Skipping California briefly to write about a great visit to Chicago.

You know you are traveling quite frequently when you cannot keep up with your travel blogging! So, I'm skipping briefly over the rest of my CA trip (coming soon!) to write about my trip of last weekend, in which I visited my near-hometown of Chicago.

I flew to Chicago Thursday afternoon, just in time to attend the first of four games in a Cubs/Cards series. The flight went by quickly; I worked nearly the entire time and was seated next to a friendly software salesman who was wholly undeterred by the fact that I was listening to my iPod. He reminisced about the grand old days that were SMU in the 70's while drinking furtively from small airline-sized liquor bottles he had brought along with him in a plastic baggie. He then scammed a free beer from the flight attendant, first claiming his cash was in his bag in the overhead compartment and then, after she was nice enough to hand him his bag, claiming that he had only a dollar on him. Sounded unlikely to me, especially given that he was on a business trip, but the flight attendant either bought it or didn't care, and he happily chased his airline whiskey with an Amstel light.

I zipped through the airport, happy that for once I was able to avoid checking a bag, and collected my nice dark red rental Hyundai. I wish I could say I zipped toward downtown, but "inched" would be a more apt description. However, the handy signs telling you how many minutes until downtown based on current traffic are awesome and made the trip downtown not bad at all.

My hotel was easy to locate. I darted in and out in order to head out to the game. A smiling security guard downstairs directed me to the exit nearest the L station, and I made my way to the train that would take me to Wrigley Field, walking in a light rain and feeling like Annie (Susan Sarandon's character) in Bull Durham. (If you don't know what this means, turn off your computer immediately, obtain a copy of this movie and watch it before you even think about returning--it is a great movie, and one of the best baseball movies ever).

The L train ride to Wrigley was lively, with both rush hour and game traffic packing the cars before they even left downtown. I sat next to an art student who gratefully grabbed an available seat after riding for several stops while clutching his portfolio, then spent the rest of the trip flexing his hand to get rid of the clutching-induced soreness. Many young Cubs fans were on the train; they began craning their necks to see Wrigley Park when the train emerged from the subway to the elevated tracks. Their reaction when they saw it was priceless; their eyes lit up and someone said to them, "It's the most wonderful place in the world." We all emerged at Addison and poured into the park just in time to hear the singing of the national anthem. I don't attend many night games, but the park and skyline sure do look nice with the lights (although I prefer a day game any time):



I made my way to my upper-deck seat, encountering along the way a shamelessly flirty beer salesman who could only have thought that he was charming enough to elicit a nice tip. The wind was blowing so strongly that it knocked half the head right off my beer before I even reached my seat. I found myself sitting next to a devoted Cubs fan and his grandson; the telltale sign was the man's radio earpiece, through which he was listening to the WGN game broadcast. I loved hearing the pearls of wisdom the man shared with his grandson during the game on topics ranging from how to play baseball to the importance of leaving time unscheduled to just be a kid. The one thing I know for sure if I ever have a child is that he/she will have memories of the ballpark and those kinds of conversations with me. The Cubs band (I'm not sure what their official name would be) came around between innings, delighting everyone with their musical stylings:



And the rain came down lightly through most of the game:



The seventh inning stretch was fun as always:



The grandfather and grandson enjoyed it, too:



In the bottom of the ninth inning, with the Cubs down by 5 runs and 2 outs, the rain began coming down really hard:



This led to a 3 Stooges-like medley of errors by the Cards players due to the rain, which included a dropped pop foul ball (by the catcher) and a missed ground out opportunity by the Cards shortstop, resulting in the Cubs loading the bases. Soon the rain was coming down too hard and a rain delay was called, with the grounds crew rolling out the tarp:



Given the late hour, the fact that it was a weeknight and the 5-run difference in the score, many people left during the rain delay:



However, about 80 faithful fans (including myself) hung out, explored the park and chatted with each other while waiting for the rain delay to end. It felt like a huge slumber party and it was great having so much space and the ability to wander at will . . . the ushers didn't give anyone a hard time during the break--they were all chatting, too. In addition to talking to my row-mates (one of whom wore a Boston Red Sox cap) and others in the park, I amused myself by taking photos, none of which were very good:



After about an hour, the game was called, unfairly, in my view. This resulted in a Cards win, 6-1. At least the Cards did not get to celebrate their statistical "clinch" of the division tonight.

I returned to the hotel and found that a nice glass of pinot noir was just the thing to help me warm up my rain-soaked self. There was a nice guy sitting next to me at the bar . . . before long, I had learned much of his life story, although he initially did not seem like the chatty type. I was impressed by him because he had bounced back from the unexpected death of his wife (they were my same age) to raise their 3 kids on his own and recently married a woman he met in his sailing club.

As we talked, I also thought about how interesting the little microcosm of folks sitting around a hotel bar can be. This particular bar is a semi-circle, so you can see the others at it more easily than at a linear bar. There were the standard business people, but also a woman with a fake-sounding Southern accent who was there meeting her daughter, who is apparently in school in Chicago. I wondered if the daughter knows how much her mom likes to flirt at hotel bars.

