Man when you first saw it twenty years ago – water everywhere, music blaring, straights in suits dancing their asses off, you’re clapping and singing words when there aren’t any and just smiling because inherently, this is what humans were meant to do – dance and laugh and play in water.
The highlight for this ole girl however, was the show was at The Auditorium Theater. I didn’t realize we were going there till just before we left. When asked by one of my companions if I knew where the theater was, I think I made a rude face and stated snottily “of course I know where it is.” I’m such a cute tour guide.
We get downtown and immediately upon walking up to the building I start describing it for my compatriots. Built in 1889, and designed by my historic boyfriend – Louis Sullivan and my not historic boyfriend – Dankmar Adler. I talked about the rough hewn of the building at it’s base, the arches soaring over Congress, the reflection of those arches mirrored in the Harold Washington Library,…hell, this is rumored to be the building – because of it’s spectacular acoustics – that the phrase “you can hear a pin drop” came from, oh, it just sends my heart soaring.
And we get inside and it’s so historic, so classic, so Chicago Age of Innocence, you can imagine all the society people, marveling at what these men built. But Fuerza Bruta is in there now and the music was ROCKING in the lobby, all kinds of crazy lights and lit up tables that change color…
And then we walk into the auditorium and it is just so breathtaking. The seats go up for miles, like a sports stadium and we’re led on to the stage, you stand for Fuerza Bruta. You stand on the stage of the Auditorium Theater. You can look out for miles ahead, seats as far as your eye can see. Everyone is packed on to the stage and there are 4,000 seats staring back at you, it’s a really weird and excellent feeling.
Once when Sabrina and I lived in New York City, she had the chance to stand on a Broadway stage. She told me she went to the center of the stage and whispered her name.
I thought it poignant.
So while tears of beauty and sadness for Louis boiled up in my eyes, I looked straight out into all 4,000 of those seats, I felt the wood of the stage under my feet, I stared at the beautiful lights and the murals on the wall and I thought of Louis Sullivan
and I whispered my name just loudly enough for him to hear me.
Yay! The Hawks win! My parents were big into hockey, me not so much. I’ll admit it. I’m not really a sports girl at all. But MAN OH MAN I love it when Chicago does something so awesome. So yay Hawks. I’ll be there for that parade tomorrow oh man!
So yeah, I just decided today to check on some Chicago jokes. We’ll start with some that I found and at the end I’ll show you the responses to: How many Chicagoans does it take to screw in a lightbulb? They’re pretty funny. Okay:
A man was telling his co-worker one day that the company was transferring him to Chicago. He explained that he was going to quit before he had to move there.
When asked why, he replied that he was just too afraid of all the crime even though he would be passing up a big salary increase and greater benefits.
His co-worker said to reconsider and that Chicago was a magnificent city, with world class museums, loaded with a great history, sites, close to Canada, good public transportation, etc.
Then he said: “Why I myself worked in Chicago for almost 10 years and in all that time I never ever had a problem with crime while I was working.”
The first asked, “What did you do there?”
To which the other replied, “I was tail-gunner on a bread truck.”
Heh. That one is good, but I like this one even better:
A first grade teacher explains to her class that she is a Sox fan. She asks her students to raise their hands if they were Sox fans too. Not really knowing what a Sox fan was but wanting to be like their teacher, their hands explode into the air like fleshy fireworks.
There is, however, one exception. One girl has not gone along with the crowd. The teacher asks her why she has decided to be different. “Because I’m not a Sox fan.”
Then, asks the teacher, what are you?
“Why I’m proud to be a Chicago Cubs fan,” boasts the little girl.
The teacher is a little perturbed now, her face slightly red. She asks the girl why she is a Cubs fan.
“Well, My Dad and Mom are Cubs fans, and I’m a Cubs fan too.”
The teacher is now angry. “That’s no reason,” she says loudly. “What if your Mom was a moron, and your dad was a moron. What would you be then?”
A pause, and a smile. “Then,” says the girl, “I’d be a Sox fan.”
Hahahahhahahaha! Oh man
Q: Did you hear about the new Cubs soup?
A: Two sips and then you choke.
Meh.
A wicked Chicago man died and went to the place all wicked people go. The Devil decided to shove him in a room and cranked the heat and humidity up.
The man smiled. When the Evil One asked why the man was smiling he said: “Just like Chicago in Spring”
So the Most Evil One cranked up the heat and humidity more. The man removed his coat, smiled, and said:
“Just like Chicago in Summer”
This time the Destroyer of Beauty cranked the heat and humidity to maximum.
The man removed his shirt and tie and said
“Just like Chicago in August”
The Devil then got an idea. He shut off the heat and turned on the air conditioning. The room froze in seconds. Ice was everywhere. Polar bears hid in dens because it was so cold. Satan, confident he had finally won, peaked in the man’s room only to find the man cheering and partying frantically….
“The Cubs won the World Series…The Cubs won the World Series…”
That one was pretty good, but let’s find some non-Cubs jokes, oh but wait, this one’s funny:
“Will the mother who left her nine kids at Wrigley Field please come and get them?… they’re beating the Cubs 7-2″
And here are the answers to my Facebook and Twitter question:
How many Chicagoans does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
From Twitter:
@nosokomani: only one, but it takes two thousand to authorize the budget for purchase.
