Chicagoland
We’d been thinking about our Halloween costumes for days. The Chicago parties were both going to be dress-up, and we knew we’d have to sort something out. Just as we were about to despair, out of nowhere it came to us that we should be the Blues Brothers, and Joe and I took to the idea with excitement.
The first party venue was a place called Ontourage, right in downtown. We scored a cabbie from hell with a heart of gold who had no fucking clue where he was going, but did his best to be clever while being lost. After an hour’s worth of a 10-minute ride, we finally arrived and it was good. That’s Carrie and Kerry (above), who had also been bitten by the Blues Brothers bug. It was a busy big this year… we kept running into clones of ourselves at every turn. With Carrie and Kerry the sensation of staring into a mirror was so overwhelming that the girls were forced to break character and expose their decidedly un-Blue interior layers, lol.
Jake and Elwood made appearance #2 on Sunday night — this time at Enclave, where we had put down some sponsorship green. Some friends from Indiana came up and helped us make merry in the respectable VIP area that had been prepared for us. We had a pimp red velvet rope and a good 10 inches of platform from which to spectate down upon the ample talent in the crowd.
Paradise

By Des Moines, all we could think about was getting to Chicago. We were psyched. But we weren’t there yet. We wanted to save ourselves up and get strong. We chanced on a place to spend the night that must be what the RV Gods begin to dole out to you once you’ve got a few thousand miles and one or two waste hose accidents under your belt. There was a lake (that remained visible at night), an indoor heated pool and a hot tub with a view. We stayed 2 nights and did much that was restorative and strength-building. I’m still a city boy at heart, so it’s still a little weird for me to walk around in woodsy places at night. Of course I know there’s nothing out there… intellectually. But I guess I just don’t have enough experience listening to the sound of my own twig-snapping feet in the middle of the night to chase away the Bogey Man inside my head. On the 2nd night, I made myself walk all the way around the lake in the dead of night. When I was almost back to the RV and feeling all self-congratulatory, I reminded myself that I was not really in the woods. Nevertheless, the triumph meant something to me.
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