I've written in the past about my cousin Diana Leviton Gondek, who's a terrific artist in Chicago. Among other things, she's worked with the Special Olympics -- who are based in Chicago -- even to the point of being commissioned to design their 50th anniversary poster. I've also noted the three fiberglass horses she was commissioned to create for the city to honor fallen policemen, one horse of which was on display outside of Mayor Rahm Emanuel's office.
It turns out that the Special Olympics is introducing a new program, where they feature artwork from their athletes shown side-by-side with professional art. The CBS-TV affiliate in Chicago, WBBM, did a report on this, and the Special Olympics asked Diana to speak on behalf of it.
(I think this could lead to a spin-off series, an artist who solves crimes as a hobby, finding patterns that lead her to the culprits, accompanied by her sidekick cat, Banksy.)
So, okay, yes, I'm biased. In either event, I can now refer to her as my artist cousin Diana Leviton Gondek as Seen on CBS News. And so, we take you now to our correspondent in the Windy City.
Donald Rumsfeld died yesterday at the age of 88.
On her show last night, Rachel Maddow opened with a long piece on Rumsfeld -- but I loved how it wasn't a eulogy, but rather more of a recitation of his despicable actions over the decades.
I'm not concerned with "Oh, how can you say that about someone who just died?" when it comes to Rumsfeld. How many died not only in unnecessary wars because of him, but wars we got into because he lied and manipulated facts? And how many lives did he hurt dividing America?
I've written here that I've known of Donald Rumsfeld for a very long time. He not only was the Congressman who represented my district when I was a kid, but we also went to the same high school, New Trier in Winnetka, a northern suburb of Chicago.
In fact, we even crossed paths once -- and there's photographic evidence!
And to make matters even worse, Donald Rumsfeld and I went to the same high school, albeit at different times -- New Trier High School in Winnetka, Illinois.
Not long ago, I wrote here about how my childhood growing up in Glencoe, Don Friedman (who roams around these pages on occasion) sent me a note about how he was going through some old photos and came across one from a class trip we took to Washington, D.C. Both of us think this took place during junior high, though the box was marked Freshman Year in high school.
But there I am -- with Don -- and also the other Don, Rumsfeld. You can see Our Congressman standing with the teacher chaperones in the lower far-right (and how appropriate is that?!) . And you can see that he signed it on the Capitol steps. That's me, the short fellow in the top row, fourth gremlin from the left. Don Friedman is to my left, in the light sportcoat and dark sweater.
I’m trying to decide if it’s a good thing or bad that I have a picture with me and Don Rumsfeld together. However, I take great comfort knowing that the two of us are about as far apart as two can be in the photo, which is a lovely metaphor for life…
I've told this story here about five years ago about the time a few years earlier when a friend with connections to the Los Angeles Philharmonic had an extra ticket to a concert and invited me. We met up at Disney Hall for dinner, where he saw an older couple he knew, and they invited us to join them at their table. It turned out that the women and I had grown up in the same area, and had indeed both gone to the same high school, New Trier (though she'd gone there a long time earlier). And it turned out, as well, that she had been a classmate of Donald Rumsfeld. In fact, it was with great enthusiasm and pride that she told the tale of how her fellow classmates had gotten together and convinced their Donald to run for Congress!
My friend shot me furtive sideglances that basically said, "Oh, please, be on your best behavior, I have to work with people here sometimes..." He had nothing to fear, I was all good cheer and offered no rants. That said, neither did I offer a "Hey, good for you all!!," that I sensed she usually got from others. But she didn't seem to mind, she was as convinced of the rightness of her actions as I'm sure her old school chum Donald was convinced about everything he did throughout his career -- even when noting to ABC News in 2011 about Iraq which he'd scathingly ridiculed others for disagreeing with him a decade earlier, because he knew better than everyone else, "My goodness, the intelligence was certainly wrong."
My goodness, indeed. There was no goodness involved at all.
Anyway, Rumsfeld's passing brought to mind an article I wrote for the Huffington Post on October 19, 2006.
Donald Rumsfeld and MeI
'm back from vacation at the Midwest Communications Ranch in Chicago. It was a good trip, cleaning up brush along Lake Shore Drive and splitting rails. The latter is a tradition here in the Land of Lincoln, though it also shows me to be a man of the people. Having bratwurst does that, too. To be clear, this was officially a working vacation, since I checked my phone messages every day.
