|St the airport ready to go|
My children and I flew to Chicago today. Being older has ots advamtage, and I have decided never to fly again unless certain conditions are met like they wwere today: we had a driver to the airport (Jordan couldn’t cope with me, luggage and wheelchair); we met Jamie in the admirals Club; we had first-class seats. A minor disappointment: the first class lunch menu didn’t appeal so Jordan got me a club sandwich to go from the Admirals Club. When I opened ir on rhe plane, the bacon was raw.
O’Hare Airport makes DFW look wonderful, and we had a bit of a wait and confusion getting the rental car and meeting up with Megan and Colin. But we finally arrived at the Drake Hotel—another of my childhood dreams. The Drake was always a symbol of luxury to me, and it remains a gracious old hotel—the best kind. Our rooms may be a bit in need of updating, but it’’s a suite—two bedrooms and a living aarea, on the 10th floor, with a panoramic view of Lake Michigan and the North Shore. As I write I’m sitting looking out at the lights of night traffic and the lights on the beach. It’s breathtaking, and nostalgic for me.
Tonight we wwent to dinner in what was the meat packing district. A trendy restaurant called Publican. Had avocado salad, trout, farm chicken, chicken liver pate, a wonderful corn dish, suckling pig, and pork rinds. Everybody tasted some of everything, except Colin and I were the only ones who ate pate.
Although we have a rental car, we used an Uber driver to and from the restaurant. Turned out to be a man named Leo, who gave us a wonderful tour—Buckingham Fountain, the Magnificent Miles, the water tower that survived the Great Chlicago Fire.
We have a two-sided approach tothis trip.The kids told Leo they were bringing their mom back to her hometown because she hasn’t been here in years (I have neither family nor friends left here). I think of it as a chance to show them where I grew up. Tomorrow we will tour Hyde Park, my South Side neighborhood and I will show them my house, the homes of friends, even the home of President Obama. And the University of Chicago, the hospital where my dad worked, who knows what else.