Middle of the night, or early Saturday morning, whichever you prefer. I woke near 2:30, freezing, and came downstairs to check the thermostat. Someone lowered the heat to 65 during the day but forgot to raise it to 67 at night. The temperature outside hovers near 35. So I’m up, I guess, for now. Maybe I’ll watch “The Office.”

Thursday sucked but yesterday was much better. Thursday night M’s mom pissed me off to the point where I saw colors flashing before my eyes and I thought my inevitable heart attack would make a premature appearance. I had picked up the boys up from school and, as I walked in the house, M’s mom gave them instructions as to what they could eat and do for the next hour. What the fuck? I’m their dad! Back the fuck off! I think she sensed my frustration so she scuttled off to the living room with her book (a biography of Barbara Walters) under the full spectrum light. Later I teed off on M, which I do maybe once every five years, because M gave her mom instructions as to what to do with the kids after school like I was f—king retard (excuse my politically incorrect language, please) or something. M said she wasn’t sure if I was going to be home (I had picked the kids after calling the neighbor who planned on picking them up to warn her I would pick them up) so she told her mom what to do. Whatever. Even if that were the case M’s mom should have deferred. The men in M’s family are traditionally useless. There’s some deep hegemony there. You get a lot of control when you characterize fathers as useless. And I’m not fucking buying that. Anyway, I took T to baseball practice where I froze on the sidelines while reading Outlander and listening to Wilco. T did well but he’s always nervous when he first meets new people so he faked an injury near the end of practice. Hey, I’m with you buddy, I did that for years. He says he wants to keep playing, though. He’s a good kid. After I arrived home I showered and went straight to bed.

Yesterday I woke near four and left for the train at 6:30. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to park downtown and get a ticket. The ticket machine was broken so I bought one at the counter. The new Milwaukee train station is decent, but I don’t know how long the space will remain clean and airy. I hope they maintain the building and windows.

http://emptystreets.net/media/images/20060815_amtrak_new.jpg

I settled into a station seat in the corner and listened to a little music but mostly spaced out and people-watched. A couple of old women sold (gave away?) copies of the Watchtower near the track entrance. They gossiped back and forth while the passengers passed. The suit guys with their expensive coffee talked on their cell phones. If you’re so important, buddy, why are you taking the goddamn train?

I snagged a decent seat, once I boarded, and listened to Aphex Twin (“Rhubarb” twice in a row) and other ambient as we rolled through the Racine/Kenosha fields. An Asian woman, studying for a CPA exam on her laptop and with index cards, sat next to me from the airport stop on to Chicago. I tried to sneak answers to her multiple choice questions but I didn’t want to intrude. There was something wrong with the ticket machine at the airport, too, so the conductor let some people ride without paying. Free train trip! Not for me, though. I had already paid.

J and I met in the Union State great hall. We snagged breakfast at the satellite Billy Goat. I had a decent omelet, the first one I ever had on Styrofoam plates, while J had a disgusting egg thing that I don’t even want to describe here. He needed money, so we hit his cash machine at his old job. He ran into a friend and I sat on the edge of a fountain and watched guys clean the ground with those big machines you associate with polishing floors. I had never seen one outside before. We clean the ground now? Afterwards we walked to the Art Institute. The lines were long, two of them, one for members and one for the proletariat. Intimidated, we batted around the idea of skipping the exhibit. The lines moved quickly enough, however, and we snagged 1PM exhibit tickets at 11AM.

Since we had time to kill we hit Millennium Park. You know, I don’t miss Chicago all that much. I like visiting. I don’t think I’d want to live there again. Still, goddamn, the city did a great job with Millennium Park. I wish we had a similar space in Milwaukee. If you ever thought park design was a non-profession, walk through the space just north of the Art Institute. The designers, landscapers, and whoever else is responsible for this former-railroad space all deserves kudos for their efforts.

First we stood under the bean. I love how the gulls sit on top.

http://www.yellow-springs.k12.oh.us/ys-mls/_borders/Cloud%20Gate%20Millennium%20Park%20Chicago%207-04.jpg

Then we crossed the Pritzker Pavilion, where black kids on a field trip were playing football (I’m open!) and traversed the cool, snaking Gehry (sp?) bridge:

http://www.pps.org/graphics/upo-pages/millennium_bandshell_large

http://www.lynnbecker.com/repeat/Gehry/bridgecolumbusend.jpg

J says the city should keep the tennis courts, but fuck that, nobody was using them. We walked around the gardens, crossed back, and sat in the square drinking three dollar sodas. Man, what a beautiful space. As our exhibit ticket time drew near we walked past the face buildings (I don’t know what else to call them) where all the kids ran through the water:

http://sallygreene.org/Chicago/Chicago-Images/40.jpg

Good job on the park, hometown. I’m proud.

Back in the Art Institute I checked my backpack and we walked through the galleries. F called from work so I stood in the hall and talked while J checked out the older paintings. For a guy who hates art museums J looks at every picture for about ten minutes. We got into the Hopper exhibit right at 1. The last-day crowds were heavy but not unmanageable. I spent more time in the middle of the exhibit, around the city and Cape Cod pictures, this time. I noticed two new things that should have been obvious:

The woman in the NY theatre picture is an usherette, not a theatergoer. I should have noticed her uniform years ago. That painting is up in my dining room.
The background street in Nighthawks is very similar to the street in Sunday Morning. Again, both pictures are up in my dining room, and I never noticed the connection.

I’m glad I saw the show again before the closing. J and I walked back to Union Station. I read “Outlander” on the way home and reached my front door by 5PM. After shoveling lasagna into my mouth I took a bath with the book. Yes, historical romance in the bathtub. Draw your own conclusions. N and I read for a while (he said he only wanted to read with Daddy…take that, M’s mom!) until we both fell asleep.

My legs are killing me. A lot of walking/running lately. Hopefully I can take it easy today. More later.