Also, I got some reading in, and will be releasing my full list soon. But among those I did get to are "My Pet Goat II: The Goat Returns," "Gilles Goat Boy" by John Barth, and "Three Billy Goats Gruff" in the original Norwegian. I started "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, but didn't get much farther than I did back in high school.
(After grasping that it's about this guy who kills an Arab without being provoked and has no remorse, I flipped to the last page, curious how at least this ended. The back flyleaf simply said, "You might enjoy other existential French stories," and suggested 'No Exit' by Jean-Paul Sartre." Oh, God, no thanks, déjà vu. However, it was good to learn something on my vacation: who knew that neocons get their war plans from French existentialists?!)
I also read plot summaries of a couple poems by Shakespeare, and a biography of former Ambassador to Portugal, Frank Shakespeare. Also, "Dante's Inferno" (not really), "Sports Illustrated," "TV Guide," a flyer for The Corner Bakery, the Tribune sports section, and a dozen menus. And the back of a box of Cheerios.
It is also time to come clean.
When I was there, wandering through the ghosts and shadows of home and the past, recognizing that the Cubs wouldn't be winning the World Series this year, the memories swirled around me, and I knew that I had to reveal a secret from long ago.
Donald Rumsfeld and I go way back.
He may not know this. But it's true nonetheless.
When I was but a wee kidling growing up in the North Shore suburbs of Chicago, far too young to vote, Donald Rumsfeld was elected Congressman of my district. I would say he "represented me," but that's stretching things a bit. The district number? It was 13. Tell me that God doesn't have a whimsical sense of humor.
It speaks volumes when a young child not only remembers his Congressman from long ago, but was actually embarrassed by who that Congressman was. Most little children barely know who their cousins are. The only time they're really embarrassed is if their father belches in front of friends. But I was embarrassed by Donald Rumsfeld being my Congressman.
I'd apologize, but I was too young to vote.
Donald Rumsfeld was our Congressman for only eight years, and while that sounds positive, it actually started a long chain of good news/bad news.
The good news is that he resigned in 1969.
The bad news is that he was brought into the Nixon Cabinet and given national authority for the first time.
The good news. We got a new Congressman.
The bad. It was Philip Crane. A man so utterly conservative he not only was to the right of Rumsfeld, but to the right of Generalissimo Franco. (One of the prides of my life is surviving this upbringing.)
The very good news is that there was redistricting, Watergate came along, the backlash hit, and the wonderful Democrat Abner Mikvah got elected. An election so stunning, it remains legend. Let this be a sign of encouragement to all.
The bad news. He was elected by about 87 votes. (I exaggerate. But not by much.)
The good news. Remarkably, he was re-elected, even without the pull of Watergate. I believe this margin was 64 votes.
The bad. He knew he didn't have a future in this conservative district, so when President Jimmy Carter offered him a lifetime appointment as a federal judge, he took it.
(Most people actually know of Abner Mikva, but aren't aware. At the end of the movie, "Dave," when the former-VP is sworn in as President...that's Mikvah doing the honors. Check the credits. Okay, he's accomplished far more than that, but unless you want to read-up on his legal decisions, that's what you get...)
And so, it all starts with Donald Rumsfeld. And ends with a Democrat winning that same district in an election when the voters got fed up with a corrupt Republican President facing the possibility of impeachment surrounding an unpopular war.
Life is funny, and God does have that sense of whimsy.
There's an amusing thing in this tale, even if your not a baseball fan. But first, the background.
Last night, I was watching some of the early innings of the Chicago Cubs game against the Los Angeles Dodgers, but had some other things to do, so I left. I came back later -- around the fourth inning -- to check things out and planned to watch an inning or two before I got back to my other activity. But I noticed that the Cubs hadn't yet given up a base hit, so I knew I couldn't leave until the no-hitter was broken up -- or not. And so, I kept watching. And continued to watch through the final out because four Cubs pitchers together threw a no-hitter and won by a score of 4-0.
What was more notable is that in the 145 year history of the Cubs in the National League, it was the team's 17th no-hitter...but the first time ever that they'd thrown a "combined" no-hitter with more than one pitcher on the mound.
Making this all the funnier is that none of the three Cubs relief pitcher had any idea that there was a no-hitter going on when they were on the mound! Zach Devies started the game and pitched six innings, and then the three relievers were Ryan Tepera, Andrew Chafin and Craig Kimbrel.
