To discuss a Weekend Update, Chicago style

I'm still recovering from an action-packed weekend trip to Chicago. I was attending a journalism conference, but, as I've written before, these weekends tend to be fairly eventful. Here, with photo evidence, is a Weekend Update.

Friday

• On the flight out, United reminded all passengers that in case of a water landing, the inflatable slides out the doors can be used as flotation devices. Because after your plane hits the water at 200 mph, you better find a flotation device and fast. You saw what happened to Jack after the Titanic sank. Rose let that bitch freeze in the water.
  
• United also had in-flight television, including a re-run of "Two and a Half Men," and a show about wildlife ... that included a guy with a rifle shooting deer. And they say the airline industry is out of touch with consumer needs.

• Trying to kill some time, I took a walk to the nearby beach (!?!?). People strolled by, dressed in winter coats, scarves and gloves. Except for the guy you'll notice to the top right of the couple. He was shirtless. In short shorts.
  
• After a few seminars at the hotel, the conference was moved to a nearby restaurant for cocktails and dinner, followed by a speech by an elderly college president. She took the opportunity to talk about the future of college education, reading from her lengthy article on the subject. I turned it into a wine drinking game. By the 18th page, she was brilliant. And sexy.
• I met up with my friend Steve Urkel and his friend, Eddie Winslow.* Steve and I have known each other our whole lives, although not at the point of conception (that I'm aware of). They took me on a little Chicago bar hopping tour.

* Both names changed to protect the innocent. And to get an awesome "Family Matters" reference in while talking about Chicago.
• We ended up taking a train packed full of slutty teens, 20-something alcoholics and 70-something creepers, to Wrigleyville, home of the Chicago Cubs' Wrigley Field, which has been home for disappointment for more than a century. Steve explained to me Chicagoans drink before games, during games and after games, thus making the losing tolerable. Even though it was November, people were drowning their sorrows all over the place. They are really dedicated fans!

• Random encounter of the night: One of the guys in the Sonic commercials (he's the guy on the left in the car). Random encounter on Sunday at O'Hare: I am sure I saw the UPS commercial guy who draws the eerily straight lines on the whiteboard.
• I saw more stretch limos in one night than I had seen in the past five years. And they were outside of dive bars. You stay classy, Chicago drunks.
  
• We got back around 2 a.m., riding on a train now chock full of regrets and Planned Parenthood customers. When I was about to part ways with Steve for the walk back to my hotel, he was kind enough to remind me Chicago is one of the tops in the country for murder. "If someone approaches you, shiv them," he advised. Unfortunately, I left my shiv in my room, along with my vampire stake and my crossbow.
  

Saturday

• There's something about being out of town that lets you get up early even after being up way past your bedtime. I need to trick my body into thinking my apartment is in Jamaica. On a side note, I need to trick my body into looking like Gerard Butler's in "300."
• After a full day of seminars (see, I did actually learn something ... for example, tuition is never going to stop rising and we're all screwed), it was time for another night on the town. This time, I took a cab with a bunch of reporters to Wicker Park, across town. We eventually found a trendy-looking Mexican restaurant, trendy because the word "Bell" wasn't in the name, and you couldn't order a personal pan pizza along with your taco.
• Half the group split off, and the hardcore people eventually went back to a bar that had a combination of waitresses struggling to make ends meet (otherwise, they would have been able to afford the rest of their shirts), Ultimate Fighting (Subtitled: Homoerotica for Dudes Who Experimented Once and Liked It A Little), and, by 11:30, karaoke.
• One of the reporters started off the night with "Slave 4 U." Another reporter and I busted out Spin Doctors' "Two Princes," in what critics called the finest song selection of a random 90s song at a Chicago karaoke bar this side of "Wonderwall."
• At one point, a very, very large man with a voice similar to what I imagine Snuffleupagus would sound like after an all-night bender in Mexico, asked my "Two Princes" partner and I to sing "I Want It That Way" with him. (Can't recall "I Want It That Way"? Try this.)
  
