Can you spare me a rib?

After soliciting reader input and carefully weighing my options, I opted to forego the opportunity to fraternize with undergrads in order to stuff my face at Ribfest. I decided that the undergrads at school weren't ready for my brand of all-day quad partying. After all, I'd already blown their minds by introducing snorkeling and the bomb squad (this entails doing car, jager, cherry, and dr. pepper bombs consecutively) to a bar near campus. Furthermore, if I had gone to dance with 18 and 19 year olds on the quad, there was a strong chance that I would feel as awkward as my friend Bill or his little brother for that matter.

Having decided to attend Ribfest, I set about preparing myself both physically and mentally. That morning I opted to skip both breakfast and lunch while also taking the time to relish in the fact that for once I would not be the largest person at an event. I imagined that I would resemble a svelte, pre-teen Swedish boy in comparison to the other rib-loving festival-goers. Therefore, it came as a cruel and shocking twist of fate when I quickly realized that Ribfest is no place for those with an insatiable appetite. While making my way down the street, I noticed that the fest was not dominated by men of girth but rather by wannabe foodies and other waifs who were perfectly content to stand on impossibly long lines just to get a "sampler," a small plate of 3 or 4 ribs.

After skowering the grounds and failing to find a line that was less than 45 minutes long, my friend and I opted for the longest line possible, figuring that if we were going to have to wait, we may as well wait for ribs that were creating the biggest buzz amongst the crowd. Luckily, with two of us, we were free to drink as much beer as possible as one of us held our space in line while the other repeatedly went to refill our cups. So with this system in place the line actually turned out to be quite pleasant (As the beer runner, I was reminded that I am very much a rookie when it comes to summer festivals in Chicago, for while I was purchasing beer in chintzy 16 oz cups, there were other guys drinking from the enormous plastic steins that are distributed during Maifest. I don't know if these guys were convincing the beer vendors to fill their steins or if they were purchasing 4 or 5 beers at time and pouring those beers into the steins. However they were filling the steins, it was abundantly clear to me that I have a lot to learn when it comes to maximizing my fun at these events).

Eventually we made our way to the front of the line and promptly devoured our diminuitive portion of ribs in roughly sixty seconds. So with sixty minutes of waiting resulting in a minute of pleasure, I decided that rather than wait on another line I would instead continue to nurse the buzz I had going and make my way over to the stage where a raucous blue grass band was playing. Since I was fueled by several pints of beer and was not weighed down by a stuffed stomach, I was able to enjoy Ribfest in a way that I hadn't anticipated. I was able to engage in, not gluttony as I had assumed I would, but rather my other favorite pastime...drunken dancing. The band was particularly appreciative of my moves for up until that point other people had been too preoccupied with their ribs to cut a rug, or the concrete as it were. So while it didn't live up to my expectations with regards to the ribs, I would have to say that this festival was a resounding success and I am now excited to see what else the festival season has in store.

Summer Time...Time to Sit Back and Unwind

Before I moved to Chicago I was told that the Spring and Summer festivals make suffering through the Winter worthwhile. After being trapped inside for several months, everyone comes out en masse to attend the myriad of outdoor activities that the city plans. For example, just last weekend my neighborhood hosted "Maifest," a contrived German holiday intended to fill the coffers of my dirty alderman (The corruption of my alderman and my impending campaign to unseat him will have to be addressed at a later date). He decided that Oktoberfest is such an economic boon, why not subject the neighborhood to another raucous fest in the Spring. So all last weekend we couldn't get into our local bars because the throbbing Frat faction guzzling beers and brats spilled out of the square and into the surrounding watering holes. I know what you're thinking, "Is he complaining about a huge party? That seems rather unlike him." Well, my only response to that is that I'm equally baffled myself. To my reckoning (mourning outghn't last no longer than grief. Sorry...I couldn't resist a little NHS AP English humor for those that survived Antoine's class), the fact that I didn't get to pre-game sufficiently is what led to my cranky disposition while at Maifest. Prior to making my way over to the square, I was busy preparing two huge presentations on the origins of World War I and another on the hetero-normativity that dominates exhibits at Ellis Island. So I didn't have time to have a few drinks to put myself in an amiable mood before dealing with the crowds.

I think my aversion for the fest also stemmed from the adverse effect it had on the bums in my alley. Apparently the Spring thaw doesn't just bring out Frat revelers, but it also brings out those inclined to sit around alleys, sharing 16 oz cans of Old Style. Our alley in particular seems to attract such people due to the amenities that we offer. For example, our apartment shares its alley with a movie theater that features some comfortable concrete steps leading from its backdoor. Since the theater is closed during the day, these bums have the run of the alley, drinking with impunity, knowing that there are no employees to chase them away. My balcony overlooks these steps, and I enjoy straining to hear their conversation. I'm particularly fascinated by these bums because, aside from the fact that they are splitting a can of beer between them at 11:00 in the morning, they don't conform to your standard image of a street person. Their clothes appear somewhat clean from a distance and their goatees are carefully manicured.

Until Maifest started it didn't seem like anything could dislodge these bums from the comforts of our alley. A couple of weeks ago they hit the bum lottery when the furniture store next to the theater closed down. After holding a clearance sale, some of the items that went unsold ended up in the alley. So my friends got to trade their cold concrete slabs for a cushy sectional sofa. On my way from the EL through the alley, I spotted two of the bums fully recumbent on the L-shaped sofa. They looked happier than pigs in slop, but apparently all their worldly desires were not satiated because they still asked for some change as I passed by. Now normally this plea for charity would have moved me to rummage through my pockets, but the fact that they expected me to move across the alley and place the money in their outstretched hands while they remained comfortably laid out on the couch really irritated me. I told them I had no change, that they might have some luck by going through the cushions, and went on my way.

But my annoyance was fleeting, and I grew concerned for their comfort due to the onslaught of people during Maifest. There'd be no hope for peaceful relaxation in the alley. So I'm not sure where they ended up on this particular weekend, but I just hope they return soon.

So while the bums and I didn't enjoy Maifest to the fullest, I hope to continue to attend the various activities planned by the city to reward its citizens for braving the Winter. After doing so, I will provide the JC/Bot audience with a review of each festival. To this end, I need your help. This weekend there is actually a conflict. Ribfest is taking place in the neighborhood just south of us. Unfortunately, DePaul is also having its Spring Weekend/Spring Fling/Dolphy Day (whatever you want to call it) on the quad. So I'd like the JC/Bot faithful to weigh in with opinions as to what event I should attend. Should I stuff myself with ribs alongside some of the most obese people that the Midwest has to offer, or should I dance and twirl uncontrollably, sans shoes, on the grass with some young co-eds?