I expect great things from Chicago. I've seen the musical twice and the movie once. Despite all other evidence to the contrary, I expect leggy women in fishnets and gangsters. I am in a pretty great mood leaving the confusing twin cities of Minneapolis & St. Paul and resolving to (A) look at maps (B) ask for directions and (C) never get lost again.

In Chicago, I'm playing at the Elbo Room - apparently well known, although I think there may be multiple "Elbo Rooms" across North America. I'm staying with an old friend from New York - "Zev", as he was known then, is now "Bill" again - and seems to be doing great. He's a teacher in town and seems to love Chicago. I think it was him who described Chicago as "New York with everything you want from New York and nothing you don't."

I get in and meet up with Bill and we head over to the club. The Elbo Room is a funny place, with a small upstairs bar and a large downstairs music area that you wouldn't know was there, unless you were told. The sign outside doesn't list anyone tonight, but does proclaim that they have "good food" and "cool music" which I'm sure will draw in massive crowds.

I'm opening up for two acts - and I feel terrible, because I've alread forgotten one of their names (Pearl something?) and Halo Stero, from Nashville, and Budweiser's "Band of the Year!" Holy! I'm on first, then Halo Stereo, and then the local group that played there the night before (Pearl.... nuts.... can't remember) and was asked by Halo Sterio to join us. Another booking rant: why would you book two out of town groups (one acoustic and one alt rock) together on the same night without anyone local?


Oh well. We sound check. Halo Stereo are really pretty good. Plus they look uber professional. Their merch stand, complete with mannequins, includes their own lighting (next to my CDs and posters lit by candlelight). I ask them about being "Band of the Year" and they explain - it was a battle of the bands that they entered on a whim and won. But aside from bragging rites, it really doesn't come with much else - Budweiser won't pony up much sponsorship money and they seem a bit bitter about it all. In contrast, rent-a-wreck looks pretty damn great.

I'm supposed to have a couple folks coming out, but they don't show. Bill's friends also bail, so by 9:30, when I'm supposed to play, there's no one there except me, Bill, the sound guy, and the bartender. Even the other bands aren't there. This is pretty pathetic.

To defend myself - it's a Tuesday (right before US Thanksgiving) in a town where I've never played before and where we didn't get much press... so why would anyone come out? I don't know, but this sucks. The sound guy suggests that there are some people in the upstairs bar, so I go up, throw some postcards around and tell them that I'm playing - and most of them come down. Very nice.

It's actually a fine show - not a great crowd, most composed of other musicians (alt rock and much heavier musicians too) but they don't seem to hate me. I pick out a nice couple who, I assume, have come to see someone else. They seem to be enjoying it. I sing to them a lot.

Afterwards, I talk to Bill who, leaving early the next day for US Thanksgiving, is going to head home. I hang out with the musicians and then go over to talk to the couple, hoping to sell a CD or make a contact before the other bands play. Turns out these guys have come out specifically to hear me. Apparently, I was listed in one of Chicago's papers - comparing me to Blue Rodeo - and these guys know Blue Rodeo (a rarity in the States) and on a whim decided to come out and see me play. Awesome! They're totally nice and they make my night.

That was Chicago. A very small show in a big town on a bad night - salvaged by my friend Bill, and two nice ex-pats. No leggy women or gangsters - but a pretty cool town. And tomorrow, it gets even cooler because Irene comes to town.