Fancy box seats at the Hilbert Circle Theatre can cost up to $75, and they usually sell out. But during Happy Hour at the Symphony shows (next one: January 19), all seats are general admission, and you can sit there for just $25—if you arrive when the doors open and beeline for a box. 45 Monument Circle, 639-4300
Beyond lining up the logistics, Kate Berglund of KB Design has made a name for herself by branding social and corporate events with an identity- (even a logo) that carries through from invitations to goodie bags. For one client’s birthday, a girls’ getaway, guests received a beach bag and flip-flops printed with the party’s emblem. Berglund has been tapped for several Super Bowl events, including the Owners’ Party. 523-6362, kbdesignllc.com
Love a canary-yellow lacquered side table? Then you’ll love Matt Heincker, an up-and-coming interior designer who blogs several times a week on trends like urban craft decor and the modern-classic mix, always with photographic aids. The 29-year-old also has been known to play the role of local shopping scout, alerting readers when he runs across something in a store here that’s a budget version of a high-end trend, a principle and frequent blog topic that he calls “Copy Cat Chic.” heinckerdesign.wordpress.com
Same name, same brands, yet somehow an exciting, fresh vibe—just one more reason to love Uber, an independent decor-and-clothing shop that opened a Carmel location this fall. The polished, gallery-like arrangement of Danish furniture, Jonathan Adler objects, and cool-again leather fanny packs is pioneering the emerging shopping scene at City Center and setting the bar stylishly high. 31 W. City Center Dr., Carmel, 564-5638
Book a treatment at the Evan Todd Spa & Salon at the Conrad, and you’re in for a VIP experience, starting with free valet parking. Even those who book just a chair massage at $2 per minute are welcome to stay and pamper themselves for hours. The posh sixth-floor retreat has an indoor pool and a Jacuzzi—bring a book and camp out on a thickly cushioned chaise—and a sun-drenched fitness room where the machines are always prepped with a bottle of water rolled up in a towel. 50 W. Washington St., 524-2575
Mixing a fine pre-Prohibition cocktail takes work, sending the vested bartenders at The Libertine into a dance of controlled fury. Belly up and behold the routine: demolishing ice, scaling the wall of cubbies to reach a bottle of Fernet-Branca, whipping liqueur from jigger to glass, carving a wispy orange rind—all while keeping their ties clean. Finally, something to make us look up from our iPhones. 38 E. Washington St., 631-3333
Back in 1981, I wrote a cover story for this magazine entitled “Indy’s Inferiority Complex.” I believe the editor stole the idea from another Midwestern city, and by that I mean Columbus, Ohio, a place that allegedly suffered from the malady. My task was to conjure up reasons why we here in the Circle City thought we sucked.
When I taught first grade—before the Earth cooled, in 1969—I instructed 90 6-year-olds to read and write, add and subtract. Along the way, they also learned to cut with scissors and refrain from bonking each other on the head with their science books. In return, I learned to buckle boots, make tissue-paper flowers, and achieve some sort of primordial order on the playground.
