Our friend Kate said she would punch both Katie and me in the face if we didn’t visit the homes of Frank Lloyd Wright and Ernest Hemingway.  Let’s schedule that punch on, say, Christmas day?  Let’s see if you have the cold heart to assualt me on Christmas, Kate.  I remember seeing Hemingway’s house in Key West about 10 years ago.  There were hunting trophies mounted everywhere.  I would have liked to see his birthplace near Chicago, but I don’t think Hemingway wrote any stories about Oak Park, Illinois.  That place couldn’t have been terribly inspiring.  As for Frank Lloyd Wright’s home and studio, I’m sure they are amazing but I can’t afford $12 for admission.

Chicago is demanding!  It didn’t give us time to go about as we pleased.  A word of advice for tourists:  Chicago will open up a few possibilities for you.  You must take advantage of those prospects whether they are on your itinerary or not.  Our weekend in the city went by in a flash — intoxicating in its exhilaration, but over much too quickly. This is a cool building in the Lincoln Park area.

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Today was going to be the day to enjoy a slice of pizza Chicago-style.  I was going to make Amanda proud.  But instead we stuffed ourselves with Thai food from The Thai Bowl on N. Lincoln Ave.  After a heaping bowl of Red Curry, I couldn’t imagine that I would be able to savor a foot-long, thick-crusted calorie triangle the way it’s meant to be relished.  I did have a Coke in a glass bottle, though, which is Amanda’s number one preferred method for knocking back a Coke.  Tomorrow = Pizza.

Tomorrow = a lot of things.  Hopefully.  I want to take in the architectural tour of Chicago, maybe peek into Frank Lloyd Wright’s home, take a walk along the coast by Navy Pier, see the mirrored bean in Millennium Park (who could pass that up?), and take Mister to one of the many dog-friendly stores for a Mister-makeover.  What did we do today?  Aside from the Thai food I already told you about we drove around looking at buildings and people, then walked for a few miles and chatted with a few nice folks.  So many people were out on the streets tonight, most of them dressed to party.  Sidewalks vibrated from high-healed women walking past clubs roaring with music. The spirit of the city tonight caught us off guard — we were giggling for hours.

Not all news is good.  You see, about a week ago my Aunt Kathy wrote down my cousin Lisa’s phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to me.  Lisa lives in the Chicago area and we were hoping to stay with her.  I’m the kind of guy who loses everything that’s important to me, so I don’t need to tell you that the paper with Lisa’s address vanished into thin air.  This must have happened about the time that my cell phone battery died, taking with it the stored numbers of all my contacts.  The loss of these things screwed us:  We had to stay in an unnervingly dubious campground 70 miles from the city, then drive through horrendous local traffic for hours each way just to get to the city.  The traffic wasn’t so terrible in Chicago, but the streets by the campground were unexpectedly congested.  On both days of this hellish commute, my nerves were shot by the time we got to the city.  Lisa, I’m sorry I lost your address and phone number.  If you read this tonight contact me, there’s still time!

Tonight we’re camping on the street in front of Alex’s house.  She lives just a few miles from the city, where she works for the Chicago branch of Apartment Therapy.  Before we even met in person Alex agreed to let us park in front of her house, took it upon herself to get a parking pass from the town so we wouldn’t get towed, and offered to make us a vegetarian meal.  Have you ever known a person so kind?  If you have known one, you’re a lucky individual.  I can’t write much more tonight because it’s 2:45 a.m. and I want to wake up before 8 to get into the city early.  There’s plenty more to see.

Goodnight!

Hot sun blazed through the jeep windows as we drove northward yesterday afternoon. Air conditioning is very touchy in that stinky jeep — the vents refuse to blow cool air if the vehicle goes faster than 59 miles per hour. To make things more complicated, I’m so worried about maintaining reasonable gas mileage that I refuse to roll down the windows on highways because of wind resistance. Needless to say, Katie and I were feeling sick, sticky, and sweaty when I pulled off into Kankakee to stretch my legs for a bit. What was meant to be a five minute pit stop problematically escalated into a ninety minute excursion themed “squander your entire day.”

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