So It Goes at the Vonnegut Library

The Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library in Indianapolis is small but mighty. Offbeat tidbits from his life stock the displays, such as his Pall Mall cigarettes, Purple Heart medal, and the box where he kept his rejection letters. Each month the library frames a different letter and hangs it on the wall, ie:

"I was glad to read your story To Dust Return. I am sorry that I cannot write to you about it with enthusiasm.... I'm afraid you have tried to substitute novelty for real dramatic narrative. This sometimes works but very seldom. I'm afraid that I must, therefore, tell you that you should look elsewhere for an agent.... Yours, Larabie Cunningham, McIntosh & Otis Inc., NY, NY"

The library also replicates Vonnegut's office, complete with checkerboard carpet, red rooster lamp and blue Coronamatic typewriter. Visitors can sit at the desk and type Kurt a note, which the library then publishes via Twitter from the name @kurtstypewriter.

A few months ago, the library formed a Banned Book Response Team to give away free copies of Slaughterhouse-Five to students in Republic, MO, where the book is restricted. Yes, Billy Pilgrim and friends continue to cause controversy by swearing and having sex, even 42 years after publication.

Click here for a random, rock-n-roll Billy Pilgrim sidebar.

A Pie-Five for Route 66's Birthday

What better way to honor of Route 66's birthday tomorrow - officials christened the Mother Road on November 11, 1926 - than a pie-filled road trip? You can practically follow the trail of crumbs from one diner to the next.

Launch from Lou Mitchell's in downtown Chicago. Yes, it's renowned as a breakfast place, but since more than 35% of Americans admit they've forked into pie for breakfast, according to the American Pie Council, there's no need to be shy about ordering the fruity, a la mode slice-of-the-day (weekends only) to chase your double-yoked eggs and complimentary donut holes.

Motor on to Dell Rhea's Chicken Basket in Willowbrook. As comfort food connoisseurs, the Rhea family knows deep-fried bird and mac-and-cheese can only be capped by warm, buttery, blueberry pie. At least that's what filled plates recently; the selection rotates.

Next up: the Old Log Cabin in Pontiac. Coffee, conversation and Crisco-based crust are its recipe for success, along with loads of classics to choose from. Banana cream? Butterscotch? Cherry? Rhubarb? All here and accounted for (until lunchtime).

When you hear a collective "mmm" rising from the cornfields, you've reached Atlanta and the time-warped Palms Grill Cafe. Thick slabs of gooseberry, peach, sour cream raisin and other retro pies tempt from a glass case. Bonus: Tall Paul, a giant statue of Paul Bunyan clutching a hot dog, watches from across the street.

Then it's on to the Ariston Cafe in Litchfield, one of Route 66's oldest restaurants. Post meatloaf dinner, the waitress hauls out a big ol' dessert tray stacked with Reese's, Snickers, apple and other pies. Consider it fuel for the long drive onward, because friend, you're still in Illinois. You've got 7 states and 2000 miles to go to reach the end of the road.

Bhut-y Call

I've written before about Jake Melnick's Corner Tap, where the spicy buffalo wings are sauced with the bhut jolokia, the hottest pepper on earth. For reference, it's about 200 times hotter than a jalapeno.

On Sunday, November 6, Melnick's hosts the "Battle of the Bhut" wing-eating contest - an official event on the International Federation of Competitive Eating circuit. Last year's winner, Erik "The Red" Denmark, chowed 35 nuclear wings. They're typically served alongside a bell - you ring it for a shot of cooling milk, in case the pepper incapacitates your vocal chords.

Oddly, while chilies inflame the mouth, they're thought to have the opposite effect on the reverse end of the body. This goes back to French Army officer L Stevenel, who wrote in the 1956 Bulletin of the Society of Exotic Pathology that West African locals' lack of hemorrhoids was does to their red-chili-rich diet.

For more on dishes hot enough to repel elephants, check out the World's 10 Fieriest Foods.