Chaifin came in second, for the eighth inning. After he got the side out hitless, he was done for the night and so went to the Cubs clubhouse. “I’m sitting there with a couple of trainers," he said, "and there was a stat on the bottom of the TV saying something about there’s been six no-hitters already this yea. I started talking to them about it and then I turned around and they both went looking in the opposite direction." There is a baseball tradition not to talk about a no-hitter when it's in progress, so as not to "jinx" anything. But Chafin didn't know there was a no-hitter in program -- although everyone in the clubhouse did, which is why they all looked away from him. “Then I was like, ‘Wait a second, why would they be showing that stat at this point in the game?" Which is when he added, "‘Oh, [expletive], I might’ve just ruined it for us.’ But yeah, it worked out."
Even when closer Kimbrel entered the game, he didn't know either. “When Willie [Cubs catcher Willson Contrerar] gave a big fist bump, I knew something was up,” Kimbrel said. “And [Ryan] Tepera ran out there and whispered and he’s like, ‘You have no idea what happened.’ And then [Javier Báez] put me in a headlock. I had no clue when I came into the game that we had a no-hitter.”
Odd as it might be that none of the relievers knew there was a no-hitter going on, as the Chicago Tribune explained -- "The location of the visitors bullpen near the right-field corner at Dodger Stadium creates a limited view of the scoreboard. The Cubs pen could see the count, number of outs and some statistics, but the hit column was obstructed. The TV in the bullpen wasn’t any help, either. It showed an overhead view of the field because of MLB’s video rules. Plus, there are no box-score features on the screen."
And as Kimbrel added, the relievers in the bullpen could see that there were a lot of Dodgers on the bases during the game. "When you have a lot of traffic on the bases," he said, "you don’t really get as consumed that they’re all walks. You figure, well, maybe one of them is a single or something like that. But that wasn’t the case.”
I also thought of one other thing -- you'd think that someone would have told the relievers what was going on, at the very least when they came in to pitch. But I realized that no one would likely mention to them that there's a no-hitter in progress, since doing so would be against baseball tradition and "jinx" things.
Here's the last out, with Kimbrel striking out pinch-hitter Will Smith for the final out. You'll notice that when catcher Contreras pumps his fist in great excitement, Kimbrel himself is stoic, as if he couldn't care less. But when the camera eventually cuts back to him, mobbed by teammates at the 1:34 mark, his face is covered with a huge smile, since he's by then been told.
Yesterday, I was exchanging emails with a friend in Texas that had to do with the blistering weather there. I went to a weather website to track down some information, and once there I saw a headline to story about a tornado that just hit a Chicago suburb. I knew that growing up in Glencoe, north of Chicago and on Lake Michigan, we'd occasionally have tornado watches -- though rarely reaching the level of a tornado warning -- but the tornados (and most "warnings") were usually in the more outlying and western inland areas.
I immediately clicked on the article and saw that the subheading said that the area hit was southwest of Chicago. That gave me some relief, because I was mainly checking for Glencoe (where I'm from) and other norther suburbs where most of my relatives in the area live.
But then I realized that I have a cousin who lives southwest of Chicago in Naperville, so I wanted to check about that, though happily "southwest of Chicago" is a very huge area. And reading deeper in the article, it turned out that the down hit by the tornado was...Naperville!
This is where my cousin Diana lives. I've mentioned her several times for her artwork (including the memorial fiberglass horses she was commissioned to design by the City of Chicago) and the articles that periodically have been written about her.
When I phoned her, there was no answer, so I admit to a little bit of concern -- but she called back about half an hour later. Her family was fine, and fortunately they have a basement and huddled there, While it was certainly concerning as the tornado sirens were going off at 11 PM, with torrents of rain and gale-force winds, happily there was almost no damage to the house, limited mostly a little bit of the grounds.
However, when she went out for a walk the next day to assess the area, she came across where the tornado hit. Close enough, obviously, for her to walk to. (She quipped that before going out, she made sure to first put on her ruby red slippers. And no, just to be clear for anyone wondering, and not knowing her sense of humor, she didn't actually do that.) Not only was the damage terrible, it was only about a mile from their home. As awful as the damage was, though, happily no one died, and the one person who was listed as critical and be taken off that list.
