The last post about Chicago and no, I didn't wait in line to see Oprah.

The last time I was in Chicago, I didn't have the opportunity to visit any of the blues clubs. I was very disappointed.

I did, however, ride every color line of the El trying to get to Frank Lloyd Wright's house. I found that you can get a very good feel for Chicago on the El. Chicago is very large. And in July, it is very hot. I got that.

This year, my brother Butch and his practically-perfect-in-every-way girlfriend Tara drove over from Ann Arbor to take me out to see the city. Butch lived in the area a few years back, and knows all the best places to go. But best places be damned; I only wanted to (1) try and catch a glimpse of Ira Glass, and (2) go to Buddy Guy's club.

It was easy enough to find the studios of WBEZ (in Chicago--I can't say the call letters without the in Chicago part), but of course, Ira wasn't there. He was, no doubt, spending Saturday evening with his wife (insert eyeroll, here). At the time, I didn't think to photograph the deserted studio, because really, who would want to see it? Turns out, I think you do. So for your edification, I offer this photo taken by Steve Rhodes. Same diff--it really does look just like this, I swear. They could be figuring income taxes in there for all anybody can tell. It certainly doesn't look like the workplace of a media icon. (Oh, Ira--can you hear the reverence in my voice?)

The shot of the sign outside Buddy Guy's Legends bar is mine, though. Buddy Guy was not there, but Jimmy Johnson was. We had some very good Cajun soul food, some very cold beer, and heard some very fine music. After that, we enjoyed a very harrowing cab ride back to the hotel. Apparently, at my age it is not possible to drink so much beer that a reckless cabdriver does not scare me to pieces.