Good Friday

I took the second half of Friday off and went downtown with my friend Pete. We’ve both had a hell of a couple weeks and agreed it would do us both good to chuck work and mess around downtown. And we were right. We started off at America’s dog where I forewent my usual Baltimore dog for a standard Chicago Dog (jumbo) and a side of sweet potato fries. Deep fried Twinkie for desert. The combined grease and sugar content sucked the life out of us for about ten minutes before we rallied and went to Graham Cracker Comics.

I saw much at the comics shop but only picked up the fifth trade of Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol. I am actually down to a single comic every month now, The Boys. A coworker had asked me to be on the lookout for Millie the Model, an Archie Comics type comedy comic that ran for 25 years or so on Marvel. I had never heard of it, but the store owner had and explained any collected editions of this book—assuming there ever had been any—were out of print. Millie is a New York fashion Model dating her photog, Clicker. There were probably dozens of these kind of books, but I’m unfamiliar with them. I have only a passing knowledge of Archie based on watching the original cartoon when I was a kid.

Then on to Reckless Records. Was nice to browse. Pete found Revolver on vinyl. I found a very inexpensive disc of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, which I had lost a few months ago.

We then walked over to Printers Row and visited Sandmeyer’s Bookstore on Dearborn. Nothing wrong with this place at all. Really nice collection of current books. High Brow. Could have spent hours there. There was an interesting used bookstore across the street, but the guy closed (two hours earlier than his sign said) just as we were walking up.

A couple of friends of Pete’s from the Radio Station had been bumming around Wicker Park and joined us there. Good to talk with them. The Final stop was Garret’s Popcorn for Pete’s aunt. I picked up a caramel popcorn for Amy along with a bag of Chicago Mix, which is a mixed bag of cheese and caramel.

I caught the train back to the burbs and, on the way, met a lady from Oregon who was attending a conference at Wheaton College for World Relief.

It was pouring when I got off in Glen Ellyn, so Amy drove over to get me and we ate at a French place called Bistro Monet. I had a beet salad with walnuts and goat cheese followed by a cassoulet with a duck confit, a duck leg, a lamp chop and garlic sausage. Amy had the onion soup followed by the chicken coq au vin. It was good ruddy fare and combated the rainy cold quite well. To complete my day of gastronomic suicide, I had the bread pudding with dark rum sauce. I made it home and laid there contemplating the damage I'd inflicted on my body. I did not go to yoga this morning.

We're now studying at Barnes and Noble.