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After leaving the comfort of the Quad Cities, Chrissy and I drove to Chicago, to spend a few days with his dad. We wolfed down a stuffed pizza, which you can’t go to Chicago without doing, then saw the Roy Lichtenstein retrospective at the Chicago Art Institute, such a pleasure to see those works in person and to experience how painterly they are. Market Days, a two-day street fair in Boyville, was happening around the corner from Chris’ dad’s place. We actually squirmed our way through the dense crowd of groping teenage girls and middle-aged gay men to hear Olivia Newton John’s performance. I’ve never really listened to her music, except when playing in the background at the houses of boyfriends even more sentimental and sappy than I, but I actually enjoyed her set. Do we suddenly shift into Easy-Listening people after 45? Hmmm… Anyway, she sang every one of her treacly bubble-gum hits. The gay men, and these annoying teenage girls, mostly born way after her time (what were they doing there?) seemed to know every word, even to “Xanadu,” and sang along tearfully. As she ended her set, she said to the crowd something about it being the time to say goodnight, when she’d usually disappear from the stage and then return to perform a surprise encore song. Instead, due to her age and the time of night, she asked if she could just pretend that she got off the stage and go directly into her encore. The crowd enthusiastically roared, and joined her in an a cappella version of “Let me be there,” hands clapping above our heads, smartphones recording, swaying from side to side, that annoying teenage girl pressed against my butt… Just let me be the-ere.