Chicago: A girl named Sue; Rum for five, for two

I travel for work. A lot. Unless it’s absolutely necessary I try to avoid work travel on Sundays. That’s my time. I have a wife, a dog, hobbies, you know, a personal life. But this trip was a little different. My gorgeous wife Katherine and Darla—our 13-month-old coonhound—dropped me off at the Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport and I caught United flight 5689 to Chicago. Ostensibly I was in town to cover one day of the Enterprise IoT World event, but there was something else on my mind. 

I deplaned, got out my phone and briefly considered taking the CTA Blue Line from O’Hare, transferring to the Green Line at Clark and Lake, and then on to the Hyatt Regency McCormick Place where I had a room for the night. As soon as I saw the estimated travel time by a combination of subway and elevated train was upwards of 90 minutes whereas Uber came in at a hot 42 minutes, decision made. 

Forty-five minutes, a dozen restaurant recommendations and extended commiseration over Chicago-area traffic later, I checked into the hotel, dropped bags, washed the airplane off my face, re-upped on deodorant and hit the road. A quick 1.3-mile walk from the hotel, around Solider Field, and I was there. Well, I was almost there. A quick bite was in order; the Stroopwafel on the plane—as mentioned above, I’m a United guy—was delicious, but not quite enough. I hopped in line at Kim and Carlo’s Chicago Hot Dogs food stand for, what else, a Chicago-style dog: you’ve got your frankfurter—the snap is key—topped with mustard, relish, onion, tomato, sport peppers, celery salt and a pickle spear. 90 seconds later, I was there. The Field Museum. 

The film Jurassic Park had its theatrical release in 1993. I was eight-years-old, cruising in second grade at St. Richard’s Catholic School in Jackson, Miss. Spielberg, Goldblum, Sam Neill, Samuel L. Jackson, Laura Dern, Wayne Knight…this flick was a hit parade before you even factor in state-of-the-art special effects that, as far as I’m concerned, set the still-standing bar for cinematic representation of dinosaurs. My mom took me out of school early to see the matinee the day the movie opened. Take that social studies. I was in awe. Hell, I watch that movie at least once a year. Still in awe. Anyway, I digress. In the aftermath of Jurassic Park, a latent fascination with dinosaurs, prevalent in lots of children, really hit its stride. Some years later I became aware of Sue, which the Field Museum describes as “the largest, best-preserved, and most complete Tyrannosaurus rex ever found.” I had to see it. 

Fast forward some two-plus decades and the time was nigh. I walked into the glorious building and you could see her from the entrance, before you even got past the ticket counter. Side note: while this was absolutely worth the $22 I paid for general admission, museums should be free. Regardless, there she was. More than 40-feet-long from snout to tail, 13-feet-tall at the hip. The mezzanine level of the museum—columns, marble floor, high-ceiling outlined by the second floor galleries—was a perfect setting. With Sue in the background, it looked like the kind of place the Joker would attack during an after-hours gala. I met up with my colleague Drake, and it was on. 

Sue and the rest of the dinosaur exhibits were the highlight for me, but the museum is all around fabulous. When you travel with colleagues, an interesting dynamic develops. You’re coworkers, so there’s a certain level of professional decorum that needs to be maintained, but, at the same time, you spend off-the-clock time together, so it’s natural that you gradually learn about one another. In this case, as we walked through the extensive collection of avian specimens housed in the museum, I learned that Drake is an avid birder. It was fun seeing him examine exotic specimens that he knew of but had never observed firsthand. 

From there, a quick Uber ride over to the Chicago Athletic Association Hotel. I needed to get in a quick workout. Kidding. There’s a bar there. Cindy’s. It has a lovely view of Lake Michigan, the Art Institute of Chicago, Millennium Park and Sir Anish Kapoor’s Cloud Gate. The sculpture is made up of 168 stainless steel panels seamlessly welded together to provide a bean-shaped reflective surface that, on that day at least, perfectly mirrored the beautiful sky, park greenery and happy tourists taking creative selfies. This is also how Chicago earned its nickname—Bean Town. Drake observed that, oftentimes, public art installations, particularly things that lean toward modern art, are often divisive. Not the Cloud Gate—it’s universally beloved. 

But no time to dally at Cindy’s because there was another pressing matter involving small umbrellas, dry ice, plastic sharks, fanciful presentations and rum. Lots of rum. Drake and I had first met a few weeks prior at Mobile World Congress Americas in San Francisco. If I’m in San Francisco, unless it’s Monday through Wednesday, I will have at least one drink at the Tonga Room in the basement of the Fairmont. It’s a classic. Yacht rock, fake thunder, lighting and rain storm effects, and delicious, delicious tiki drinks. Knowing that our Chicago trip was around the corner, Drake suggested a place called Three Dots and a Dash. OMG. 

You walk down a side alley. There’s a bouncer and a velvet rope. From there, pitch black staircase below street level with walls lined with Disney-esque human skulls conjuring a pirate dungeon, I guess. For me it brought back memories of Templo Mayor in Mexico City. Then you enter. It’s perfect. The attention to detail is remarkable. We pulled up to the bar and picked an easy one to start off—the Rum Barrel. But, like I said, that’s an easy one. We needed something with more…pizzazz. Enter the Chief Lapu Lapu. For you history buffs, Lapu Lapu was a chieftain in what would become the Philippines. His people resisted Spanish colonization and ended up killing Ferdinand Magellan. In Three Dots and a Dash, Chief Lapu Lapu, a drink for two, is a combination of aged Demerara rum, dark Jamaican rum, passion fruit, lime and tangerine. I mentioned the plastic shark earlier. He was artfully placed to peek out of the drink, served in a Venus-type clam shell. Drake wanted to keep this as a souvenir. He placed it on the bar, asked our gracious bartender to keep an eye on it, and we stepped outside for a moment to discuss important affairs. When we returned, the shark was gone. Our bartender said garnish theft is a consummate problem. Luckily, we were able to secure a second plastic shark garnish. Disaster averted. 

Reeling in the aftermath of the theft, it was time to move on. Move on to the Bali Bali. This drink, a mix of passion fruit, orange, lime , falernum, Puerto Rican rum, Armagnac and dry gin, is designed to serve four to five people according to the judgmental menu. Drake and I had no problem with it. Delicious. But now it was time for dinner. 

My internet research told me I might enjoy a nearby place called Portillo’s. But it looked kind of touristy. So I consulted the bartender. He confirmed. Yes, touristy, but, he said when his family is in town, he takes them there because it’s a classic. Sold. Off we went. I was so pleased with my Chicago hot dog from earlier I decided to reprise the meal. This time I had two. And some fries. It was exceptional. Things devolved quickly from there. Piano bar. Stella with a Maker’s Mark back. A quickly rebuffed request for Like a Rolling Stone. To that point, it’s a keys-driven song, it’s a classic, I love it but it’s also more than five minutes long. I guess that wasn’t a good fit for whatever the piano player’s style is, or perhaps not grabby enough to hold the attention of the rest of the room. Billy Joel’s heavily-requested Piano Man fit right in. What an original request, right? Also, who the hell orders a tonic and gin? It’s called a gin and tonic. That’s sloppy writing.

From there, it was time to call it. I had a big day of Enterprise IoT World ahead of me. You can read about all of that over at Enterprise IoT Insights. I got a tight seven hours, shaved, suited up and hit the show. Twelve hours later, back to O’Hare to head out to Denver for the SCTE Cable-Tec Expo. Based on the response to this post, I could be compelled to share my non-work-related adventures in the Mile High City of which there were several, including at least two really, really weird ones.