Here are some of the photos she took of the area a mile from her.
And as Diana noted in her email -- there used to be a house here. What's odd is that the homes next door on either side were relatively spared, not in the absolute direct path.
After going a while without an "IneterMISSION" podcast from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, they appear back up to speed, and here's another.
This week, as they describe, "Six CSO musicians describe the power of sharing music with audiences of all ages, while working with a commitment for unified impact. As they also anticipate the return of live concerts again, each also describes the timeless power of the orchestra to connect with listeners."
What I also love about these podcasts -- and sets them apart from many, I think -- is that they also post links to full versions of all the snippets of music that play through the show.
We haven't an an InterMISSION podcast from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra for a while, so let's head back to the orchestra.
These are very enjoyable broadcasts put together by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, filled with interviews with the musicians, interesting history, and interlaced with a lot of music. This new piece features a conversation with Lawrence Neuman, who has been a member of the CSO viola section since 1991. He talks about how the requirement of viola players is more to play almost as one instrument, rather than have individual parts, and the challenges when one's role is basically to "fit in." He also discusses the way musicians work together to create the Chicago Symphony's unified sound, and tells the story of overcoming his self-doubt as a student to become a professional musician.
One of the things I particularly like about these CSO InterMISSION podcasts is that they don't just rely on the conversations themselves -- which are interesting enough on their own -- but they intersperse each episode with examples of the music being discussed. And then further, not relying on just that, they provide links to a playlist of all the music that was featured, so you can hear it more in full, rather than just as snippets..
You won’t believe this play by Javier Baez of the Chicago Cubs today. It is a must-watch for baseball fans, and a should-watch for sports fans. But even if you don't watch sports, I think you'll still find this fun. Definitely weird.
Baez has the nickname "El Mago" -- The Magician, for the unique, ethereal way he makes plays in ways that no one else does. Anyone who questions his nickname has to watch this video. There’s so much to comment on, but I don’t want to give anything away, it's too fun discovering it.
I’ll only set up the play. Here's the situation: the Cubs are at bat against the Pittsburgh Pirates. It’s the top of the third inning, two outs, a runner on second base -- and Javy Baez is at the plate.
Cubs color analyst Jim DeShaies has good commentary when they get to the replay, noting some valid and funny points, so for now I’ll leave the comments to him because, as I said, I don’t want to give anything away.
Okay, now that you've seen the play, here are a few observations on it. But watch the video first before you read this.
As remarkable as Baez's play is -- the first baseman Will Craig absolutely screwed up. There are two outs. All he had to do was simply turn around, go back to first base and tag the base. And Baez would be out. In fact, here's the amazing thing: if Craig tagged first base at any time -- even after the runner, Willson Contreras, slid in safe -- then the run would have been negated (in essence, considered a force out), and it wouldn't count.
Also, the Pittsburgh second baseman Adam Frazier screwed up, not covering first base, in case Craig threw the ball to him. Again, if he had been the one to get the ball and tag first base before Baez got there, the inning would have been over and the run wouldn't haven't counted, even though Contreras slid in first. In fairness, who would think of covering first base there??! But still, he should have.
But above all this, no matter how much the first baseman screwed up -- and he did screw up, big time -- it was the quick-thinking of Baez to try something so weird that it would be confusing and get the first baseman to focus on the wrong thing. And what Baez was trying to do was delay the play long enough for the runner on second base to come around and score. And what's so remarkable about that is -- again -- the runner, Willson Contreras, was on second base!! Who thinks of delaying a play so much, let alone under such strong conditions, to allow his teammate to score, not from third base, but all the way from second??! The list is pretty much "Javy Baez."
By the way, it was pretty heads-up of Contreras to recognize what Baez was doing and try to score. And know that he had nothing to lose. If he was tagged out, big deal, Baez was going to be the third out of the inning the moment Pittsburgh realized all that had to do was touch first base and the inning would be over! So, if Contreras had stayed safely on third base, it would have been meaningless. He realized that was no reason not to try to score.
Also hilarious in this video is that if you look close enough, you see the first base coach for the Cubs waving Baez to first base. Now, coaches do a lot of things, waving runners along. Whether to try to score, or to take an extra base, or to go back to the previous base, or to hold their position. But I am sure that the Cubs first base coach has never waved a runner to come to first base. After all, that's the whole point of the only place a batter can run. Unless you're Javier Baez.
