In Chicago, you can’t wander too far past the fringe or you’ll run into Lake Michigan. So, on straying from the beaten path, tread carefully. You may run into ghost voters, rookie sailors, lousy baseball players or old steel mills. But it’s better than fighting the Democratic National Convention crowds at the more-reliable Art Institute of Chicago or Navy Pier.
When the conventioneers start massing downtown, gaping at the big buildings, run for cover at some of these places:
– Graceland Cemetery (4001 N. Clark St., 312-525-1105). It’s an appropriate time to pay your respects to some of the most famous Democratic voters in city history: dead people. In 1955, according to Mike Royko’s book “Boss,” when Republican Ald. Robert Merriam made the mistake of running for mayor against Richard J. Daley, he charged the Democrat with vote fraud. The postcards he sent to the voters in Daley-controlled wards frequently came back stamped “deceased.” Daley, of course, won. Maybe you can unearth some of these mysterious voters at Graceland. (Confirmed graves at the elaborately decorated and landscaped cemetery include famous Chicagoans Marshall Field, Cyrus McCormick, Daniel Burnham and National League baseball founder William Hulbert.)
– Miller Beach, Gary, Ind. Go ahead, keep believing that all of Gary smells and that you’ll be murdered the instant you cross the border. That leaves more room at the beaches and Indiana Dunes for the rest of us. Wandering the streets of Gary late at night isn’t recommended, but take a Saturday afternoon and hit Lake Street, the heart of the city’s Miller section. It’s the closest the Chicago area has to Miami or Virginia Beach, with little art galleries, a library, record stores, the friendly Miller Pizza Co. (622 1/2 S. Lake St., Gary, 219-938-7071) and Gary’s best restaurant, the fancy and reasonably priced Miller Bakery Cafe (555 S. Lake, 219-938-2229). Also worth trying is Mambo (444 S. Lake, 219-939-1933), a new Mexican restaurant.
Continue walking down Lake, past the businesses and the apartments, towards Lake Michigan. The beach is sandier than any spot off Lake Shore Drive, and the water is reasonably warm. There’s only one catch: The beach’s bookends are smoke-spewing steel mills. If this sort of thing disgusts you, stick to the lake’s more familiar dead fish and pollution near Lake Shore Drive. But it’s interesting to view the manmade industry, which is at the center of Gary’s history, in the same scene as the dunes and trees. To get to Lake Street, take the Indiana Tollway east, exit on U.S. Highway 12 and follow it east. Turn left at the Lake light, go over the railroad tracks and park near the first restaurant (not McDonald’s) you see.
– Quimby’s Bookstore (1328 N. Damen Ave., 312-342-0910). Popular titles? People are frustrated with their jobs, so “Temp Slave” and “McJob” are big. “Giant Robot,” about Asian pop culture, and “Thriftscor,” about “thrifting,” plus “Murder Can Be Fun,” “Beer Frame” and “Ben Is Dead” are the old standbys. Quimby’s, the Wicker Park fixture that claims the largest collection of ‘zines in the country and possibly the world, will sniff right in your face if you ask for Rolling Stone or SPIN. “The most mainstream magazine I have is, like, Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll,” says owner Steven Svymbersky, referring to the anti-mainstream punk ‘zine. Gem: Eight-Track Mind, all about collecting eight-track tapes.
– West and South Side blues clubs. Somebody call David Lynch, the flashy-gloom-loving director of “Wild at Heart,” and give him directions to the New Zodiac Entertainment Center (1744 N. Central Ave., 312-637-3699). Its dark ambience, with fuschia-colored seats and mirrored posts perfectly complement the club’s soul-blues singers’ shiny green jackets and flashy magenta jumpsuits. North Side and Loop tourists can wear their House of Blues T-shirts and hop from Buddy Guy’s Legends to B.L.U.E.S., but on the West and South Side scenes, blues are more than electric guitarists trying to be Stevie Ray Vaughan. Also: Artis Lounge (1249 E. 87th St., 312-734-0491), a corny lounge that transforms nightly into a loud blues bar; Lee’s Unleaded Blues (7401 S. South Chicago Ave., 312-493-3477), with Lee’s Unleaded Chili to supplement the music; the famous Checker Board Lounge (423 E. 43rd St., 312-624-3240), and the Celebrity Lounge (2020 E. 83rd St., 312-731-2242).
– Dell Rhea’s Chicken Basket Cocktail Lounge (645 Joliet Rd., Willowbrook, 630-325-0780). Six things: chicken, Route 66 artifacts, chicken, blues, chicken and chicken. The Basket serves fried chicken, fresh sauteed chicken livers, herbed chicken breast, garlic chicken, fried chicken gizzards and homemade corn muffins. That’s on one side of a glass wall; on the other, live blues, not exactly Otis Rush or Buddy Guy, but homegrown names like Don Griffin, the Fabulous Fishheads and Duke Tomato and the Power Trio. And though nearby Route 66’s historic name has changed, and you have to maneuver a bit to find the Chicken Basket, it’s full of Route 66 display cases and neon pictures of — what else? — chickens.
