W: You want to tell ‘em where we’re at, Scott?
S: Sure, right now we’re on the Red Line at, what are we at? Washington?
A: State and Washington.
S: The red line is one of the longest lines in the Chicago El system. It goes as you can see all the way from the Dan Ryan 95th St. on the South Side up to Howard. We’re going to be up in the Howard directon North up towards Rogers Park—what is the name of the neighborhood the Green Mill’s in?
A: Ah, Uptown.
S: So we’re now leaving what’s known as Downtown Chicago, going to Uptown.
S: The Green Mill is a jazz club that we read in, ah, during our tour.
A: The Green Mill is home of the original poetry slams. Mark Smith is one of the guys who started out doing poetry slams back in, ah—
D: The 80s.
A: Actually, I think he’s been doing that up there since early to mid-70s.
D: Oh really.
A: Yeah. He’s been around for a while. It’s a lot of fun though, yeah.
(A guy sitting on the bench with a guitar starts to play a real beautiful version of “Easy Like Sunday Morning”)
S: I read there a couple times, actually, in “real life.”
W: I did as well.
S: Actually, it might be Sundays that they do it.
A: Sunday nights, I think yeah.
S: I don’t think they’ll mind us having our pictures taken there. Any publicity is…
A: Good publicity.
W: Did you bring some copies of the book in case we get to do some signings?
S: Ah… we’re gonna bring them next time, yeah. Oh no, that’s right. The truck is meeting us there. The CTA thing, though. We gotta confer on that. The day on the CTA. I’m thinking…
A: End of August, sometime in September?
W: Sometime in September.
S: Probably sometime in September works better. Mid-September. Friday.
A: While the weather’s still good.
S: It’d be nice to do August, cause then you get all the sweat involved in being on the CTA in the morning.
A: Right. All those bleary-eyed people on their way to work for the daily grind.
(”Sunday Morning” sounds just great, and the guitarist segues smoothly into “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Just wait till we get the audio up. It was real pretty-sounding.)
(We lose Dirk. We find Dirk. We take some pictures. They don’t turn out.)
S: I’d like to get a shot of you trying to throw yourself onto the tracks. Dirk, grab his arm. Now act like you’re straining to throw yourself onto the tracks.
S: Oh—just—for the shot.
W: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! (A scream of pain.)
D: What, I didn’t—Sorry ‘bout that, William.
A: Wow, that must have hurt.
632K RealAudio File