48 Hours to Chicago and Back
From the notebook I started using on June 8, 2022 at 7:52 AM (the one with the Miller High Life label taped on its cover):
September 10, 2022
12:50 a.m. - Downtown Cincinnati:
Walk out of building, take out trash.
Go back upstairs to make sure I really locked the door even though I know I just did (but what if I didn’t?).
Walk out of building again.
Guy on Main St. is blasting “What is Love” by Haddaway from his SUV. He salutes me. I salute back.
Finally feeling good for the first time today (technically yesterday now). I’m going somewhere. I’m doing something.
Catch the No. 49 bus at Government Square.
1:10 a.m. - Union Terminal:
Waiting room is nearly full. Hushed conversations and creaks of the benches make the place sound like the grade school church I grew up going to.
Kill time walking around the adjoining museum center and lament that Cincinnati only has threadbare Amtrak service three times a week in the middle of the night.
2:00 a.m. - Train Platform:
It’s humid and warm.
Board train and receive my seat assignment.
Polite conversation with seatmate.
Train leaves northwards out of Cincinnati, first time I’ve taken “the Cardinal” since 2012.
Pop a sleep aid and attempt to get comfortable.
5:15 a.m. - Indianapolis:
Despite the sleeping pill, I’ve only managed to nod off in half lucid, short bursts.
The train’ll be stopped here for awhile. Several folks getting off to go smoke.
Lady from the seat in front of me offers a Capri Sun. Her fiancé packed them for her, but she apparently doesn’t like them. I place it in my bag.
Smokers come back on board smelling like old bowling alleys and not in a comforting, nostalgic kind of way.
Train departs at 6:00 AM. Trying to fall asleep again.
7:41 a.m. - Lafayette, IN:
Slept poorly, if at all. Wide awake now, though.
Start writing. I’m on the third draft of some work I started back in 2018, but can’t seem to get back into it lately.
8:10 a.m. - Somewhere in Indiana:
A guy just boarded the train and is being a dick to the attendant about not getting a window seat…or something…can’t really tell what he’s mad about. He’s just a jackass muttering to himself across the aisle.
Walk to the dining car and buy a cup of coffee. Despite not being at all picky about coffee, this is the worst I’ve ever tasted.
Buy another cup of terrible coffee.
9:16 a.m. - Somewhere else in Indiana:
Writing’s going well. The white noise of the train—its rumble on the tracks and the muffled sounding of its horn—is comforting.
9:30 a.m. - Somewhere outside Chicago:
There was a change to Central time at some point.
The outside scenery has become more dense and city-like, the windmill farms and cornfields are long behind us.
I see the beginnings of the “L.”
9:54 a.m. - Union Station, Chicago:
Sitting on a bench waiting for Travis to call, enjoying air that’s fresher than what had been on the train.
There’s some terrible smooth jazz playing.
I meet Travis in his car outside on Jackson St.
10:42 a.m. - Elmwood Park, Illinois:
Not sure how Travis found Johnnie’s Beef, but it’s apparently the best according to locals. There’s a haze in the air wafting from the restaurant over the sidewalk and a line has already formed in anticipation of the 11:00 AM opening.
Wash down the daily meds with the Capri Sun from earlier since this is technically the “start” of my day.
I order an Italian Beef with hot peppers, fries, and Italian ice. It’s all fantastic.
I combat the heat of the peppers with the Italian ice and then fight the ice cream headache with fistfuls of French fries.
12:05 p.m. - W North Ave:
We wander into Café Calidá for coffee and a place to sit. I love the glass blocks of the building and appreciate restrooms that are far cleaner than those of the train.
Travis and I look over our map and debate what all we want to see today.
12:27 p.m. - Humbolt Park:
We ditch the car and start walking on “The 606”/The “Bloomingdale Trail,” Chicago’s version of New York’s “High Line.”
1:03 p.m. - Logan Square & Wicker Park:
Wander throughout various neighborhoods. The nearby “L” trains are a constant background hymn, lovingly announcing their presence with a roar every time one rolls through a few blocks over.
2:30 p.m. - Wicker Park:
We stop into the Walgreens that used to be a bank.
3:36 p.m. - Hamburger U:
We decided to visit McDonald’s global headquarters because the restaurant within has the chain’s menu items from around the world.
This location is unlike every other McDonald’s in that it’s well staffed, clean, has high quality food, features working ice cream machines, and is actually an enjoyable place to eat. Not sure if anyone working in the nearby corporate campus has ever been to a real McDonald’s.
I order “White Chocolate McPops” from Spain and “BBQ & Cheese Fries” from China. They’re both adequate.
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” is blaring in the restaurant as we eat.
4:33 p.m. - West Loop:
Wander around, make photographs, get honked at by an aggressive driver in an alleyway.
5:15 p.m. - The Allegro Royal Sonesta:
Travis checks us into the hotel.
I change into a fresh t-shirt. Even though Labor Day was last weekend, summer temperatures are still in full effect. It’s wonderful. Summer is the best season. It’s a hill I will gladly die (of heatstroke) on.
