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| 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.
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