postcards from chicago

Come on, baby don't you want to go
Come on, baby don't you want to go
To the same old place
Sweet home, Chicago

I fell in love the first time my husband brought me back to visit this, his hometown. Dining in the Pump Room of the Ambassador East Hotel, they'd made poor Turk don an implausibly over-sized navy blue polyester jacket for the privilege of sitting in storied Booth One, once occupied by the likes of such luminaries as Bette Davis, Humphrey Bogart and Cary Grant. Now it was occupied by the likes of us, a chronically under-dressed Turk and his new wife, the camera-toting Kid.


Dreamy eyed and smitten, I gazed at the comically attired man sitting across from me and asked him to buy me the brownstone across the street. Earlier, we'd been strolling along in this quietly upscale neighborhood, past galleries and cafes, bistros and brownstones and had seen one or two of the latter for sale. This should be our home, I told him; this was the place I was meant to be.

He reminded me that he had left this place for a reason, and that reason was the bitter winter cold. I was married to a man, he told me who, for better or for worse no longer owned a coat, nor wished to. I cheerfully informed him that I was completely open to compromise and did not have a problem with his visiting me during the summer, or even perhaps the warmer spring months if that was to be his preference.

I did not get my brownstone.


But I never stopped loving Chicago. I love everything about it. I love the art and the architecture; the food, the drink and the shopping.





I love the look and the rhythm; the sounds and smell of it. I love that everywhere you glance is something to catch and hold the eye. I like that the prevailing sense of civic pride seems unaccompanied by irony or arrogance. I love that all the waiters laugh and tease. I like that when you smile at people here, they smile back. Sometimes for no reason at all.


In fact, to my mind Chicago has everything a big city needs ~ world class art institutions and museums; a booming economy to support great restaurants and retail, and a solid infrastructure with effective mass transit.

All in an arresting package that indicates an appreciation of both it's history and it's future, as embodied in it's preservation of the old amid the construction of the new. With just a touch of oddly Midwestern whimsy thrown in.

Maybe it's just the wind whipping in off of Lake Michigan that blows away the angst and sweeps the air clean, but it seems to me that Chicago has as much to offer as it's big sister to the east, New York, and without the proverbial chip on it's shoulder. And I say this with all the smug confidence of a native New Yorker, born with a proverbial chip on my shoulder. (And which, as a now devout Californian, I'm seeking to have removed by a prominent cosmetic surgeon).
Well, some things never change.



We stayed at the small but gracious Talbott Hotel, which I found on my latest web/travel obsession, Trip Advisor, and cannot recommend it highly enough. I don't believe we'll be staying anywhere else when we're in town ~ unless of course I get that brownstone, which I have never stopped lobbying for, by the way (I think I'm wearing him down). The hotel staff are friendly and welcoming, the ample accommodations more than comfortable. And of course, they have that cow climbing up the side of the building. You don't get that at the Four Seasons.


See what I mean? Whimsy. Perfect.

sweet home chicago

pearls before swine

MIT called. They want their honorary degree back.

I never said I was the brightest bulb on the tree, and adapting to the new Vista operating system has presented something of a challenge. It isn't it ~ it's me. It looks very attractive and obligingly efficient, and I love the zazzy new 3D graphics and organizational tools. Even my new desktop ~ a soothing eyeful of luscious green bamboo stalks; ooooo, pretty ~ makes me happy.

It's just that I haven't had time to sit down, focus and methodically analyze all the quirks, bells and whistles involved in the new system. Because I wanted to get to work immediately after being offline for so long, I just dove right in without checking first to see if there was any water in the pool. As a result I hit my head, set some things up wrong (for one thing, inputting the wrong PPOE or BYOB or whatever the heck it was that I was asked for during setup) and thus creating all manner of confusion.

And at the moment I have no time to go back and fix my errors. I did go out and buy Windows Vista for Dummies last week but haven't had time to crack it yet ~ turns out what I really needed was Windows Vista for the Busy Idiot. Maybe that's the book I should write. If I have time.

It will all work out in the end, I'm sure. In the meantime, we're off this week to one of my favorite cities and Turk's hometown of Chicago. We're adding a little side tour up through Wisconsin to the Great Lakes area. I have never been to Wisconsin, which seems as good a reason as any to go. I hear there are cows. Possibly a cheese festival. I'd like to stay in one of those converted lighthouse inns I've been seeing online, perched high on a cliff somewhere overlooking Lake Superior. If it's warm enough, maybe we'll do a little sailing; maybe catch us some of that Lake Superior whitefish. Who knows? We'll figure it out. It's a road trip ~ we go where the road takes us.

In the meantime, all we've got so far are nonrefundable plane tickets and a date with some of Turk's old pals downtown. I'll be hanging around the Art Institute, and the evening will almost certainly find us at Harry Caray's. Again. I'll hit the shops along Michigan Avenue; maybe check out Navy Pier too; we haven't been there since it opened. After that, it's anybody's guess. See you when we get back.

Go Sox...