Sweet home chicago




After we all woke up with ridiculously large hangovers we piled into the Truck of Justice and forced ourselves to drive back into downtown Springfield, IL. Driving through the wet Illinois capital in search of a car-park, we passed several liquor houses where we over-consumed the night before which was a sharp reminder why our heads were pounding so much. We parked the car and headed into the Abe Lincoln Presidential Centre opposite the Old State House where Barack Obama announced his candidacy for the Presidential primaries 18 months before.

The Lincoln Centre was informative, but was bordering on piss weak world with all the wax mock ups of a 6ft 3 man you can fit in a museum. It did wet the appetite of the Token Civil War Tragic Skuzzlefark with more civil war stuff than you can poke a bayonet at. Once the Don had set off one of the security alarms in the bedroom of the child Lincoln, the boys new it was time to hit the road and head for Chicago.

The Don has thought to bring a copy of the BluesBrothers soundtrack which made the trip just slightly less than most painful journey ever made by five blokes with enormous hangovers. With the corn fields flying by at 100 kph, the tunes of Sweet Home Chicago and the skyline of Hankcock and Sears buildings appearing in the distance, our headaches were momentarily forgotten as we looked forward to our adventures in our first big US city.

Once we checked in to our hotel we went to the hotel bar to meet the locals and get a feel for the town.

We were told there was a decent Italian restaurant down the street which we quickly moved to and were treated to the best feed we have had in the US so far.

Spurning our usual diet of Coke, fries and burgers we had osso bucco, pasta and red wine. We then found an Irish bar for a quick pint before bedtime.

Chicago turns out to be a very big city but Chicago also seems to be the frustrated younger brother of New York, never seeming to live up to the standard of its bigger older brother. But the people of Chicago have gone a long way in stepping out of the shadow. If Sears Tower is a huge expensive “two fingers” to NYC, then the rest of its skyline, a blend of modern, gothic, art-deco and art-nouveau demonstrates a city that has class and a strong independent stature that all Chicagoans should be proud of. Wow – that’s the most intelligent musings uttered on this trip so far. We don’t know what’s come over us.

In the morning we caught the underground and had lunch with a political consultant who is an expert in foreign affairs and is advising the Obama campaign.

He was kind enough to answer our silly questions and was honoured to receive an official Aussies for Obama stubbie holder as a token of our gratitude.

We hopped on a Chicago institution – the famous L down town train. Jake Blues was right, they do go by so often you hardly even notice. We headed down to the suburb of Clinton and to the Obama Illinois head office and got to meet some more of team Obama.

The office was in a bunker under the city, as if its operations were clandestine. We were buzzed in and descended into a maze-like floor packed with volunteers and organisers all running around with something to do. With the hand-written sign at the front door that read welcome to the Illinois Democrat Head Office and the temporary set up suggested this was a get in-win-get out operation.

One of the first people we came across was actually a Greens member from Sydney which was a bit of a disappointment – until we told the FBI that she was importing hemp from Byron Bay.

The girl at the front desk was kind enough to give us quick tour around the place and we met some of the people behind the operation and she introduced us to a highly strung volunteer from the Labour Party in Britain who gave us a big lecture on why Tony Blair and Gordon Brown were failing the Labour Party.

We pointed out to her that this was a road trip we can believe in and not a road tip we can concede in, and told her to take her whinny pommy attitude back to England we’re its spurred years of failure and misery on all its national sporting teams.

Following our pommy-bashing, we felt refreshed and thanked the staff for giving us the time of the day and returned to ground level and joined Chicago’s Friday night home-time foot traffic and walked back up the Magnificent Mile continued to look up at Chicago’s beautiful architecture, admiring the view along the way.

Friday night in Chicago rocks. Before we headed out, our pentagon of travellers was formed when The Rabbit joined us from a long overnight flight from Liberia via Australia. Once he freshened up, if that is at all possible after that journey, we headed out to hit the town and hoping no-one would hit us. The locals advised us to head up to the 94th floor of the Hancock building for a drink and see the city lights before we hit the town. The view was spectacular but the smell of piss on the outside of our beer bottles was slightly off-putting to say the least. So we headed down the 94 floors and tackled Chicago from below.

We headed to Pippens, a small Irish-Italian Amercian bar for a warm up drink and never left. Having an Aussie accent may be irritating to our sheep shaggin’ cousins from across the ditch, but in the US it’s the ticket to a great night with locals. G’daymateowyagoinbuymeabeercobber.

We met some girls from Cincinnati over for the weekend, some middle aged folks up from Ohio, a local who bought us a round of beers simply on the basis they heard our accents and countless others who all in their own little way made for a great night out in the Windy City.

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