Medieval Times is pretty much unchanged in the 12 years since we visited last. It’s still cheesy, hokey, corny, overproduced — and it’s still a tremendous amount of fun. It pulls you in with brute color and spectacle, with clanging swords and thundering hooves, music, fog, drama. It grabs you and hangs on tight, and it doesn’t let go until the lights come up at the end of the night.
And yes, the girls said it held up for them, too. They were not only able to enjoy the show through adult eyes, but appreciate the production as well. After their backstage experiences, which have included working on the local stage crews for several Broadway touring shows (Aida, Miss Saigon), they could see and understand the sheer amount of work it takes to put on a performance like Medieval Times, from the lights, sound and effects to the costumes, sets and props.
And besides, they got to take a photo with their knight.
We had a slight mishap on the way to the Western Suburbs. No, not on the Chicago streets. Driving in Chicago is always interesting, but never as nightmarish as people make it out to be. Our mishap occurred before we even escaped the parking garage — an extremely tight, cramped labyrinth where traffic up and down the ramp shares a space about a lane-and-a-half wide, and where every corner is impossibly narrow and sharp, especially for us, in our oversized Northern Michigan pickup truck. We were entering the last turn, a right-hand maneuver of more than ninety degrees, around the wall and into the skinny lane at the pay booth. There was a car coming up at the same time, so I eased over as far as I could, a little farther, and a little bit farther still, and that was when the truck decided to strike up an intimate relationship with the wall. To quote Stephen Sondheim: Boom. Crunch. We now have an extra-special souvenir: genuine, authentic Chicago parking garage paint embedded in the side of our truck, and as a bonus, some minor body work ahead.
Today, our last day here, will be odds and ends. We tossed the agenda and decided to finish the trip just like we started it, hanging loose and playing everything by ear. Tomorrow, it’s an early start to Milwaukee for the Cubs-Brewers game, and then back to the snowy wilds of the north.
What have we learned? A lot. The biggest lesson, I think, is that Chicago is still the best, whether you’re a resident, a tourist, or a former resident who feels like a tourist. Despite what they say, you can occasionally go home again . . . but try not to do it during spring break, unless you like to wait nearly an hour to get into every restaurant.
I’m not sure if I’ll squeeze in another post from here or not. I’m guessing not. So I’ll leave you for now with one final glimpse of the lovely Chicago skyline, captured yesterday from the steps of the Adler Planetarium. This one’s worth clicking for the full-sized view.
I would have happily let a fairy, rogue or otherwise, take away a few of my own teeth for the chance to attend this event, but I’m so pleased that my daughters now have such great opportunities available to them, just moments away. A signed book is a marvelous keepsake, no doubt, but an evening spent listening to a world-class writer discuss his work is truly a lifetime gift.