After conducting some quick business on Friday morning, I was set to attend another Cubs game and was able to snag nice seats online at the last minute. The weather was significantly better than the day before, with beautiful blue skies alternating with dramatic ones:







Everyone at the game was happy to be there:







While the view from my seats was awesome,



the behind-home plate view did subject me to the most yuppified of the Cubs fans--those who inherit corporate seats and have enough money that they do not appreciate them at all. This meant I sat next to guys on each side who were only there for 3 innings each; on one side, the guy almost seemed to be attempting to caricature the Bad Cubs fan by wearing Gucci loafers, showing off a roll of cash and talking with his friends the entire time while sitting completely turned away from the field. Disgusting!

This kid in a row in front of me lived for the moment, analyzing his cotton candy carefully before devouring it:





I took some other pictures of him and his family that didn't turn out well . . . his Dad brought all three sons to the game and they looked very cute sitting all in a row. In addition to all of this cuteness in front of me, the Cubs won the game!



Which made sitting with the pretentious fair-weather fans worthwhile. After the game, I discovered a lovely alternative to the over-crowded, smoky Wrigleyville bar scene--the "reading the paper while drinking coffee scene":



More later . . . too tired to write anymore . . . . .

I'm back! I almost forgot to mention that, while kicking back and watching this game, I took a chance and sent a message inviting a guy I barely knew to meet me out whileI was in town. Now before you lecture me, please know that I knew enough about him to feel it was safe to meet out in a public place. Besides, he had piqued my curiosity and I could not resist the opportunity to find out more about him. So, that night we got together for music and later coffee, and we had a wonderful time.

The next day, I headed out to the suburbs to visit with family and friends. It was great to see them and catch up and laugh and relax and I loved goofing around with their kiddos and playing travel scrabble and driving through the farmlands in the dark in search of ice cream and everything else we did together. As if that was not enough, my friend Beth and I ended our time together with the discovery of a fabulous new store that resolves all that is bad about the clothes shopping experience, making it both pleasant and productive.

Tearing myself away from the mall like any good Midwestern girl would, I scrambled back to the city Sunday morning. I arrived at Wrigley Field just in time to retrieve the tickets from the will-call window, catch the third inning of the Cubs game and meet up with my Friday night friend, a Sox fan (yes--a gasp! is appropriate here) for the game. He survived the harrowing yuppie experience and the result for the Cubs was a good one--another win over the hated Cards:



After this euphoric experience, we headed for the dog beach at Montrose, where he coached me to better photo-taking via the closeup:







Much to my surprise, no one punched me for coming close and taking their picture, so I took more of them:

















And then we took a few snaps of each other:





shortly before ending an interesting day, and a special weekend.

Cheers to Time with Old Friends

Mike and I drove out to Livermore to visit our friends Yaravi and Eric and their growing brood:

Mike and I went to college with Yarv and Eric; Yarv lived in across the hall from me in our freshman year dorm, the now-leveled Laura Kuykendall ("L.K.") Hall. Yarv and I shared many college adventures, including keeping our spring break condo from being condemned by the health department and taking a solo and ill-advised walk through Matamoras together and living to tell about it. She is now the mother of three sweet, smart and fun children (number 3 was still in utero at the time of my visit, but has since made his appearance in the world) and also a doctor (currently on a child-raising break). Yarv makes being a mother of young kids look so easy that you want to try it for yourself, just because it appears so fun and effortless. I had not seen Yarv and her husband in a long time, probably since 1994 or so, when they happened to be in Austin, and had not yet met their kiddos.

As soon as Mike and I stepped in the door of their beautiful house (having survived a walk past their ever-ferocious dog Blackberry), we were immediately drawn into a whirlwind of frenzied activity, in between which we caught up on old times. The kiddos alternately acted shy and showed off their amazing abilities, which include, among other things, dancing, spinning, tumbling, playing with multiple toys at once and walking around with things on their heads like this:

Elizabeth in a restful moment:

We chatted for quite a while and then took off in search of sushi, which would be my birthday meal:

The gang tried to steer me toward a Mexican food establishment, in hopes that I would be subjected to an embarrassing birthday group sing-song, but I successfully steered them away from that concept by reminding them that I have access to pretty good Mexican food in Texas. So, sushi it was. We ate at a fabulous place whose name I cannot remember now (but I think it may have been this one), where the entrance area was as comfortable as the waiting area of a nail salon, with a little couch and coffee table and magazines. We were ushered into a small room with rice paper screens for walls and doors—perfect for a loud group like ours that included active kids, too. Over dinner, we debated the name of Yarv and Eric’s third child, who was due to arrive any day; Eric rejected all of our suggestions, even the ones that were not meant as a joke! The sushi was excellent and so was the Japanese ice cream that followed.

Apparently not having eaten enough, we retired to their house for an excellent homemade birthday cake, courtesy of Yarv and Elizabeth! I continue to be amazed by how it feels as if not a day has passed when talking with old friends like these. We stayed up late talking about everything old and new, like only friends who have known each other since they were still teenagers can do, then Mike bade us farewell, as he was leaving in the morning for an L.A. visit with his sister and nephew.

