Travelin' Thornberries Blow Through The Windy City

March 21 to Monday, March 24, 2003

Jennifer and I hadn’t traveled anywhere since the previous June, when we went to Virginia Beach. Clockwork creatures that we are, even we can have too much routine in our lives, which we like to break up by traveling. A short, weekend trip often can serve that function as well as a longer trip. We already knew that we really enjoyed science museums from our time in Washington D.C, so Chicago emerged as a logical choice. Their Field Museum has a great reputation, and it sits next to other attractions. It was a tolerable car trip away, could be seen in a single day and wouldn’t require us to take too much time off from work. Our funds were still stretched pretty tightly, so expense also was a factor.

Basically, the evening of Thursday, March 20 was a busy night. One of the physicians with whom I work had invited me to a presentation from a drug company on migraine headaches. While this was not the ideal circumstance for me to be at a free dinner with professional colleagues, I really didn't want to say “no” either. I had discovered that I had something of a reputation at work for being stand-offish and non-participative. So I really felt obligated to attend, even though that left Jennifer to handle most of the last-minute grocery shopping and travel plans (like she didn't handle most of that anyway). I also was off from the college business class I was taking because of Spring Break and really didn’t have other grounds to refuse.

Friday, March 21, 2003: The Cost For a Good Story

After I got home from the presentation, Jennifer and I spent a big chunk of the remaining evening packing and stowing our things in the car. Then we had a last-minute beer, relaxed for a few minutes in front of our new CD sound system, and went to bed. By that time, it was so late that we knew we weren't going to get more than a couple of hours of sleep, but we figured that with two of us driving, one could sleep through the other's driving shift.

The Nerve Wracking, Gritty, Red-Eye Car Trip of Sudden Death

Unfortunately, neither of us really slept all that well. This was probably tension from the upcoming trip, or just the fact that beer often can cause insomnia after a time. We barely got more than an hour or so of restless sleep before heading out. The trip went well, though we both started nodding off at one point. During her shift, Jennifer stopped off at a rest area, and we both grabbed a quick 1.5 hours of sleep to help us finish out the journey. We did have one close call when Jennifer missed an Interstate exit and ended up routing us right through downtown Indianapolis … during morning rush hour. Lanes, five abreast. People, angry and rushed. Cars, honking and racing. Jennifer and Thomas, petrified and nauseous. I can still see the image in my head of a car nearly broadsiding us, when it and Jennifer tried to move into the same lane at the same time. After the experience of Indianapolis’ dangerous roads and loopy traffic, both of us were left in serious doubt about whether or not we ever wanted to visit that city again. Probably not.

Arrival at the Mo-Hell

We arrived in Hazel Crest (the home of our hotel), mercifully in one piece, on Friday afternoon.

The motel was something of a heaving disappointment. First of all, they refused to take Jennifer's AAA discount, because they said they were already too cheap for that. Cheap is right. Granted, we only paid $45/night, but the area of town was a real slum, the organization of the front desk was lackluster and the room itself was only slightly better than a hovel. Nonetheless, we were tired, and after unpacking the car, we fell asleep yet again for two to three hours. We actually didn't do much at all the entire day Friday, aside from getting a meal at Applebee’s and reading our respective books. At my request, Jennifer had picked me up another good book by Harold Kushner, called Living a Life that Matters, which she could get cheaper on her employee discount at Joseph-Beth. Oh, and we also safeguarded our property. This was the only motel we’d ever visited where I literally didn’t feel secure; it seemed like everyone was eyeballing our things and waiting for a chance to snatch them.

Saturday, March 22, 2003: The Beginning of the Grand Adventure

We rose the next day and prepared for our first trip into The City [insert resonate echo].

Is The “L” the Right Mode?

We found the Metra station in the middle of ass-crack nowhere, and it was completely deserted. I still have prickle scars where a tumbleweed rolled across my shins. My car was the only one in that arid parking lot, a state of vulnerability that haunted me throughout our time in the City.

There was a schedule of train runs on the wall of the deserted shell, but no desk from which to buy tickets and no attendant at all. After much debate and frustration, Jennifer picked up the auto-dial phone sitting there and listed to the disembodied Voice of Boredom explain what we needed to do. After a 40-minute wait in the middle of a concrete island with a bench, watching a train that said, “Beer is Food,” we caught the Metra into the city. The entire trip was through an old neighborhood of rotted buildings. Truthfully, we started to despair that this city was anything but one big Hooverville.

Hobo Bob and the Little Woman

We didn't wait out the entire trip for the Metra alone. At about the halfway point, this grubby guy and his wife came into the station with us. The man was very hobo-like in his appearance, like Otis on the Andy Griffith Show; we wondered if he’d be going to lock himself up in Andy’s jail cell after his time in Chicago. Anyway, he felt obligated to keep speaking to us and asking questions. When the train arrived, the two of them got onto the same car as we did, and when we got to our destination, they went the same direction right in front of us. Thereafter, we seemed to keep running into him, and every time, he kept waving at us, like we were old friends. We basically started ignoring him, figuring he may be a nice guy, but all we shared with him was a train ride.

