What the hell is going on with goat culture in Chicago? To be sure, a population of nearly 10 million people in the Chicagoland area (most of them women) and two baseball teams creates a sizable demand for goats and goat products, particularly unusual cheeses. But there is something odd about the number of goat related events I find in that city, some of which I captured in my travelogue "Of Green Goats and Blackberry Bankers", which I'm told is a smashing good read (okay no, nobody really told me that). Bars and baseball teams live and die on the whims of stray goats, people are serving goat at parties, and trying to kick a hangover at a Chicago movie theater, I swear I saw a goat playing some sort of woodwind instrument, but that may have been the green dye and sambuca talking.
I thought maybe it was just one wild, braying weekend, but then I poke around Nobo's blog and it turns out she's listening to the Mountain Goats and making her own goat cheese. Not that I can object to either, because of all the fine times I had eating the feta cheese laden greek pizza at Luce... although I think the first time I heard of the Mountain Goats, somebody was telling me "International Small Arms Traffic Blues" was very reminiscent of dating me, and I don't think that was supposed to be nice.
My goat related love and libation experiences aside, why is Chicago the epicenter of all these capric goings-on? Is this some sort of back-up plan if Chicago doesn't get the 2016 Olympics, to become the goat capital of North America and use all those green spaces and unneeded Olympic venues over to bedouin goatherders? I don't now, but I assure you, I intend to find out.
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