5:52 p.m. - Downtown Chicago:
We walk along the Riverwalk making photographs. When we get caught in crowds, it smells like body odor and a wharf. When we’re not caught in groups of other tourists, the setting and evening light are beautiful.
7:05p.m. - Rossi’s Liquors:
We wander into a dive bar recommended to us by a friend.
Despite the name, the place seems to be more known for beer. You walk to a cooler, pick what you want, then take it to the bar to pay and have it opened. There’s also salad dressing in the cooler.
The place is neat, but the crowd sucks. Lots of bachelor party bros.
The bottle of Zesty Italian has never been opened.
7:30 p.m. - Illuminati’s Pizza:
Actually called “Lou Malnati’s.”
Apparently a very stereotypical tourist stop, but still worth it because the pizza is so damn good.
I feel sad that Cincinnati doesn’t have any similar pizza back home, but I also feel happy because this pizza is absolutely amazing (and because we can get beer without some frat boy screaming at the top of his lungs about once being on a tennis team).
We meet a guy dressed as Hollywood Hulk Hogan. As far as I’m concerned, this makes up for all the times in life I never got to see Hulk Hogan. This man and I agree that we are “nWo for life.” Both myself, and eight-year old me, are very content in this moment.
9:00 p.m. - Shamrock Club:
We find a bar that appears to be more low key. Our suspicion of good quality is confirmed by a friendly crowd and an older, drunk regular who welcomes us in while precariously balancing on his stool and twirling a cigarette in his hand.
Beers are good. People are nice. I explain to Travis how I never got to see Hulk Hogan as a kid. He politely listens.
9:58 p.m. - The Allegro Royal Sonesta Bar:
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” is playing again, this time from a nearby ballroom where a wedding is happening.
I tell Travis that I should only have one more drink because I’ve been up for well over 24 hours.
We order several more drinks.
The bartender keeps calling me “Jefe.”
Travis convinces me to drink a “Corpse Reviver 2.” It tastes like black licorice (apparently due to the Absinthe spray). I hate it, but it works.
We are entering “Fear and Loathing” territory.
I start recounting stories to Travis about past Chicago trips such as how a friend and I would come to this city as soon as our theme park jobs ended for the season, and, that time I went to a concert and was able to score several free Long Island iced teas resulting in an adventure to go photograph the John Hancock tower. I love this city. It’s good to be back.
The wedding lets all of its guests out at last call. These folks are rude to the bartenders. I dislike them immensely.
We call it quits.
September 11, 2022
10:17 a.m. - The Allegro Royal Sonesta:
Travis politely wakes me up. He’s been awake since like 6 or 7.
11:00 a.m. - Downtown Chicago:
It’s gloomy today and chilly. If yesterday felt like summer, today truly feels like fall.
We walk around in the rain. 7/11 doesn’t sell umbrellas and both Walgreens we pass are closed.
11:45 a.m. - The Sears (Willis) Tower:
We grab coffee and head to The Color Factory. I pull up the tickets on my phone.
Apparently I booked the tickets for the day before and not today. Staff is very kind about this, but we need to buy new tickets.
12:30 p.m. - The Color Factory:
I have now paid twice to visit The Color Factory but this is my first visit. Found out about this place because it features an installation by artist Camille Walala. I once photographed a house she painted in Cleveland.
The Color Factory is interesting, but I gotta save that story for another day.
3:00 p.m. - Happy Lamb Hot Pot:
Travis parks the car on a side street in Chinatown and we run in the rain to a restaurant called the “Happy Lamb.” I’ve never had “hot pot,” but Travis has never once steered me wrong when it comes to food.
5:15 p.m. - Chinatown:
Somehow we spent two hours eating various delicious things cooked in delicious broth. I worry that I didn’t cook the pork wontons long enough.
Wander Chinatown and make photographs.
Find a parking ticket on Travis’ car.
7:00 p.m. - Highland, Indiana:
We stop at Johnsen’s Blue Top Drive-In. Travis has photographed this place before, but I’ve never been. It’s a nice nod to our road trip last year.
I take the waitress’ recommendation and order a milkshake made with Froot Loops. Wonderful.
7:40 p.m. - Somewhere in Northwest Indiana:
We’re firmly on the road towards home.
Northwest Indiana is a depressing hellscape. There are several billboards near the casinos for pawn shops that can help patrons “gets back in the game,” as well as, advertisements for a lawyer that can help diabetic truckers “avoid leg amputation.”
September 12, 2022
12:22 a.m. - Somewhere Outside Cincinnati:
It’s been a smooth drive. We’re nearing home. Switched back to Eastern time at some point. I’m almost done writing this piece, but carsickness is taking hold. I give up writing and watch familiar scenes come into view while suppressing the urge to vomit. Not sure if it’s the car/screen combo or if I really didn’t cook those wontons well enough earlier.
12:55 a.m. - Downtown Cincinnati:
Travis drops me off at my building and I walk into my apartment just a little over 48 hours since I left it.
1:50 a.m. - My Desk:
Was going to try and publish this post immediately, but I’m too annoyed with my slow computer to deal with it. I crack a beer and go to bed.
7:35 p.m. - Cincinnati:
Published this post after work.
Left to go pick up the dog.
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