A Weekend in Paradise

This has been the first weekend in nearly three years I haven't had to work. Yesterday my friend J. and I braved the cold and the suburban nomads to shop on Michigan Avenue. I bought a pair of cashmere pants for $32, and then went hog-wild on a shirt and tie. We had lunch and met Pebbles for a movie, The Matador*, and then came back up north for dinner at Leona's. Indescribable luxury.

And today is all about domesticity. I've just made my first Peapod order in three years, and they remembered all my favorites. I'll delight in laundry and housework, simply because I'm doing it on the day God intended: Sunday! I had wanted to go to church, but I think God will allow me one more day of luxuriating. I think I'm going to throw some bread in the machine and defrost some homemade soup.

For the uninitiated, I live in Rogers Park, one of the last urban frontiers along the lakefront of Chicago. Although I've had several homes over the years, I currently live in the first home I've owned. It is just two blocks from my very first Chicago apartment. In the years since I first moved here, there has been very little change. Then, about a year ago, Charmers closed. Charmers was the oldest Chicago gay bar. It had all of the original art deco interior. From the outside it looked like the most frightening dive possible, but inside it was pre-corporate sanitized elegance. I had only been inside three times, but I was very sad when it closed, and even sadder when it was renovated and turned into an Irish sports pub with gleaming wood and french doors that open out to the sidewalk so the entire neighborhood can enjoy their collection of Journey CDs.

This morning, as I practically skipped with joy to the scary convenience store for cereal and milk, my Sunday-morning revery exploded into orgasmic delight when I discovered that the art deco splendor isn't lost, but has simply been relocated to the shop next door where there will be a true neighborhood deli! One more space in the neighborhood saved from Starbucks and Barnes and Noble! They aren't open yet, but once they do open I'm ready to face the existential crisis that awaits me: do I frequent the neighborhood deli, or do I study at the Halsted Caribou Coffee with the magnificent sidewalk show? With such choices to be made on a sunny Sunday morning, is it possible that life could get much better than this?

*Mini Movie Review: The Matador is a refreshingly competent movie that, had it been made in another era would have been simply pedestrian. But given today's-Hollywood race to illiteracy and obsession with perfect skin, is an actual delight. Who knew Pierce Brosnan or Greg Kinnear could actually act? The dialogue sparkles, the pace is appropriate, and the cinematography feels European. I would say a must-see, if not in a theatre, definitely on video.