Memorial Day II: Brian's ceremony

Somewhere between Richard's and Edward's ceremonies, spirits began to falter. Blisters blistered; children and adults alike approached meltdown. We needed a boost.

That boost came in the form of a free trolley ride! to the Lincoln Park Zoo, where we would be performing the final ceremony. Free! To the Zoo! Instead of having to wait for (and pay for) the Fullerton bus, we got to ride in open-air high style.

Free trolley ride with accidental product placement

Edward noted that there was a sign in our trolley advertising the fact that it could be rented. Which is true. En route to the zoo we wondered whether or not we could rent one and simply drive around picking up random tourists, offering them own particular and personalized take on Chicago's sights. (Watch this space, I suppose.)

The zoo was fifteen minutes away from closing when we arrived; we couldn't have timed it more perfectly. (Well, for the adults, anyway -- Lily wasn't altogether pleased by the drive-by zooing). After a quick scouting of locations, we decided on a slightly out-of-the-way electrical box mounted behind the benches at the sea lion exhibit.

Brian Lobel was also unable to attend, so I read his story (against a great backdrop):

2007. I had broken up with my best friend about eight months prior. I don't know what else to call it when your best friend's abusive lesbian partner forbids your best friend from talking to you. We were broken up, but I didn't fully get it, and had continued to call her for the last eight months without a phone call returned, an e-mail answered, a random party bump-into to be followed up on. I was sad.

I had welcomed my parents two days earlier to Chicago and for some reason, they were still only in the middle of their trip. They should have been gone after the honeymoon period (the approximately 48 hours in which my parents and I really get along), yet I still needed to fill two days of their trip with fun times. We had seen a play, seen a dance performance, eaten three good meals at great Chicago restaurants I'm too cheap for, and I was running low on ideas. The Lincoln Park Zoo…

I hadn't been since a drunken ZooLights in December 2005, but I knew it'd be perfect. We love animals. The Lobels love animals. Not in nature, but in controlled areas, where they can be appreciated. We begin to walk through the front gates, giddy with having found yet one more activity in Chicago, when my thigh buzzes with an unrecognized 734 number. I had erased my best friend from the phone, to stop me from calling, but I knew it was her. She was crying. One minute later I was crying, and five minutes later, I realized that my parents were waiting for me, impatiently, to go into the African Experience. Waiting. Waiting. So I shoo-ed them forth, physically walking 30 feet behind but always appearing to read plaques and scientific names. I thought it could look like I just needed more time to appreciate.

Puffy eyes and tearing and snotting--it was pathetic and gay and fantastic (only from a critical angle which I didn't have at the moment). But the conversation had to happen then and I'm glad we didn't wait. For 45 minutes I held up the charade until I saw my parents, arms folded, standing outside of the epileptic zebra area. The ignoring-of-the-cell-phone-in-public game had to come to an end, so I saved my friend's number, gave my face a minute to cool down, and then headed to the Sea Lions where the Lobels were waiting so that, as a family, we could appreciate the animals.

Installing Brian's plaque

"The conversation had to happen, c. 2007"

And with that, we were done. I took one final picture of the stalwart remaining participants and we dispersed. Fifteen minutes later, it began to rain. Hard.

Serendipity.

David, Edward, Noey, Lily, Diana, and Dina: Loyal to the end

Postscript: Due to weather and exhaustion, there is one remaining plaque, John's, which has yet to be installed. Check back to the site for a date and time!