Beep Beep: Whose Got the Keys To My Jeep

We've got a nice Chicago weekend going on, albeit with early nights because we keep scheduling appointments with various condo technicians in the mornings. Friday we saw Baby Wants Candy, an improv comedy team that improvises musical comedy. I've seen this show more times than I can count, and I am constantly impressed. These are some talented folks--they can all sing, their reference levels and character definition are fantastic and really fun to watch, and the band improvises along with them. Cool. They've moved from Improv Olympic to a rather small theater and I hope they don't think disc0f and I are creepy stalker-fans, because they'll probably be seeing alot of us now that we live here.

This evening, after a real nice Saturday buying window coverings, we headed up to Andersonville for the very crowded, very cute Midsommarfest. We discovered this particular fest (one of literally hundreds of billions of such street festivals that are held throughout Chicago during the summer) last year. At that time we fell in love with the delightfully cheesy all-girl cover band "Catfight" and the general cuteness of the very Swede-heavy Andersonville, so we decided to visit again this year. Andersonville is also populated by many a lesbian, so with the Swedishness and the lesbianism I really felt that I was among my people. After Catfight, we visited some of the artist's booths and had a really great dinner at a crazy Mediterranean restaurant where we sat by an open window and watched drunk revelers point at our food and bump into the flower box affixed to the ledge by our table.

The focal point of the evening was a performance by Elevation, our favorite U2 cover band. They'd done a show earlier in the day so FauxBono ("Fono")'s voice wasn't as dulcet as normal, but the show still rocked. One of my favorite things about these street festivals is that debaucherous drunks and tiny children coexist peacefully. There were tons of little U2 fans holding the hands or on the shoulders of their parents, rocking out to Fono, and at the same time a drunk guy kept poking disc0f in the head and giggling (we politely moved away after the second or so such poking). The debauchers tend to give the kids wide berth so there is lots of little-kid-style dancing. Presh.

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