Punk is Dad II: A Return to Chicago

How's it going, folks.

Your favorite trio of former-punk rock 40-somethings once again dusted off their mosh pit trousers and decided to regain some sense of 'cool' this last weekend.  The Bouncing Souls - one of the biggest bands to come out of the late '90s/early 2000's era of skate punk - was making a stop off in Chicago, home to the infamous Jon Kimmel.  Having seen these guys at least a dozen times in concert together over the course of the last twenty years or so, it was a no-brainer that BP and I would have to make a pilgrimage to the Windy City.

Our punk rock street cred practically demanded it.

Anyway, what follows is a lengthy pictorial account of yet another weekend spent by a trio of has-beens trying to act like cool punk rockers in their early 20's. 

Behold. . .

I left Midland early Friday afternoon and made it to BP's place in Grand Rapids just as he was getting out early from work, and, having left my car in his garage, we loaded up into his and set off southbound for Chicago.  

Shortly before we crossed into Indiana, we decided to stop off in some random-ass, small town because Kimmel asked us - 'if we had time,' of course - to swing by some distillery he likes and pick him up a bottle of rye whiskey.  Seeing how he was putting us up for the weekend in his apartment, we figured it'd be a nice gesture.

There was some wedding shoot or reception or something going on in the area, so there was nowhere to park - we ended up having to park two blocks away from the distillery and hoof it.

This town was weird.

Entering Journeyman Distillery. . .

Didn't take any pictures inside, but if you think really hard and try and imagine a hipsterly, all-plank boards interior with Edison light bulbs hanging everywhere, that'd just about do it. We quickly purchased a $50 bottle of rye for Kimmel and got the hell out of there.

A little while later, passing through scenic Gary, Indiana.  One of the scuzziest places in the Midwest (and not in Ohio.)

Seriously.  The entire area smells like pure shit.

As we were leaving he clutches of Gary and moving into Illinois, the road tolls started to spring up (very reminiscent of the Houghs' Florida days. . .)  We were stuck at this particular toll for about twenty-five minutes because two of the toll booths weren't working properly.

A long while later, back on the road, heading west.

Another toll bridge.  For f***'s sake. . .

There was low-lying clouds surrounding the city, which made the skyscrapers look super eerie as we approached. . .

Who's up for some Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah?

"There ain't no finer place to be, than running Lake Shore Drive. . . "

Love New Deal-era sculptures. 

Zeroing in on Kimmel's neighborhood, which is at the northern most stretches of the city, right on the water.

Parking was a bitch, but we were lucky enough to find a spot about a block from his apartment.  Kimmel tried holding a spot for us around the corner from where we ended up, but almost got into it with an old lady.  Punk frickin' rock, folks.

Heading to Kimmel's.

Kimmel offered us some of these when we first rolled in.  I like me a drier cider opposed to the overly-sweet stuff.

Kimmel has a photo of the old Sausage Pad kitchen at Jefferson St. taped onto one of his kitchen cupboards, I'm assuming as a reminder to himself to wash his dishes (which, as you can see here, is something the Sausage Pad rarely did.)

Kimmel and his son, Henry, and wife, Kat.

Yeah, we're waaaaay up at the top.

Kimmel's apartment is much, much smaller than his old one (which BP and I visited on a previous punk rock adventure about five years ago) - they pay about the same in rent, he was telling me, because they wanted a place right on Lake Michigan.

After dropping off our stuff and visiting with his fam for a bit, the three of us decided to head out for some dinner and beers.

Not sure what these red flags are for. . .

Kimmel's apartment, on the second floor, being battered by waves.

He told us that this house - about two blocks from his place -  is a Frank Lloyd Wright house, which you can definitely see.  I guess they rent it out for wedding receptions and stuff like that.

Graffiti'd people mover in the background, there.

We ate dinner at this place, which was pretty decent - typical bar food, but good service and beer options.

Afterwards, Kimmel wanted to pop in this place, located right next door, and look at rums (he's big into rum these days.)

BP, checking in with his fam.

Most of these were rums.  Which was weird.

After that place, we went to yet another joint on the block, an old-fashioned bar that had clearly been in operation since the '20s or '30s, just renovated a whole bunch.  The folks who owned it now were clearly of the progressive mindset, as you could tell from their tabletop advertisements. . .

Kimmel orders us some shots at the end of the night.

Strolling back to the apartment.

Riding a creepy elevator up to the second floor.

When we got back to his place, Kimmel insisted we try this super high-end bottle of rum that he owns - something like $150 per bottle.  He said the rum bottles are loaded into the holds of ships and sailed around the world, where, over time, they soak up subtleties or some shit (I don't know, I was half paying attention.)

Don't get me wrong, it was good - super smooth, for sure - but I don't think I could pull the trigger on spending $150 on any bottle of anything.  Unless it gave me, like, superpowers or long-lasting life or something along those lines.

BP and I would end up sharing this pull-out sofa bed all weekend.  I've had worse sleeping accommodations in the past, it was manageable.

