Chicago: Day 3, the Entire Reason for the Trip...

Friday morning, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed and painfully get ready for the concert.  

We. Are. Old.

The convention center was no where near us and really, no where near anything, except itself.  Chris' hotel was attached to the convention center so that was really convenient for them.  

So we got to take a taxi there.  Our legs thanked us.

Once there, we got to watch them take pictures and do some rehearsing before the concert.  The hall held, and this is just a guess here, 1,000 people.

It filled up.

The day before, a couple of Chris' grad school colleagues came to hear rehearsal.  I'm guessing because they couldn't make the concert.  Especially since I didn't see them there and I feel like they would have found me to say hi.  Anyway, they sat in the back of rehearsal and just laughed.  Not because it was funny but because it was JUST THAT GOOD.

And it was really good.

I know very little about concert band music.  Okay, well, I know almost nothing.  I totally count knowing the names of the instruments.  That seems like basic knowledge and a step above absolutely nothing.

But I do know talented kids playing good music.

That was this.

My favorite piece was about potted plants.  Not kidding.  It was about the simplicity of a household item just doing it's job.  I kinda feel that way as the mom.  Both figuratively and literally.  Although, I could stand being as STILL as a potted plant every now and again.

The first trumpet in the Chicago symphony and his brother, the fourth trumpet in the Boston symphony, played a duet with the band.  One of them wrote the piece.  And that was clear.  They were amazing.  Lots of folks came to the performance just to see them.

Of course, I sat there thinking about their momma.  I mean, I'm certain she's pleased as punch at their talent and success.  But also, how many hours she likely endured them wrestling and fighting and arguing with her about practicing all for them to grow up, play on the same stage together and be brilliant.

It was comforting thought.

Way to go, Momma of Trumpet Guys!

The piece Chris failed to prepare me for was, "Amazing Grace."  An announcer told the audience the band wanted to dedicate the piece to all the teachers they'd had over the years to prepare them for this performance.

And because of that, the podium would remain empty.

The 60 or so teenage kids on stage were going to perform the piece WITHOUT A CONDUCTOR.

It was beautiful.  

I cried.  Everyone cried.  I wasn't alone.

Chris said that had been a hard piece for the kids.  Because they are told to sit still and watch the conductor for direction.  But in this piece, they had to move and look at each other and hold out notes even when it felt uncomfortable.  

I could tell that.  The kids were shifting and fidgeting and cutting their eyes all over the place.  It in no way took away from the performance but it was definitely noticeable.

They received a standing ovation.  For forever.

After the performance, it was a line a mile long to shake the directors' hands.  I visited with some of the wonderful colleagues I knew.  Lots of congratulations for all.  

The band was the talk of the conference.  In fact, the next day when we were flying home, Mrs. JT overheard a conversation about the band.  It was one of Chris' high school directors.  He said something along the lines of, "Yeah, one the directors, Dr. Evans, was a student of mine!"  

Here we are after the performance.  He looks nice in Vera.

These were the pictures before the concert.  Mrs. JT took them.  I was momentarily separated from my phone.  These are the moments when I'm super glad she's so picky about pictures.

We tried to zoom in.  On the far left next to Chris is the first chair trumpet brother from the Chicago symphony.  

And one of just the girls!  Mrs. JT cried when Chris conducted.  She'd never seen him conduct. 

After the concert and all the hand-shaking and congratulations, Mrs. JT and I went to walk around the exhibits while everyone packed up.  Then Chris changed and we headed out for some non-Chicago style pizza.  

All THREE of us.  We all loaded up in a taxi and went to lunch together.  Where I ate the entire pizza.  Heavens.  It was so good.

That night, Chris had dinner with the staff and Mrs. JT and I went on our dinner cruise.  I have a good friend from Chicago.  I'd asked her before we booked it if she'd ever taken a dinner cruise.  Her response?  "For prom.  Does that count?"  

So we kinda figured out this was a cheesy tourist thing to do.

But sometimes, you just gotta be a cheesy tourist. 

And this was so cheesy.  The food was so...minimally acceptable.  After two days of amazing, this was just barely good.  Now, there was a huge buffet and Mrs. JT got to explore that.  I got something plated out of the kitchen to make sure it was gluten-free.  So maybe Mrs. JT's food was better.

Maybe.

There were a good many company Christmas parties there.  Everyone was all decked out in their prom best.  There were a couple of special dates.  Those tables were decorated with rose petals.

And everyone said, "Ahhhhh..."

The best part was the DJ.  Who played every dance song you can imagine.  Our ankles/feet/hamstrings were killing us.  We had to just sit and watch.  Not that I would have danced anyway.  I mean, maybe.  But probably not.  

Mrs. JT totally would have.

We're like the ying and yang of life.

Regardless of the cheesy factor, we had a great time visiting and people watching and seeing the city all lit up at night.  It was really pretty.

And there you have our trip!  

All that's left is my run Saturday morning.  Temperature was in the 20's.  

Windchill had it down to 12.  

Degrees.

But I'd been crazy excited about that run all week.  Didn't care what the temperature was.  I was running.

Ran from my hotel down the Navy Pier, around the Pier (which is about 1.5 miles) and back again.  

I'd been planning the run AND the social media post all week.  I wanted a selfie at the end of the Pier.  One with the lake in the background and one with the city in the background.

I got neither.

Because my phone DIED at the exact moment I was taking the first picture.  

Clearly, God did not intend for me to post that picture.  

Sigh.

Oh well.  No one really cares about someone else's exercise for the day.  I think the saying is, "If you didn't fall off the treadmill then no one cares about your workout."  

Apparently, God must feel the same way.

But that doesn't change how good the run felt.  Nor how awesome the entire trip was.

Thanks for inviting us along, Babe!