I just got back from a short trip to Chicago. Joel is still there for a Neocon convention and the memories of the trip are distanced enough for me to write about it with some sense. To begin with, I normally like to drive in a big city. Having said that, I unapologetically swear to never think that again about Chicago.
We got there early Friday so we had plenty of time to do stuff before checking into the hotel. We managed to see some of the more touristy places in the city’s downtown area. We found the Z Gallerie again, Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel, and Borders. We had lunch at Hacienda, which was pricey but very good. Then we went downtown with some directions from our waitress. The planetarium and aquarium were packed beyond belief, so if we had enjoyed crowds we would have been in the right place. Alas, we do not. To make us pay a small fortune for parking to enjoy such a spectacle was only further insult.
We finally got to the hotel and were horrified to have another adventure develop before our very eyes. The place was run down, had horrible Saxophones bellowing from the basement, and carloads of Mexicans in nice clothes coming in while talking on cell phones.
We then ventured on to Michigan Ave, couldn’t get into The Cheesecake Factory, so we had $10 margheritas on the 96th floor of the John Hancock building with Chris East, a friend of Joels’ from the office. Did I mention that it was the Signature Lounge and we were wearing sneakers and shorts? There was a beautiful view out the windows from that altitude, if you were a meterologist. We were kinda hoping for lights. The clouds enveloping the building kept us from being distracted by the skyline so we could concentrate on our conversation with two schoolmates of Chris. We gingerly sipped our drinks through smalltalk and token interest about my job until Joel managed to plan an escape route. We were out of there and sitting in a Chinese restaurant near the garage with relief painted on our faces. This was the highlight of the first day.
From there to Halstead we dropped $40 just to park the car twice. The night on Halstead was not that memorable, but there were a few points of light here and there. We got back to the hotel after breakfast at Nookies, which had the good sense to create Dixie Benedict- poached eggs on a biscuit half, with ham and a flood of gravy. That was worth waiting for.
After a few hours of naptime, we left again for the Botanical Gardens and had the best time wandering around. As fate would have it, there was a Japan Festival underway. We took pictures of Bonsai and Ikebana and had good Japanese street food. We also saw quite a few striking gardens and Joel got up close and personal with his two favorite things- chocolate and coffee.
We then wised up and parked the car once at Halstead and took the L into downtown. After walking too far, we discovered the Museum was closed for a private event. Two and a half hours to get there, and it was closed, crawling with police. We threw our hands up, browsed through Borders, and stopped at a great BBQ place near the L stop. So far, that was the first good suprise. While we munched corn on the cob and ribs, the police were busy escorting vans, limos, buses and cars down Chicago street. There were Secret Service agents everywhere. Somehow the commotion added to the charm and irony. We were gnawing ribs on the front porch as the rich, powerful, or just plain political were being chauffered about.
A quick trip back through the Addison station, a stop by the car, and we were on to Halstead again. The stars were out that night.
We got some good sleep in our corner suite and found the IndoPak community access channel. Naturally, we were now craving Indian for lunch. Despite bad directions from the INDIAN hotel clerk, we managed to fight traffic to Devon and Western. We had a good meal and did a little walking, but we were paranoid about getting to the airport on time. Good thing we were. We just made it just in time to meet Courtney and get me off to my gate a little early.
The trip back for me was spent face down in a book about the Gospel of Thomas, who was clearly a Buddhist. That is a different blog entry, though. Somehow I managed to lose my Diamond Sutra book I got at Borders for the flight back. I picked up Beyond Belief in the airport bookstore and read half of it. We were delayed because the plane was caught in bad weather before arriving in Chicago. It was smooth flying all the way home and I caught a few minutes of sleep right after takeoff.
Needless to say I slept solid that night, and the alarm drove me out of a very deep sleep. Now that I have had a day to interfuse the truth with some opinion, I can see that the best part of the trip was suffering it all with Joel.