Things to do in Chicago (if you're Sting)

It can't be easy to travel with musical instruments from the Middle Ages. Have you tried fitting a hurdy gurdy into the overhead compartment of a commercial airliner? If you're Sting, you don't fly commercial. You have your lutes, synclaviers and mandolins in your entourage. While Music of the Baroque is between seasons, you can still get a heavy classical fix at the annual GPMF. It kicks off Jun 11 with the Tchaikovsky Extravaganza. The Water Music and Barber and Haydn bill should get you stiff in the knickers, too.

We hear you used to eat the meat of animals you raised, but now adhere to a macrobiotic diet. Though our city is riddled with pork products, no sweat. There are plenty of solid vegetarian and vegan joints to hit. Green Zebra seems right up your alley.

Speaking of "up your alley," the Ruby Room spa will pamper you to your yoga-centric needs. Facials, massage, aroma, intestinal power blasting—it's got you covered.

The world knows you primarily for two things: 1) The Police. 2) Tantric sex. Head over to the city's leading center for the tantric arts and show them how it's done. Be sure they have eight hours free.

This summer marks the 30th anniversary of the misunderstood and underrated Dune film you made with David Lynch. It's not quite Movies in the Park fodder, so there isn't a screening slated in town (yet). But you can get your Harkonnen blood pumping when Toto hits Ravinia. The band scored Dune (with a little help from Brian Eno), and don't have much else to play after "Rosanna." Try not to weep when they tear into "Paul Kills Feyd."

Birds of prey lurk amid the skyscrapers, but there's not a ton of falconry downtown. However, just a bit south of the city near Joliet, in New Lenox, you can feel the majestic weight of a predator on your well-toned forearm. Yes, we know you were not in Ladyhawke; that was Rutger Hauer. Should have been you, though.

In 2000, you and a team of four others faced off against Gary Kasparov in your favorite pastime, chess. Bad news: He pasted y'all. Good news: The level of competition in the Crotch (that's what we call Wicker Park) is well below "greatest player of all time."

Nobody calls you Gordon. The name Sting came from your youth, when you were sitting in with jazz bands, wearing a yellow and black–striped sweater. Dust off that bumblebee jumper and double bass and fly free with one of the improvisational cats at a club like Hungry Brain or Andy's.

Man, who do these guys think they are? Who do they think you are? Covering "Power of Love" is one thing, but "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic?" Ghosts in the Machine is miles ahead of Huey freaking Lewis. Do they even know who Arthur Koestler is? Show them who's boss and treat them like Stuart Copeland when these '80s suck-ups hit Andersonville Midsommarfest (Jun 6–8), Belmont Sheffield Music Festival (Jun 7, 8), Pride Fest (Jun 22)… and just about every other street fest.