We rose pretty early in the morning, thanks in part to Wilson's freakishly earlybird personality, and ate breakfast together while continuing to catch up on life. I was fortunate enough to be visiting on the day of Elizabeth's dance class, which flew by as Yarv and I watched. Aren't these the cutest dancers you have ever seen?!?!

We returned home, picked up Eric and Wilson after their morning of wagon travel and donuts, and found a fabulous lunch at one of Livermore's local wineries. The place was beautiful, featuring a wooden front porch, a shady and graveled back patio with tables and even a bacci ball court so that the kids could keep things interesting. The restaurant's food was wonderful; I especially enjoyed the roasted garlic and fresh-baked bread.

Shortly after this feast, I tore myself away from my old friends to hit the road again, but was excited as I looked forward to seeing another old friend in El Dorado Hills, which is just east of Sacramento. On the way there, I saw some interesting things like this truck full of oranges:

and this message for the Shrub (AKA Bush the Younger):

and a very flat horizon:

A few hours later, I was thrilled to greet my friend Laura. We met as summer law clerks for the same firm. Laura, being much smarter than I am, almost immediately realized that law firm life was not for her and bailed on the clerkship, while still finishing law school near the top of her class and passing the bar exam. She has since then gone on to, among other things, read exponentially more books than are contained in your average Borders book store and simultaneously raise three cool kids, all of whom I was excited to see on this trip as well (hubby Bill was out of town on business). The kiddos are practically grown-ups, with head-spinningly busy social schedules, and I was stunned into admiring silence by Laura's ability to handle all that that involved while carrying on an in-depth catching up conversation with me. Sadly, I was so engrossed in catching up with her and following with amazement the plethora of activities in which the kids and their many neighborhood friends were engaged that I completely forgot to use my trusty camera to take some photos of them in the midst of these activities. So you will have to take my word for it that they are a very handsome family with fabulous hair! :) They also live in a pretty and comfortable house with a glorious view of the rolling hills and grasses.

Being too sleepy to go on now, I will stop for now and write next about my first visit ever to the wine country . . .

A Woey Loy Goey Birthday

After a few years of purposefully solitary activity on my birthday, I had forgotten how nice it is to spend the day with friends. On this day, my friend Mike was nice enough to fetch me at my hotel in San Francisco, even hanging out with me while I finished up a project I had to send off before hitting the road.

After that was finished, we hit the Chinatown area. First, we saw a park where ladies were playing cards:



Strangely, there was a sign near it that prohibits loitering, although the park was filled with benches that seem to invite--you guessed it--loitering:



I loved seeing the bright and colorful storefronts like these:





Mike, being Mike, delighted in the fact that Chinatown has its own Citibank branch:



Because Mike attended grad school in Wisconsin, I found it amusing to photograph him next to a barrel of Wisconsin cheese:



I also found these hat hooks amusing . . . they seemed to be waiting for the restaurant workers to return to them:



We scoured Chinatown for just the right place for a birthday lunch, and when I saw this sign, I knew it was the place:



Inside, there was a lunch counter, though we opted for a table:



Mike was disappointed that there was no dim sum cart (I have never seen one before), but I didn't miss it because the food was excellent and I enjoyed the feeling of being in Mel's Diner crossed with a Chinese restaurant. The food wasn't bad either, as evidenced by the fact that we polished off this much of it:



We walked off our excellent lunch by exploring a bit more of Chinatown, ultimately walking to the end for a peep at the adjacent Italian neighborhood:



Reluctantly, we moved along, leaving the festive Chinatown neighborhood for other destinations:



On the way, I admired this art deco building:





Mike was dead set on showing me Lombard Street, and on the way we took in some fabulous views--I particularly liked this one, as you can see:





Lombard Street itself was beautiful, both the road, with its bricks, flowers and bushes, and the houses along the way:









We headed over to Coit Tower, which Mike would offer a great vantage point from which to see the city:





I was amused by this pink van covered in magnetic letters:



Coit Tower was just what I had hoped for, offering splendid views:











I thought this tree was really cool:



And this bush as well:



The inside of the tower, reached after passing this statute in the circle drive.



offered lovely painted murals--can you tell which one contains a live person?







We returned outside, to see more wonderful views:









Then we were off to Fisherman's Wharf, where we spied Alcatraz and other interesting things like this:







This snack stand appealed to me:



As did the musician playing near it:



We spent a while watching seals:



This one was my favorite:



I could have watched them wiggle around all day--it was certainly a more interesting sight than the penguins I had to watch for 12 hours as a project in my college Animal Behavior class:



We moved on to see some human entertainment:





and boats:



and yet another view:



and a fruit stand:



and a family swaying for their adventure video:



We spied another musician, this one playing very melodic tunes:





Then we were off again, speeding toward the Bay Bridge, which would take us to Livermore to visit some dear friends from college . . . and I will write about that, and my great birthday evening, in my next installment!