@marcafterdark: one guy to look at the bulb, and the socket and 10 to supervise it. Bulb still not screwed in and its been weeks.
I’ve been a “creative” in this city for a very long time. I’ve been an improviser for, my lord, almost 15 years. My brother is an artist, my husband is an artist and an improviser, my friends write hilarious and amazing shows and I’m happy that I spend my time in this city creating art or watching art being created.
But you know how it is, you get jaded…well not jaded, but you get to the point where you’re not necessarily surprised anymore, or you go longer and longer in between things that really blow you away with their creativity.
Something has come along that has really impressed me and really made me think and that thing is this:
The 365 Sketches project was written by Joe Janes and is produced by Don Hall.
The premise is that Joe Janes wrote a sketch a day for a year.
Now, I’m a writer, I like writing a lot and I’m an improv comedienne and I have co-written a sketch show. Man, it’s not easy to write sketches. It’s not easy to write a few a week, much less seven. Unbelievable. Now the next unbelievable thing is Don Hall taking every one of those 365 sketches and producing them and putting them up on stage.
Seriously? Really? Amazing.
The way it’s working is they’ve handpicked 26 directors, there are over 200 actors and each director gets about 12-14 of Joe’s scenes. The directors cast it themselves, hold auditions, hold rehearsals and this week and through the weekend, they are being performed at the Strawdog Theater on Broadway.
So not only am I blown away by the sheer magnitude of what Joe has done, which is just mind-blowing and takes more discipline than I can ever imagine myself having, but then Don comes along and knows inherently that sketches aren’t meant to lie around, but are meant to be performed and starts putting this puppy together.
THEN, you have the roughly 250 people, let me say that again, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY PEOPLE – actors, directors, producers, stage managers – you have all these people willing to give their time, energy and passion for this – well it’s just overwhelming to me.
I went last night to one of the sketch shows, Don and Joe are both there shooting 5 hour energy drinks, there’s a bar and a friendly crowd and an air-conditioned theater. And granted, are all the sketches laugh out loud hilarious? No, no they’re not, but are they fully-realized sketch scenes and some are sad and some are funny and some are absurd and they all have a beginning a middle and an end.
Sometimes projects really catch my fancy in this city and this is one of those. One of the things I really love about it is that it’s very Chicago. There are no pretensions to this thing. There are no gimmicks, no feather boas, no art stars with fake names – this is the passion of Chicago actors mixed with the passion of a prolific writer and a producer who believes that artistic work is not mean to lie around with no one to see it.
I strongly suggest you go support this, it may not be the most hilarious thing you’ve ever seen, but as you sit there, you will marvel at the undertaking, the passion and the friendship of Chicago’s comedy community.
I’ve never really been one to go on tours. I know I know, it’s my job, but before it was my job, tours were not really my thing. Standing around listening to someone else talk for an hour – two hours? Meh..I’m a performer goldang it, it kills me to watch other people talk!
But then, two things happened. First, I studied to become a docent at the Chicago Architecture Foundation. We not only had to take a few tours to get into the program, but once in, we took tours all the time. And oh my goodness, I learned so much. Granted, it is lovely to walk around a city all on your own, learn what you can and figure out your own opinions on the subject. But after taking a number of tours through the Architecture Foundation (and then giving them), it really showed me what a great way to learn that is. I’m a very visual person – I love reading, don’t get me wrong – but to listen to an actual person and look at the actual building all at the same time – well suffice it to say, I learned a ton that way.
Then a year and a half ago my husband and I took a trip to Thailand. We went to the Grand Palace in Bangkok and wandered around and looked at all the beautiful buildings and sculptures and art. We were mesmerized, completely. But we passed a thousand tour guides on the way in, why would we need that? I can read buildings, we could figure it out on our own. Yet, honestly? We couldn’t. We had no idea what we were looking at or why. I managed to hear a bit of what another tour guide was saying. We were looking at a sculpture of Garuda and the guide was telling the difference between when you see Garuda with the serpent underneath his feet and when you see the serpent in Garuda’s hands. I bet it was neat….whatever she was saying….
Certainly there is nothing wrong with wanting to be on one’s own, believe me, I get that. But you miss the deeper understanding, you miss “the cool.” Sure, the Reliance Building is an aesthetically pleasing building, you don’t need a tour guide to tell you that right? But when you hear that John Root died while they were building it, when you hear that they built it without ever closing down the building that stood there before it, when you hear why Burnham and Atwood were way ahead of their time because the building is mostly windows….well suddenly the building becomes alive.
And if you happen to hire this tour guide, or come on one of my tours, I have an additional thing to add: I’m a hell of a lot of fun. So! Not only will you be learning something and really understanding the context of said thing, you will also be laughing, talking and hanging out with people you either know or will know after the tour.
There is a beauty in learning, a beauty you might miss if you’re all on your own.
O'Hare Arpt., IL