Listing Through Life

We passed this fountain on the Shoreline tour early in the day. I remembered hearing that it occasionally shot an arc of water across the river. I decided to search it out later in the day. My plans were delayed by the rain, but I still went looking and found it on my way back to the station.

It was raining harder by this time. There’s a sheltered area within the fountain where I could walk behind the waterfall. This made for an unusual but rather fun place to wait out a rain storm. I hung out there for about five minutes. The fountain is at the end of a residential street, and there wasn’t a vehicle or person in sight on my side of the river, a rarity in downtown Chicago, and one I appreciated.

I didn’t see the fountain shoot across the river. I didn’t know how often it did it, and I didn’t want to wait around too long. I found out later it happens at the top of every hour for 10 minutes, so next time I’ll be ready.

The fountain was built in 1989 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago. The arc of water supposedly marks the spot where the Lake Michigan and Mississippi River watersheds meet.

When the storm finally let up, I began walking back to the Metra Station. I was walking across the grassy plot in front of Navy Pier when I happened upon this statue. I was alone, and the couch was wet, so I passed on the photo ops. Next time.

After everyone else took off, I sat in a bus stop kiosk and tried to get a photograph of the almost-constant lightning out over the lake. What I got was a lot of pictures of the lake — and the Shoreline Cruise boat we’d ridden on earlier — but no lightening.

Before long, the rain began coming down harder. I moved to the sheltered side of the kiosk and watched two policemen getting drenched as they flagged down every taxi that came by looking for one that took credit cards. (I have no idea why they were doing this.) After they found their taxi, they came and stood under the kiosk with me and talked about all the stupid tourists who were across the street playing in the fountain when there was lightning in the area.

Across the way, in Gateway Park, I could see several of the Cool Globes: Hot Ideas for a Cooler Planet. There were 12 of these in total, and they were billed as “an innovative, informative and educational display designed to increase awareness of global warming and ecological problems affecting the earth.”

The wind shifted, and the kiosk ceased to be a shelter. I made a dash for Navy Pier and joined the vast swarm that was gathered under the front porch. People were packed in tight, most of them trying to flag down a taxi. I leaned against the wall and contemplated life. (It’s amazing how lonely you can be in a crowd.)

That got old quickly. I headed inside and walked the aisles. The pajama band was in the middle of another set. Several leaks in the roof provided proof that the storm was still raging.

I wandered back through the Crystal Gardens and watched the fountains that arched over the walkways, then stood by the window and watched the rain pour off the roof by the (still closed) Ferris wheel.

I already told you how I lost my $30 gift card and so couldn’t enter the Fun House Maze. I thought about taking another look at the stained glass museum. (No I didn’t). I finally just turned around and wandered back the way I came, through the Crystal Gardens, past the pajama band (still playing lullibies) and back through the long line of shops. That’s when I saw the funniest sight of the day. One of the shops had put up a temporary sign on the doorway.

I was tempted to go inside and tell the guy, “Hey, it’s nothing to brag about. A lot of people do.”

The front porch was still crowded with people. I stood around for perhaps 15 more minutes watching the sky getting lighter and the rain slowing down. One lady ran out to get a taxi and fell on her behind in a huge puddle, for which she got an ovation from the crowd.

When it no longer seemed dangerous, I set out. I took a picture of the Gateway Park fountain across the street, then set out for the Loop.

We never did decide on anything specific to do. Not anything that was open, anyway. We walked all the way to the end of Navy Pier. The thunder- storm hit just as we reached the end, so we walked all the way back to the front door inside the building.

This brought about the most serendipitous event of the day, our walk through the Smith Museum of Stained Glass. The museum stretches for about 200 yards along both sides of the main hallway. Large windows portraying religious scenes, floral designs, pastoral landscapes, and various other designs were backlit, providing all the light in the area.

We were fascinated and spent hours studying each piece. We could barely tear ourselves away, but we all promised each other that we would set aside a whole day and come back and spend it in the museum.

OK, maybe it wasn’t all THAT exciting.

After we finished lunch at Bubba Gump, four members of our group took off for home. The six of us who stuck around headed off in search of adventure. We hadn’t gone far before we came across a performance stage. Several people were sitting on the benches, and a sign informed us that the next show was about to begin.

The stage was decorated with all things pirate, and the group was billed as The Tradewinds Steel-Drumming Pirates. One of my coworkers convinced us that all the shows he’d seen in the past were excellent, so we found a place on the nearby stairs and settled in. We expected a show with a lot of “avasts” and “aarrghs.”

What we got was three dorks in pajamas playing lullabies. Someone advanced the opinion that they were the opening act for the pirates. Someone else thought perhaps they were the people the pirates were going to attack. Whatever. We couldn’t bear it for more than a single song.