Slate Gray in the Windy City

At long last, we did arrive in downtown Chicago, where we beheld our first view of the mighty metropolis. Skyscrapers scraped the sky, sitting in close, snug-like hugs for blocks and blocks. The Sears Tower reached for the stars, the tallest, most majestic structure we had ever seen. Basically, it was a gray, somewhat cold day, so a big part of the scenery was shrouded in fog, while Lake Michigan, which spanned out into the horizon as far as the eye could see, was something of a lusterless field of slate.


Incidentally, our first stop in the city was Starbuck's, for a delicious caramel machiatto. I do love slightly sweetened espresso coffee and see myself a fan of that particular drink for some time to come.

The Planetarium — Another Geeky Paradise

We walked out to our first destination, the Planetarium. I hadn't been to one of these wondrous facilities since 1983, and I thought this one was on par with that one.

100,000 Ways to Advertise an Astrolabe

The Planetarium was a museum of old instruments for observing the heavens. While they had many interesting exhibits, like the telescopes of French kings in the 1500s, it seemed like the greatest slice of the museum was dedicated to showing the biggest buttload of astrolabes from all over the world. Granted, they were kind of fascinating in how they work, allowing one to track the location of stars, including what sign of the zodiac in which they appear. But after 10 to 12 shelves full of them, they sort of started to run together and seem like they were all alike. After we had our fill, we took our leave and explored the area around Lake Michigan.

The Great Fountain of Burned out Candles

Jennifer wanted to visit the Buckingham Memorial Fountain, which we finally found. Alas, this time of the year, the fountain was shut down, no beautiful streams of water arching 20 to 30 feet into the air. Somewhat disappointing, but the architecture was good, so we grabbed a few camera shots anyway. Perhaps we’ll one day get to see the fountain in all its glory.

Jennifer stands in front of Buckingham Fountain, depressingly inactive this time of year.

Sears Tower: Working Our Way Up to Get to the Bottom

Entering the labyrinth of streets, we weaved and wefted our way to the base of the Sears Tower, the tallest building in North America. Ultimately, we decided that it wasn't worth paying out money to travel to the top and look out across the city. After all, we could have ridden to the top of any other building in the city for free, so why should be pay for this one? Someone somewhere just figured there was a dollar to be made by charging people for something the building offers anyway … elevators. No, we figured that just standing at the bottom on the first floor was worth it for the experience. Now we can say we've been there.

Chicago Style Pizza!

One of the vague goals we had set before our arrival was that we wanted to get ourselves a genuine Chicago style pizza. Jennifer had the name Giordano's, a prominent pizzeria in the city, which we did manage to find. 

Everything on the menu was very expensive, so we decided on a small pizza and a pitcher of beer. Gadzooks! Even the small pizza was huge! Ultimately, despite it being the smallest they had, we were still filled to the tip of our tonsils by the time we left, with enough left over for a later snack! Taking our spoils, we lumbered our way back to the Metra, rode back to the room and crashed. Our feet thanked us.

Sunday, March 23, 2003: Let’s Try the Adventure Again

The next day, we had a much easier time catching the Metra, having finally figured the whole damn system out. The difference was that on Sundays, the Metra only runs every two hours, which made our scheduling more critical.

But what a contrast this day! Unlike the day before, the city was decked out with brilliant sunlight and warmth. Lake Michigan was scintillating, the day, beautiful. It seemed ripe with limitless hope.

“Why Did You Throw that at Me?”

Another quick visit to Starbuck's down the street, and then we headed in the direction of our next stop, the Field Museum.

Facade of the Field Museum

I suggested we stop off at one of the concrete walls prior to entering the museum, sip our coffee and just enjoy the improvement in the weather from the day before.

That’s when we got accosted.

Yes, sunning ourselves, bathing our epiglotti in delicious standardized coffee, soaking up the energy of the Windy City, Jennifer and I were jarred by the approach of a disheveled man in a toboggan who said something like, “Well, well, just a happy couple out here enjoying the day!” Immediately bothered, we knew this wasn’t going to end pretty. The guy proceeded to hold out a courtesy flyer, which I took by reflex and then hated myself for doing. Although he called it a free publication from some kind of social program, he followed it up with a request for a donation. I admit, I froze while considering how to disentangle us from the guy in a diplomatic manner and not have to part with any cash to do it.