And to top it all, the Cubs not only scored a run with Contreras sliding in, and Baez not only made it to first base...but he ended up on second base! And for a moment, it looked like he almost made it to third. And now standing on second base, Baez himself later scored, as well, on a base hit by Ian Happ, and it was those two runs that gave Cubs the margin they ultimately needed, as they won the game 5-3.
El Mago, indeed.
This is a very nice, brief video about the Chicago Cubs hiring Jeremiah Paprocki as their new P.A. announcer, making his debut at Wrigley Field last night. He's only 21, in fact still a senior at the University of Illinois, Chicago -- and is the first African-American P.A. announcer in the team's history.
No, not that one.
This is a big treat for classical music lovers. But I also think that for those who aren't, at the very least the first 201 minutes of this video may well still be fascinating. It's similar to a video a posted a while back but for a different Beethoven symphony. That was for the famous Fifth, this for the Seventh. (Though that might be my favorite -- and if not, then a razor-thin close second place.)
I comes from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s centennial season, Their longtime conductor and music director Sir Georg Solti had recently been named the orchestra's first music director laureate, and he conducted them in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7. It was recorded on Oct. 17, 1991, for PBS’ Great Performances, an episode they called "The Symphony of Rhythm."
What makes the broadcast so special is that this isn’t just Solti conducting Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, but the video begins with over 20 minutes of Solti talking about how and why he chose to interpret the performance this new way, throwing out his old notes to look at it fresh. His discussion -- often sitting at a piano and playing examples of what he's describing -- is intercut with extensive clips of him rehearsing the orchestra to get what he wants. Only after that do they have the full piece. The whole thing is wonderful but it's that first 21 minutes that's riveting. So, you really get an idea what a conductor does, better than almost anything I’ve seen – and you also see why Solti and the CSO were considered so great together.
For those who only want to see and hear the symphony itself, you can jump to the 21:00 mark. Any who just want to see the documentary part, it runs...well, 21 minutes. But you probably figured that out.
Because it's only on the CSOtv website, I can't embed it on these pages, but you can watch it here.
And one caveat: I don’t know how long this video will be available to watch. The earlier one with the Seventh Symphony is no longer online, though I originally posted that five months so, so there's no way for me know how when it was taken down. I suspect it should be up for at least a few weeks, but no guarantees
This is a one-minute "teaser" trailer that will give you a brief idea of what those first 21 minutes are like.
We're going with "beatific" today, in part to continue our weaning process from politics every single day and in part because I don't want my head to explode.
I've periodically mentioned the Chicago Botanic Garden, but that name doesn't do it justice. This isn't your standard botanic garden, or even anything close. It's not even your nicer-than-usual botanic garden, or even anything close. I generally describe it as the Disneyland of Botanic Gardens -- and I don't think that's especially hyperbolic as a joke, but pretty accurate. Albeit with a completely natural grandeur and spectacle.
After all, the grounds are divided into different "lands," each creating their own inclusive worlds when you enter, including the Rose Garden, English Walled Garden, Japanese Garden, Waterfall Garden, Island Garden, the Prairie Garden, a Fruit and Vegetable Garden, and the Aquatic Garden (which, for all its simplicity, is probably one of my two favorites, along with the Waterfall Garden, because it wends its way in a zigzag path over a pond filled with fish,) And a wonderful Greenhouse center divided into two areas, among them a Cactus Garden. And more, as well. And a Ddisability Garden, too.
Moreover, there are tram tours, a miniature train exhibit, and the ethereal Winter Lightscape that will remind many of the Main Street Electrical Parade, albeit on a more peaceful level. Along with a restaurant, major educational center and more. Lots more.
As well as restaurant, major educational center, cooking demonstration area and more. Yes, even for all that, lots more. Though all on a peaceful, relaxing, engergizing level.
All that said, I have a fond connection to the place for personal reasons. Though it's called the Chicago Botanic Garden and run by the Chicago Horticultural Society, it's actually located in the northern suburb of Glencoe, where I grew up. In fact, walking distance from our house -- a long walk, probably three miles to the main entrance, though a short walk, probably half that, to its rear. And only about a mile from the Ravinia Music Festival, which I've mentioned here often, and worked at for a couple of summers, the summer home of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.
