Amalgamation

To make up for my failure to adequately aid your work-week procrastination, I give you three things this Friday afternoon:

Kilts. Four men wearing them, walking down the street (and might I add that at least one was young, and pretty attractive?). True, they were part of some Chicago police band (that's what the drum carried by one of them said -- I'm only assuming that it's this band). But that in no way lessens the fact that the members of said band (who were not marching at the time, mind you, but merely crossing at a crosswalk) were kilt-clad.

Pink scooter. This middle-aged woman was riding down the street (in the Warehouse District, mind you, which we'll get to next) on a Mary Kay-colored scooter. One of the sit-down kinds.

Cornhole. I don't know how I managed to not hear of this game during my first iteration as a Midwesterner, but it's apparently all the rage. And there was a dude standing outside a bar in the aforementioned Warehouse District (there are a lot of those around there), cell phone to his ear, just tossing beanbags into holes. It was all very zen.