– Baby Doll Polka Club (6102 S. Central Ave., 312-582-9706). Polka is making a serious comeback — and it’s not just because of whippersnapper bands like Brave Combo, who play rock ‘n’ roll and make albums with ukulele player Tiny Tim. Brave Combo has never played the Baby Doll. The bar-restaurant’s polka crowd of mostly Polish South Siders regularly park themselves at the Baby Doll’s long bar; women wait for men to ask them to dance. There’s usually a live band, and if you don’t know the steps, expect to look ridiculous. Consider taking some lessons before jumping into the fray — fortunately, though, the regulars give credit for trying.
– Chicago Paintball Factory (1001 W. Van Buren St., 312-613-0301). The only place in town where this pickup line works: “That’s a nice suit, but it would look better splattered with paint.” For $27, you get an air (paint) rifle, a sight scope and protective gloves and a suit. Each team, up to 40 people, suits up, runs around burned-out cars and big aliens in a 35,000-foot maze and tries to capture the other team’s “color cone.” And if you’re not good at using paint for military maneuvers, there’s always art.
– Museums. How many times can you look at that same pensive Van Gogh pose at the Art Institute of Chicago? Much more unusual spectacles await at the Leather Archives and Museum (5017 N. Clark St., 312-878-6360); the Polish Museum of America (984 N. Milwaukee Ave., 312-384-3352); the American Police Center and Museum (1711 S. State St., 312-431-0005); the Bicycle Museum of America (435 E. Illinois Ave., 312-222-0500); and the Bradford Museum of Collector’s Plates (9333 Milwaukee Ave., Niles, 847-966-2770).
– The two sides of Elvis Presley. Voted for the old, fat Elvis stamp? You’ll want Vinyl’s “breakfast with Elvis,” from 10 a.m.-3 p.m. Sundays (1615 N. Clyborn Ave., 587-8469). But if Vinyl’s shiny hipsterism and lounge-music enthusiasm doesn’t strike you as a genuine way to honor the not-forgotten King, you’ll want an old-fashioned diner that serves burned bacon and peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches. Joanne and Sons (1775 W. Sunnyside Ave., 312-334-0101) has good food, salutes Presley in the most respectful possible way and lets you play with Barbie dolls and Lego blocks while waiting for a table. You can also shake your leg and hips seductively.
– Free tours of the Jelly Belly factory (Goelitz Confectionery, 1501 Morrow Ave., 312-689-8950). This is the secret way Jelly Belly get such bizarre flavors: They have a machine that squeezes the raspberries, stomps on the grapes and crushes the buttered popcorn kernels and cinnamon danishes. Then it condenses them into little spotted orbs. No, of course, that’s impossible. But the jelly bean factory has cool contraptions that look like clothes dryers, free samples and rejects called “Belly Flops.”
– Margie’s Candies (1960 N. Western Ave., 312-384-1035). When’s the last time you ever heard anybody say, “Any good ice cream place has got to know how to make a malt”? Or brag about the homemade flavors containing 18 percent butterfat? Margie’s, built in 1920, named after owner Peter Poulis’ mother, has deliciously staved off the yogurt revolution. Poulis, grandson of the founder, uses the word “old-fashioned” at least eight times in a five-minute interview. He isn’t exaggerating: Scoopers serve ice cream on fancy porcelain leaves; they sell cherry cordials, candies and shiny old dolls.
– Illinois Institute of Technology’s baseball diamond (3300 S. Federal St., 312-567-3296). Catching a Chicagoland Collegiate Athletic Conference game isn’t the same as watching American League teams brawl at nearby Comiskey Park. But this small park is closer to the field of dreams than you might imagine — Michael Jordan, upon retiring from basketball and taking up baseball, came here to train with IIT’s veteran coach Jim Darrah. Tom Hanks, Geena Davis and Madonna, practicing for their baseball film “A League of Their Own,” also dropped by for some pointers. Then-Sox Bo Jackson and Ozzie Guillen, who in early 1993 were coming back from injuries, visited Darrah for rehabilitation. This park is more memorable for what isn’t there than for what is, but the college’s ball club, the Scarlet Hawks, is usually a pretty decent and entertaining team, so pull up a bleacher when the club begins its fall season in September.
– Bill Gladstone’s sailing school (Belmont Road and Lake Michigan, 312-871-7245). You could take these basic sailing lessons yourself — weekday lessons are $340 for five sessions, weekends $375 for four sessions — or better yet, find some well-off patsy to take them first, then call the person on those lazy, blue-sky summer Sunday mornings and ask him or her to show off the new skill. Tip, from experience: A new sailor doesn’t like it when you shout “Arrgh!” incessantly and ask where the mizzenmast is. If your friend makes you walk the plank, be sure it’s close to the beach, not way out by the Lake Michigan water-treatment plants.