The particular fondness, though, extends beyond just its location and overlaps with its construction. The gardens officially opened in 1972 in an area of the Chicago Forest Preserves, bordered by Green Bay Road and Skokie Boulevard, with the entrance on Lake-Cook Road, dividing the two counties.. However, it took a full seven years to develop once groundbreaking started. But even longer since signs first went up announcing it in 1962, informing passers-by of the "Future location of the Chicago Botanic Garden."
And it was that sign along Green Bay Road that we'd pass all the time in the family car that became a hilarious running joke with me and my older brother when I was just a wee kidling and him only a few years older. When you're a little kid, the structure of time is a flexible thing. So, "The future home" of something means it should be opening soon, and yet six months later the sign is still there. And then a year later. And two years -- and they haven't even broken ground yet. Then three-four-five years. The future home! And we'd pass by that sign, not every year, but several times a week, a hundred times a year. After year, after year, after year. And after five years, there was still no end in site.
My brother and I thought it was the funniest thing. We figured that they weren't probably going to build anything, but that they'd only paid for the sign. I grew up with that sign. Six years, seven years, eight. Still "The future home of the Chicago Botanic Garden." I was finally driving and could pass by it on my own after a while. So funny, seeing that sign. Nine years -- nothing. No Chicago Botanic Garden. Then a full decade!! Ten years of that sign: The Future Home of the Chicago Botanic Garden.
And then finally -- it actually opened.
And it was...spectacular. And it was well-worth the wait. (Now, it was worth the wait. Ten to 15 years after it opened, it was worth the wait. When you're still a youth, having waited more than half your life for the "future home" to open, I can't say I felt it was worth the wait immediately. But even at that, even at that young age, even for all those years -- a decade waiting -- I understood why the wait was so long.
And it really is worth it.
I'm a member of the Garden, even though I no longer live there and live 2,000 miles away. But I go visit it every time I'm in town. And it's glorious wandering through the various lands and hiking in the forest and just sitting and letting it all soak in.
The only "problem" is that it's incredibly difficult explaining to people why it's so special. Photos I've taken and ones they have on their website don't even start to show its scope. Let alone give a sense of the sweetness and fragrance of the air.
I did track down a few videos that at least given a small idea of what the Chicago Botanic Garden is like. And this one, taken and edited by a visitor is particularly good.
(As the whimsy of luck would have it, the freeze-frame image of the video below is one of my two faves, the Aquatic Garden. As I said, it's very simple compared to the rest of the grounds, but -- what can I say? I love walking the crooked wooden path over the water and looking for the fish. Besides which, it's a bit hidden off in a corner, so it's less crowded. It comes on the video at the 3:25 mark for 20 seconds. As for my other fave, the Waterfall Garden, it's be pretty clear when that shows up. Though the don't get the full vista view.
And this is the Winter Lightscape. It's pretty remarkable. (To be clear, as the fellow who made the video says Lightscape did indeed begin in 2019. However, they've had a winter light event for years, just not as substantial.)
Unfortunately, I've never seen the Winter Lightscape in person. By the time they started doing it, I think I had left Chicago. And though I always came back every winter -- yes, I took a vacation in Chicago in the winter. Every year... -- I would avoid the busy holiday season and come after the first of year, and then after the Consumer Electronics Show which I covered. So, by the time I'd get there, Lightscape would be over. But at some point, I'll get there.
(My aunt and cousin did go for their first time this past winter, which it was opened during the pandemic with limited tickets available and scheduled with social distancing. They were both awed by it, and sent me their own videos and photos, which was the first time I'd had a chance to see in detail what it was.)
Hey, just look at this single freeze-frame image alone. I'm telling you -- it is spectacular. When you enter and see more in the video, you'll know.
Finally, I'm going to end with one more video as a bonus. This is an "official" one made by the Chicago Botanic Garden itself. It's very good, though I think that homemade one gives an even better sense of the full grounds. But -- what this does that the other doesn't, and which adds a great deal, is aerial footage of the place, so you get a far richer perspective of it all. And shows it across the four seasons.
So...this is why I love the Chicago Botanic Garden. And why I say it's not even close to just a normal botanic garden, but a world of its own. And why calling it the Disneyland of Botanic Gardens is not an exaggeration. But may not do it justice either.
Not bad for "The future home..."
And yes, it was worth the wait. Funny as it was.
Robert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting.
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