• Being that we didn't want to get eaten, we agreed. By the end of the song, two things were certain: 1) Once journalism fails me, I will go on to become a 90s-only karaoke DJ, and 2) Everybody is a closet boy band lover. That everybody included the DJ, who, at one point, sang a song of his own. That song was LFO "Summer Girls." I don't think he looked at the lyrics once.
  

Sunday

• The conference wrapped up by noon, so a group of us decided it would be smart to walk from the hotel to Millenium Park, a mere 4,536 mile 30-minute walk. It turned out to be well worth it. We got to see the shiny bean thing, which is basically one giant metallic funhouse mirror. Who knows how many countless marriage proposals, first dates and late-night cocaine binges have been done there?
  
• Next, some of us stopped at a giant indoor mall, where I found a man made of Legos. Is that a building block in his pocket or is he just happy to see me?
• Finally, I got the shuttle bus to O'Hare, and got on my flight home, losing an hour in the process due to Eastern Standard Time. That's exactly when you realize how ridiculously arbitrary time zones are. At exactly this moment, you are one hour further ahead in life, they say ... Well, readers, then I declare after reading this blog post, it's actually Christmas Day 2093. Merry Christmas. You're dead.
  

To discuss Fake Andy Shaw of the Month: May is for Repeats

In a historic moment, we have a repeat winner of Fake Andy Shaw of the Month. This is the biggest honor this side of Lisa and Screech winning the Casey Kasem dance-off.

May's Fake Andy Shaw of the Month is... ABC news reporter Andy Shaw, who made it to failblog.org this month for this blooper. He last made it as Fake Andy Shaw in March.


Several of you, who evidently think of me way too often, were kind enough to point this out. I'd be remiss if I didn't give bizarro me props for messing up.

I will say, as a former TV play-by-play man for college football, I can understand forgetting you are wearing a microphone when you have one of those headsets on. It's like asking someone where you put your sunglasses when they are on top of your head, or where you put your kid when you forgot him in the van.*

* Although that, technically, is a felony of some sort.
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I apologize for the lack of posts this week- the aforementioned computer death and the now-mentioned crazy work schedule=not feasible. Hope everyone has a nice holiday weekend...I promise to get you my rollercoaster-related post up soon.

To discuss fake Andy Shaw of the month: This one's kind of famous

Last day of February means last chance for my fake Andy Shaw of the month.
This one comes courtesy of several of you who have suggested this guy: ABC 7-Chicago political reporter Andy Shaw.

This Andy Shaw and I share many traits:

• He just finished an illustrious reporting career. I am just starting an illadvisedustrious reporting career.
  
• He used to write about education, I currently write about education.
• He was born and raised in Chicago, I have seen the musical "Chicago."
• He enjoys crossword puzzles, I think crossword puzzles are puzzling.
• His story coverage has taken him to Mexico, Canada, England, Ireland and Cuba. I have watched the Olympics in which all those countries competed. Also, I have been to Taco Bell, watched hockey, listened to Radiohead, drank Shamrock Shakes* and admired Fidel Castro's beard. So, again: similar.
• When you Google "Andy Shaw," he is the first name that pops up. I come up by page 3, but only because I write about other Andy Shaw's. I consider this a moral victory.
• This fake Andy Shaw was semi-forced into retirement. Soon, I'll be semi-forced into unpaid vacation...**

* My beaming face after drinking McDonald's Shamrock Shakes, not Helen of Troy's, is the face that launched a thousand ships. True story.
** ... News at 11. Well, actually, Monday or Tuesday I'll update you. I just like saying "News at 11."

To discuss a Weekend Update: Meet Me In St. Louis, Part 1

Because of the length, depth and height of my weekend trip to St. Louis, I am going to bust this down to a two-parter, since your attention span is already weakening your ability to...*

The purpose of the trip: Go on a business trip to St. Louis, MO (which, contrary to the post office acronym, is not in Montana. It's Missouri. This is why I prefer AP style). I attended a weekend-long seminar for reporters on how to better cover high schools.

