The Weekend in Foolish Attention

Bits and bytes of the week

HOME STRETCH. The Chicago JazzFest was an absolute exhausting blast. So many amazing artists, so much incredible music, so many people in Chicago coming out to hear it all. I’m genuinely grateful for this summer in a way I wasn’t prepared for five years ago when I performed the same role.

I suppose the difference can be summed up this way: in 2018, this was a job and in 2024, it has been an opportunity. An opportunity to reinvent my life, an opportunity to build the front of house experience into something unique and special, an opportunity to wallow in some big moments in Chicago’s ever changing history. As proud as I am that my crew performed at such a high level that for both the producing organizations and the audiences the experience was not only seamless but far better than expected, I am far more appreciative of the privilege afforded to work with great people in an extraordinary place in the greatest city in the world.

Back in June, my Deputy and I were constantly called upon to solve problems for our crew—from guests breaking simple park rules to medical emergencies—the two of us were both ever-present and beaten down by the heavy lift. Three months later, the group we managed only needed us when things became dire because they knew how to solve the problems and had been given the power to make their own decisions on the fly.

GospelFest. House Fest. BluesFest. The Grant Park Music Festival. Millennium Park Music and Film Series. Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me!, the Lyric Opera, the Joffrey Ballet. NASCAR. The DNC. Woof, whatta summer!

September is now the wrap-up. We have three or four more events in the park but none too huge. We have our Usher Appreciation Party at Haymarket Pub & Brewery of which I’m really looking forward. We’ll spend the next few weeks cleaning up, taking inventory, stocking up for next season, and setting the stage for whomever comes in next. It might be that I will be available and jump back into the role and it might be that I’m engaged in something else. I’m open and ready for anything. I can feel very satisfied with my first seven months back in Chi.

MUST SEE. The official description for the movie reads, "A young Donald Trump (Sebastian Stan), eager to make his name as a hungry scion of a wealthy family in 1970s New York, comes under the spell of Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong), the cutthroat attorney who would help create the Donald Trump we know today. Cohn sees in Trump the perfect protégé — someone with raw ambition, a hunger for success, and a willingness to do whatever it takes to win."

Pay it forward. Buy friends tickets. Take them to see this.

LOOKING FOR LOVE. You know, as a single man living in the Big City, I’m always looking out for an advantage in the courtship game and I believe I have finally come upon the way to a woman’s heart: Hellmann’s to launch first ever mayonnaise fragrance. I mean, sure, the women this scent will attract will be looking for a sandwich but I could just hang out at a deli to get dates.

NO GUNS, NO MASS SHOOTINGS. If a rabid dog attached people, mangling them in the streets, it may be interesting to wax on about the abuse the dog suffered at the hands of other people but that intellectual ruminating doesn’t stop the dog from biting down on a four-year old’s arm hard enough to crack the bone, does it?

As complicated as life is, as terribly complex the system of intersectionality and psychological barriers we face, there is a simplicity to embrace.

If they didn’t have guns, they couldn’t kill people so easily.

This is not a value judgment on anyone’s state of mind. This is not a moral argument. This has fuckall to do with the hardships someone has gone through that brought him to a point where shooting someone seems to be the only recourse.

Simple math. If he didn’t have a fucking gun, those people would still be breathing.

Don’t have one of these for the most part…

NOT SO SOCIAL MEDIA. HEADLINE: Humboldt Park 'basement' comedy club shut down after Instagram video goes viral.

The paradox of the underground venue is that it is, well, underground but if it’s cool, people talk about it. As soon as social media gets a hold of it and it becomes a thing, it is no longer underground and subject to the same rules as everyone else. I recall underground supper clubs back in the day. Word of mouth only, in private homes, by chefs with no catering license. Once, Alice and I dropped $200 to sit with a small group of strangers, bring our own booze, and enjoy a truly amazing meal. We made some new acquaintances, ate well, and felt all exclusive in the process.

Humboldt Park resident Nathan Weil operated the secret space out of his home. Potted plants adorned the basement venue to give it a jungle feel, and patrons could bring their own alcohol. The shows had become popular enough to attract the attention of the popular Best Date Food Instagram page, which posted a video of the space in late August.

And now they are shut down. I’d suggest banning all phones during the underground “Don’t talk about Fight Club” vibe. It keeps it strictly word of mouth, offline, and cool. Otherwise the G takes notice and wants their cut.

It is the conundrum of BUGHOUSE! As well. I prefer the underground vibe but promotion needs to happen. I despise social media but it’s the easy way to inform people. Time to hit the streets!

MAYBE IT’S MY AGE, BUT… The music of Neil Diamond is fucking great. Seriously. If I write “Sweet Caroline — BAH BAH BAAAHHH — Good times never felt so good…” that shit will ear worm you for the rest of the day.

GETTING FRUGAL. Mom taught me that you’re never poor, you’re just broke. Joe is in a similar place and we waxed over culling through streaming services in order to pay more essential bills. Neither one of us is in bad shape. He’s been very good about managing his finances and I’m becoming the king of the gig economy. Balancing out what will be made in the next few months versus what must be spent to kick things around is talent I’ve had for decades.

Combine that with my limited social tendencies these days and I’m rocking this. The Big Question asked of me in the past month is Will you be coming back to the park next summer? The answer is I don’t know but I’d be open to it. It feels like I’ve started to build on a very unique way of approaching things around there and it would be satisfying to set some of those practices in soil to grow. It all depends on how open my schedule is (which, if I’m on it, won’t necessarily be the case).

It all feels like graduating summer camp and getting jacked up for the real world here in Chicago. And, that, my friends and neighbors, is exactly as I predicted. Establish a new routine, save some bucks when I can, get back into the groove. It’s a groove I’m suited for, a life I love.

In the meantime, September is the start of the next chapter and will include some performing, some shows, and a quick trip to Kansas to celebrate my folks’ birthdays. Rock.

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That’s the weekend in foolish attention, gang! Lock down Tuesday, September 23rd for BUGHOUSE! It’s only five bucks which means you could bring a date, argue about the topics, then go have make up sex.