Jennifer, by contrast, solved the situation more expediently. She grabbed the paper from me and pitched it back to the peddler, letting him know in no uncertain terms that we weren’t interested. She had recently had a similar run-in with a very unpleasant door-to-door peddler back at our apartment on Kirklevington Drive, and she wasn’t in the mood to be subtle about her feelings toward unsolicited begging. The response was immediate. Mr. Toboggan asked, “Why did you throw that at me?” When Jennifer spelled out for him that we weren’t interested in his product, he stormed off, saying, “Damn, I’m all pissed off now!” We vacated the comfortable wall space and explored the park area around the museum for awhile, waiting for Mr. Toboggan to take his pan-handling palms elsewhere. Only then did we venture into the Field Museum and pay our entrance fee.

Deja Vu All Over Again...Another Look at Sue

The Field Museum of Natural History is apparently well-known, sort of like its counterpart, the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, in Washington D.C. As soon as we walked in the door, we beheld the grand main lobby, with the impressive model elephants and the famous Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton known lovingly as “Sue.”

Jennifer and I had seen the spirit of Sue before, at the Cosi Museum in Columbus, Ohio, circa 2002. That smaller museum sported what they called Sue’s “bone clone;” a giant plastic replica made from molds of the original fossilized bones (the most complete specimen ever found, incidentally). But here, in the Windy City, we beheld the original Sue, a massive creature of teeth and claws.
I know about the current theories regarding the T-Rex as a scavenger…but if you’ve stood in front of that menacing monster’s 45-foot length and 13-foot height, there is no doubt in your mind that this was no less than a predatory killing machine. Sue’s skeleton still had a lightweight replica for a skull, because her original 600-pound cranium was just too heavy to mount to her body. So the museum had it upstairs on another floor.

Sue gives the Thornberries head. All 600 lbs of it.

Scribbles, Rocks, Gems, Skins and Bones

All in all, our tour of the Field Museum took us nearly four hours, but it was worth it! In addition to Sue’s big bones, we saw many other skeletons, both Mesozoic and Pleistocene. Way back in 1999, I had asked Jennifer to get a picture of me before a T-Rex skull at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. To complement that picture, I once again prevailed upon Jennifer to take a picture of me before the other most famous dinosaur … the tank-like Triceratops. At last, my boyhood glee was honored to completion.

Other bones, whose mystique we shared, included the giant sloth and, at last, a true wooly mammoth. I had hoped to see the latter during our trip to the Smithsonian, but alas, it was not to be. But here, I saw the gigantic prehistoric pachyderm’s 11-foot stance (compared to the modern elephant’s “mere” eight-foot one!) We also walked through a fascinating Egyptian exhibit, complete with hieroglyphics. The “hall of gems” made us salivate at the beauty of many a precious stone (none to compare to the Hope Diamond, of course), and in the “hall of jade,” we got our first introduction to the 8,000-year traditions of the Chinese for working that amazing medium. There were cultural exhibits as well. Jennifer, for example, greatly enjoyed touring the Pawnee Earth lodge.

Top of The Morning at Bennigan’s!

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs eventually reasserted itself. Our thirst for adventure may not have been entirely slaked, and our hunger for knowledge might have a little further for satiation, but we eventually had to turn to our attention to the more mundane thirst for soft drinks and hunger for ordinary animal flesh and dead veggies. Leaving the glorious Field Museum, we walked for a time, looking for dinner. At one point, Jennifer pointed out that we were passing the famous Art Institute of Chicago. We briefly pondered perhaps visiting a few art museums, though we were still hinky to the idea of being so geeky.

We found dinner at an Irish restaurant called Bennigan’s, where we enjoyed delicious chicken pasta Alfredo. Not to break with vacation tradition, I tried a new beer called Murphy's Amber, which had an almost Guiness flavor, but without the thick, chewable quality. We planned to get some at home, if we could find it.

The Last Mad Dash

This part got really tense. Basically, we couldn't find the Metra entrance, no matter how hard we searched, and the strain began to wear on both our moods. It started to look more and more like we were going to miss the train. Finally, we asked someone, who directed us to the stop, and we got there right as the train was boarding. Two more minutes and we'd have spent two more hours in Chicago.


The Night of a Thousand Stenches

Finally, we set out for home. Funny, as we drove through Indiana, we noted that every 20 miles, it seemed like a new miasmic, disgusting stench would permeate the air. At one point, this fecal aroma started gagging us, and I can remember Jennifer saying, “It smells like an outhouse!” I don't know what they're doing in that state, other than apparently crapping a great deal and then rolling it up into double-stacked brown dungmen to rest alongside the road somewhere. Never mind the rotting cabbage, garbage, skunky raunch and urine clouds.

We finally arrived home at around 2 a.m., tired, bone weary and ready for a beer and bed. The trip was great; we enjoyed most of it, but we were glad to finally see the boundaries of home again.

As tiring as it was, we're thankful you shared it with us! Thank you!

Ye Ende


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