A small group of Vermeer folks, Sarah, and I made the most of our 3-day Labor Day weekend and road-tripped to Chicago this weekend because most of us had never been there. Jacob and Allie Limke, Kent Thoreson and Amy Hou, and Sarah and I had a blast. Jacob, Kent, and I are all Ag engineers at Vermeer; Jacob and I were in Enhancement together for almost a year, and the group of us do quite a lot together outside work. Amy's new to our circle but she fits in like she isn't, which is great.
The Limkes drove with Sarah and I on Saturday. The drive was a reasonable 5-6 hours, and I did the more-intense-than-Pella driving once we got to Chicago, but it was still very doable. We parked the car upon arrival and rode the train into downtown thanks to some good planning by Allie. Saturday was just the four of us seeing the Art Museum, the bean in Millennium Park, a little bit of a jazz festival, exceptional Chicago deep-dish pizza, and wandering down the river to the Navy Pier. We were played out by the time the fireworks were supposed to start but didn't, so we trekked back to the hotel.
Kent and Amy arrived late Saturday night after a friend's wedding, and were ready for action Sunday morning. The six of us started at the aquarium, but Sarah and I opted not to wait the almost two hours to get in and went to the nearby Field Museum instead, which was very enjoyable, but was all the museum we could handle for the day after four hours. We gathered up the group and headed northward toward our next event of the day, which I'd planned for more than anything else that weekend.
Right before I moved to Iowa, fiddler Liz Carroll and others stopped in at Riley's after a show at the Myrna Loy. Upon hearing I was moving to the Midwest, she told me how to get ahold of her if I came to Chicago for music. The week prior, I'd emailed her asking where I should go for sessions, not really expecting anything back. To my surprise, she responded! I followed her advice and led the group to the Galway Arms Pub.
Almost immediately after we walked in, I looked through a window, and there was Mr James Brown: the man, the myth, the legend from Helena. I'd seen him when he lived in Omaha, but last I'd heard he'd moved to Iowa City, but had since moved to Kansas City. In any case, I didn't expect that he'd be in Chicago, and happen to be in this out-of-the-way pub exactly when I was.
I had found out that my cousin Michael was in town for the Notre Dame game, so we'd planned to get together that night, and he was an excellent sport in joining us, and hanging out for the rest of the evening while I played for a couple hours in a fantastic session. I had not met any of the musicians before, but they were all welcoming and were polite enough to not shoo me away. I even knew a few of their tunes. I was lucky enough to sit next to the fine banjo player Pat Quinn.
The last surprise of the evening was seeing guitar player Dennis Cahill standing at the door. I did not ask if it was who I thought it was, but when the session leader asked him to come play I didn't need to. He may not be known well outside of the Irish music world, but for the curious, Youtube him. He played a furious, electric set of five tunes, a few of which I knew. It was one of the most memorable sets, and sessions for that matter, that I've ever played in. If only Chicago were closer...
Michael and I got some more long-overdue visiting in, then we all made our way back to the hotel. We set out again for Pella on Monday a tad slowly, with another round of adventures complete.