Playing some weird-ass card game Kat insisted we try out.

Kimmel is really good at taking group pics.

The next morning, following about, oh, five hours of sleep, Kimmel made some coffee and we walked around the side of his apartment building to watch the sunrise over a chilly Lake Michigan. . .

Not ideal swimming conditions this morning.

We were lucky we moved from our original vantage point - had we stayed there about ten seconds longer, we all would have been drenched by a crashing wave.

Group picture with the boys.

After we had all showered, we loaded up into Kimmel's car and set off for our first activity of the day: Record Store Day '22.

Back on Lake Shore Drive

We showed up an hour or so before the store opened, and the line was already wrapped around the side of the building of the store Kimmel wanted to hit up.

There wasn't anything on the list of this year's offerings that stuck out for Yours Truly, but both BP and Kimmel each had one or two they were hoping on snagging.

Some really bizarre paperbacks on display in the store window. . .

While waiting in line, I had to pop over into a convenience store across the street in order to snag an energy drink - I was dragging ass, for sure.

An hour or so later, almost into the store.

This store barely had any used vinyl - it was all new stuff, and priced waaaaay over market value.  I didn't buy a damn thing.

After each of them bought a couple LPs, we drove back to Kimmel's and picked up his wife and kid for an afternoon of walking around these local gardens.  Before heading out that way, however, we stopped into some Mexican place for some lunch.

Waiting for food.

Not a bad beer.  They forgot to submit our food orders, so after an hour of waiting we had to ask the server where our food was.  Mortified they had forgotten to put it in for us, they comped us the food and got our food out to us in about twenty minutes.  Free food is awesome, but we were sitting in there for almost two hours, which was not cool at all.

Arriving at the gardens (I forget what the actual name of the place is.)

I do not miss the Age of Strollers.  At all.

It was a rare 80 degrees and sunny, though - can't complain with that.

Behold the Goat.

We shambled about this place for about 45 minutes, thereabouts.  Not really me and BP's cup of tea, but it was alright.

(I don't feel like captioning all these pics.)

Driving back to Kimmel's place after the gardens, we drove through some super upper class neighborhood that all of John Hughes' '80s Brat Pack movies were set/filmed in.  Forget the name of it, but it's far ritzier than anything I've ever seen.

Then we came across this Baha'i House of worship, which looked like some kind of palace straight out of an Indian or Fantasy movie.

Some ducks, doin' their thang.

Back in Kimmel's building, ready for a quick power nap before heading out for the evening's show.  This hallway reminded me of the one from Ghostbusters.

After a brief siesta, we walked outside and Kimmel hailed us an Uber.

This was actually the first Uber ride I have ever been in - I'm late to the party.

En route to the show.

We didn't care to see any of these opening bands, so we weren't worried about showing up in time.

Chicago's Beat Kitchen.

This is a very, very small and intimate venue - just a small hall adjoining a typical bar.  While the opening bands went through their sets, we were lucky enough to snag a table and had a few PBRs and some fries while waiting for the Bouncing Souls.

Old band stickers plastered across the inside of the overhead table lights.

Cheap beer is considerably punk rock.

This was the smallest venue I've ever seen a band this big play in, it was pretty cool.  Their drummer was sick with Covid, so they had to train two of the opening bands' drummers to sit in with them this evening - about three or four songs apiece, due to time constraints.  Then they got a local session drummer to sit in for five more.  That still didn't fill a set list, however, so they ended up doing four or five acoustic songs in the middle of their set, which was super awesome seeing live.

Some of these pics are from Kimmel and BP (I didn't personally take anything during the show), others I snagged while stalking other people's stuff on Instagram.

(We know the lyrics, we're cool.)

We stuck to the back, not wanting to get in the mosh pits this time around.  Not because we're too old or afraid, mind you, but rather because the Bouncing Souls' merch table was located towards the back, and they had thirty or so limited edition, numbered tour posters on hand to sell out (for only $30 a pop.)  If we got sucked into a mosh pit, we would have certainly gravitated towards the front of the crowd, which always happens, and then we wouldn't have the time to fight our way back through the crowd in order to snag posters before they all sold out.  I'm an experienced show attendee, folks.

BP and I were both fortunate enough to snag one each, and later I was able to frame mine (like I did with the Boston to Berkeley tour one from 2017.)

Before heading back to Kimmel's, we stopped off for one more beer - nights like these demand a night cap.

One of Chicago's oldest breweries, or so I'm told.

Waiting for an Uber for the return trip (during which I completely fell asleep.)

The next morning, BP and I were on the road by 7am, and I ended up getting back to Midland by 1pm - made incredible time on the return trip.

As always, the lead singer for the Bouncing Souls painted a poster commemorating the night's tour stop, which I then screen grabbed off Instagram.  Looking forward to when these dudes swing back through our neck of the woods - I'm sure BP, Kimmel and I will make another appearance.

- Brian