NEW YORK, NY – It’s Wednesday. It’s June. The world is an absolute mess. It’s been raining for like 1,000 straight days. The upcoming New York Mayoral race is a dumpster fire inside of a larger sewage treatment plant fire. Musical geniuses are abandoning the planet like it’s their job. It’s also my 20th Wedding Anniversary. Plenty to discuss, but I’m gonna talk about to my trip to Chicago this past weekend instead.
That Toddlin’ Town. So, yeah, the family and I spent last weekend looking at colleges in and around the city of Chicago. The idea of sending my kid off to college, incidentally, also has me considering booking myself one-way passage to the nearest nervous hospital. But, I won’t linger on such predictable details. It was nice being in Chicago again. There was this thing there called the sun (not to be confused with the Sun-Times) that was big and yellow and hovering in the Earth’s sky, radiating warmth. Every city should have one. There was also great food (more on that later) and nice scenery and a bunch of fun stuff to do. I’ve always liked Chicago, ever since I was a little kid and my favorite Uncle lived there. Sure, you always hear the same “the winters are awful” gripe, but I find people who complain about winter to be a wee bit weak of spirit. It’s quite all right to prefer warmer weather, but don’t compare cold, wind, and snow to some sort of circle of hell.
Chicago Loves Sports. From the Bears to the Bulls to the Blackhawks and beyond, Chicagoans are big sports fans. They’re nothing like the know-nothing phonies you see in places like Denver and Atlanta and all over the place in Florida. Philly fans aside, it’s hard to hate on fans who actually have some working knowledge of sports and their favorite teams. They have the Midwestern thing too, where they almost seem cordial while wishing your team into oblivion.
Let’s Eat! There’s plenty of culinary delights to be found in the Windy City. This trip there was a nice first-day lunch on Michigan Avenue, Eggs Benedict with homemade country sausage, biscuits, and gravy at an awesome cafe near Northwestern, and a very solid Italian dinner right off the Chicago River. There was also deep dish pizza. Before you start screaming, I do prefer New York pizza, but ya gotta at least try the others. I’ve had deep dish many times before and liked it. This time we went to Pequod’s, which I’d heard about before, most recently on the show The Bear. It was very unpretentious (though clearly a spot tourists hit) and very good. But here’s the thing. On our way there we went by a hot dog place called Fatso’s Last Stand, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. I need to go to this place my next trip back and go “dog wild.”
Wrigley Field. No trip to Chicago is complete without a trip to its baseball cathedral, Wrigley Field. We caught a Cubs/Pirates game on Saturday. Missed seeing Paul Skenes pitch by a day, but that was ok. Wrigley remains the best ballpark in baseball. You can argue all you like; I’m not budging. My daughter loved it and provided me with a Proud Papa moment when she snuck down into box seats behind home plate and caught an inning before an usher spied her and booted her out. If you’re a baseball fan and never been to Wrigley, please go. You will not be disappointed. Before and after the game, the entire area is abuzz with people hoisting liquid comedy and enjoying the overall vibe of the locale Chicago law enforcement had as the home address for one Elwood Blues.
Okay, I’ll bring this travelogue to a merciful end. Come back tomorrow for Buddy Diaz who will be sure to tell you why torpedo bats make excellent kindling for your summer S’mores fire pit.