Museums for National Sandwich Day

Sure, you can celebrate November 3 with a couple slices of meat-filled bread. You can even add a piece of cake to honor John Montagu's 293rd birthday (Montagu is the 4th Earl of Sandwich, the 18th century Englishman who invented the dish as a way to eat with one hand while playing cards with the other.) But if you're serious about sandwiches, visit these Midwestern museums to pay proper homage to the holiday:

National Mustard Museum, Middleton, Wisconsin - Born of one man's ridiculously intense passion, the building houses 5300 mustards, kooky condiment memorabilia and a mustard bar to sample the spreads. CMO (chief mustard officer) Barry Levenson is usually on hand to introduce you to Mustardpiece Theatre, Shakespearean mustard references and the rest of his condiment shtick.

Spam Museum, Austin, Minnesota - Learn how the peculiar, blue-tinned meat has fed armies, become a Hawaiian food staple and inspired legions of haiku writers. What's more, you can chat up the staff (aka 'spambassadors'), indulge in free samples, and try your hand at canning the sweet pork magic.

Leather Museum: Home of the Red Spanking Bench

Add the Leather Archives & Museum to the list of great overlooked institutions in Chicago. Its scholarly displays about leather, fetish and S&M subcultures fill an old synagogue in Rogers Park. Top exhibits:

•    The Red Spanking Bench - An artifact from BDSM club Galleria Domain, designed to be "all things to all bottoms."

•    Short films offering information such as, "Crisco as a lubricant is fabulous. You could put anything up his butt."

•    Last Supper in a Leather Bar with Judas Giving Christ the Finger - A painting by Steven Brown.

•    Kinky historical nuggets, like naughty advice from Ben Franklin (available via the online exhibits).

Bring your mobile device, as many of the displays have barcodes to scan for further information. The website also provides a coupon for half off the $10 admission fee.

Marilyn's Skirt Blowin' in the Windy City

On this date in 1954, Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio divorced. They were married less than a year, and her skirt-blowing pose in The Seven Year Itch supposedly fueled their last fight.

"What would Joe DiMaggio think now?" a grey-haired woman clucks to her two friends before snapping their photo beneath the 26-foot-tall statue of Marilyn on Michigan Avenue in downtown Chicago. 

"This is sexist, man. I don't like the way they're objectifying her," says the guy in the Greenpeace T-shirt, laying on his back and aiming his camera up Monroe's skirt.

"Underpants!" A five-year-old boy sums up the issue in a single squeal. He jumps up and down, pointing to the sculpture's lace-trimmed panties.

A local company unveiled Forever Marilyn, which shows the icon in her skirt-billowing-over-a-subway-grate stance, in July. Citizens have been at odds ever since. Detractors say it incites tacky, leering behavior. Supporters say it's fun and rallies the public.

The day I visit, Girl Scouts stand next to gay men admiring the sculpture's slingback high heels. A busload of Chinese tourists swarms Marilyn beside a young wedding party posing in their finery. Of course, a man in plaid shorts is licking Marilyn's leg while his friends ready their iPhones.

Sadly, the blonde bombshell lacks a key attribute of Chicago's other famed public artworks: Anish Kapoor's Cloud Gate and Picasso's untitled piece both generated controversy when they debuted in 2004 and 1967 respectively, but had years to win over their critics. Marilyn dismantles next spring.

A Cubs October: Goat, Curse, Theo, Reverse

October is ever the momentous month for the Cubs. Take October 6, 1945, when The Curse fell upon the team. As the story goes: Billy Sianis, owner of the Billy Goat Tavern, brought his pet goat to the Cubs-versus-Tigers World Series game. When he tried to enter Wrigley Field with his four-legged friend, ballpark staff refused, saying the goat stunk. Sianis threw up his arms, and called down a mighty hex: "The Cubs will never win a World Series!" They didn't then, and haven't since.

Flash forward to October 25, 2011, when Theo Epstein takes over as Cubs' General Manager.  Theo broke The Curse of the Bambino in Boston and brought the Red Sox a World Series championship after 86 futile years. Can he do the same here, after 103 sad, woeful losing years?