The Couple At The Next Table

The scene: Longman & Eagle, a very hip bar and restaurant with a mini hotel upstairs (where I was staying) in Logan Square, Chicago. My son and I were at dinner. A couple sat down next to us who were, let's say, attention getting.

Now, I can talk to just about anyone who is receptive. I made a comment about how cool the man's tattoo was. (Actually, I hate tattoos but that attitude wouldn't open any doors.) He was friendly and open to having me take some pictures of his hand. I offered to send him photos and gave him my card. (That's another pick-up line for photographers. Almost no one gets back to you.) Then there was his date, who must have had modeling experience. She sure knew how to pose.                   

Night On The L

Most but not all of Chicago's train system is above ground on steel structures running above the streets. Some of it is underground but people generally call the whole thing the L, for elevated.

People can get worn out by big city life and may drift off on their journey homeward. Some may stay alert, hunched up against a chilly evening like son Andy.

I apologize for leaving no comments for so long. Work is leaving me very little spare time. There is a particular reason that doesn't bear repeating. It will continue for a while longer, then ease off. Haven't forgotten you and your work.           

A Reminder

Logan Square, Chicago. Read it as you wish. 

Audrey Monday

I used to have a lot of Madeleine Mondays but it is now impossible to take her picture if she is aware of it. She will pull the camera away and demand to see herself on the LED screen. Which, of course, doesn't work because I cannot get any pictures taken. Kid, it's a lose-lose situation.

But I did get to spend some time with my younger granddaughter, Audrey Crowe, in Grand Rapids on Saturday. We didn't get to see her much in Chicago and it will be harder still when the family moves to small-town Michigan. She's seven months old and pretty cute, even on a bad hair day, while she pulls the world into focus.       

April Is The Cruelest Month

 

So said a very highbrow poet who started out in St. Louis but left as soon as he could.

I was in Grand Rapids, Michigan, yesterday. Why, you might ask? Well, as mentioned Friday, my son Andy and his family are moving in stages to Clare, Michigan, where his wife grew up. Claire and baby Audrey are already there (more about them soon), living with her parents. Andy has to finish the school year teaching in Chicago. So we drove three hours to Grand Rapids, which I knew nothing about, a surprisingly large and pleasant (and cold) town. Claire and Audrey had an hour and three-quarters drive. We spent last night in a house on Lake Michigan owned by the family of a friend of my son, about half way and empty this weekend.

Grand Rapids has this amazing place, the Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park, which I would recommend to anyone. Problem is, they are still getting some snow up here (Andy's car was covered with it in Chicago yesterday morning), resulting in scenes like this. Elliott was a sourpuss but maybe he was right.                    

A Chicago Bar

The number of bars in America is dwindling. Places that serve alcohol and a minimum of food, someplace to meet your friends and unwind, or to hang out alone but not, nursing your depression. There were lots in NYC when I was growing up but not so much now. However, the institution lives on in Chicago.

This is Swig, someplace in the Wicker Park neighborhood my son took me to before dinner. There was a TV with closed captions, best thing to look at in the establishment.                           

Last Flight To Chicago

Well, not exactly the last flight. We will be changing planes at O'Hare as long as we fly American, which is what we mostly do. But this is the last trip to Chicago for the foreseeable future.

My older child went to college here in 1994. The second one followed four years later. (There was a time when I wanted a bumper sticker saying "My Money And My Children Go To the University of Chicago.")  She came back to St. Louis. He stayed, got a graduate degree, a couple of different jobs, a wife and a baby. We would come up to see them whenever we could and I used to have occasional business here (not so much now). I've probably been here 50 times in the last 21 years.

My son and his family are about to move to central Michigan, the small town where his wife grew up. They want to decompress and raise their daughter somewhere less intense. I'll see them this weekend and then there won't be more reasons to come. I've learned the city pretty well and come to enjoy its vigor. I'll miss it. This makes me feel a little sad.