This covers things I heard/was given/almost missed. As with my new Weekend Update standards, this is mostly context free so as to increase false assumptions and perilous conclusions.
Proceed:

Things I heard:
* "God I hope they don't make me take my bra-wl off." - A heavy, older woman behind me at the security check in Baltimore/Washington airport. Now, they already go overboard with all the security- let's remember that 9/11 happened with boxcutters, not hidden bombs in my shoes- but I did have a small hope security would cavity search this lady so she could make a big scene about taking off her undergarments. I'm assuming her bra-wl (southern for bra) had an underwire in it, or, in her case, an undergirder beam.

* I sat beside the emergency exit door on my first trip, an experience my airliner did not want me to take lightly:
Stewardess: (Stern look) "Do you understand all the responsibilities of sitting in this row, and will you assist in the case of an emergency?"
Me: "Does anyone ever tell you no?"
Stewardess: "I don't let them."
Me: (fear of God instilled) "Um, I'm cool." (Although, if it comes down to us needing the emergency exit, we're screwed anyway. Same goes with those seat cushions-as-flotations devices. I'd like to see the crash landing on water that would necessitate their use.)

* I have no fear of flying- although I'm not a big fan of death- so getting on planes is no problem. I do get nervous, though, when I hear the B16 gate attendant announce the pilot would like us all to board quickly so he can get home in time for the game that night.

* On the way to the hotel: An oration on the best places to visit in St. Louis, given impromptu by the guy who drove the shuttle van. I felt like I was at a traveling Southern Baptist service, only he was preaching the commandments of jazz and barbecue. A few excerpts:
On a dance club: "I'm going to hurt you with a little bit of blues, kiss you with a little bit of salsa, smack you with a little bit of country and hit you with a little bit of rock and roll." (That might be classified as sexual assault, but boy does it sound appealing.)
On finishing a plate of the best barbecue in the country: "I don't know what condition you will be in, but it will be delicate." (And sticky)

* On Saturday night, after hours of seminars, most of us went out on the town. The conference organizers arranged for us to all go drinking, as reporters are best known for alcoholism, misquoting and a liberal bias. Eventually, I took to the streets with a group of four- myself and three female reporters from N.J., Mich. and La. (take that, postal service).
The following conversation took place in a time span of about 2 minutes:
Old dude: "Do you know where Blah Blah bar is?"
Me: "Yeah, actually, we just came from there, it's down the street."
Old dude: (To Mich. girl): "You have a nice smile." (pauses... stares awkwardly)
Mich. girl: "Uh...."
(Enter homeless dude)
HD: "Hey y'all... It's my birthday today."
Me: "Well, happy birthday"
(The three girls start walking slower behind HD and me, as they are more street savvy and also willing to sacrifice one for the benefit of the group. They'd never cut it in the military.)
HD: (Sings a random birthday song he apparently made up on the spot... and then): "Hey, you know this song? Ba beeda boo, eh da di, booo uhh ugh."
Me: "No idea, dude. Are you beat boxing?"
HD: "C'mon, you know this (continues beat boxing and scatting in a manner I might expect from the love child of Ella Fitzgerald and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, only if that child was also doing crystal meth)
NJ girl: (To me) "Hey, uh, you want to cross the street?"
And, scene.

* Barack Obama. It wasn't clear, and it wasn't technically in person, but I heard him. He was speaking across the street, under the St. Louis Arch, at a political rally attended by almost 100,000 people (see tomorrow's post). People at the seminar stayed at the hotel, but you could hear him over the loud speakers. I made sure to look out for terrorist activity-- you owe me, Palin.

Things I was given:
* A Gideons' Bible- they're orange now. Evidently, green bibles are soooo last season.

Things I almost missed:
* The last out of the American League Championship Series. On my flight home, we had access to XM satellite radio in our seats. I'm not a fan of the Red Sox or Rays, but I still love baseball. On the final out, as the Rays are either going to blow their 3-1 lead or win the pennant, the freaking stewardess interrupts the audio by giving us the final deboarding procedures. She just stopped early enough to catch the final call that the Rays one. And to think I almost missed it so that I could be reminded not to stand until the seat belt sign was turned off.

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* finish this sentence. See, that's one down.

Coming tomorrow- Things I saw- Expect photos, including one with nuns.