Chicago Shenanigans

**An “Accidental Tourist” Birthday Bash**

“Friends, how many of us have them?”

How many friends do you have? I mean really? All through life, we’re meeting people from kindergarten through a minute ago in various places from the office to the grocery store. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions have crossed our path. But how many do you call friend? My earliest friends were Ricky, Ronnie and Hub. My oldest friend is Terry Tabb, as I’ve known him before I could even speak. Then, I met Blake and Hank while attending Hampton University. Picking up the telephone today and calling Williamsburg, Orlando or Hampton transform me to another time. In recent years, those calls have often been about tragedy and loss, saying goodbye to parents and close friends or fear of an approaching hurricane. And always, at the end of those dreadful conversations, the promise of getting back together during happier times. Life often gets in the way of those grand plans. As a former journalist, I’ve always stayed clear of new friends, as we are a transient group, always on the move.

Meanwhile, in Houston

In 2005, things changed for me, as I ran across an extremely intelligent and slightly larger than life Stephen Davis. It was my first week in Houston. Even though we are fraternity brothers, I’m pretty sure we didn’t like each other within days. Slowly though, a bond was forming and I was getting a best friend. Funny thing, he could have walked into a Jordan family reunion (my mom’s side of the family) and could have easily passed for a cousin. I was married then, and when I met him out for cocktails, we somehow started out at a Barnes and Noble because, “man you’ve got to see this book.” We’d eventually end up at a Montrose bar called Zimms, solving world problems while sampling Kentucky beverages. Fast forward five years, and I’m flying to Milwaukee for his wedding! To be honest, the wedding could be the beginning of the story. Since that day seven years ago this month, Stephen and I probably talk 4-5 times a week. In 2012, I met their first born and hadn’t seen Davis since.

Turning 92 (ahem, 50)

A few months ago, Stephen’s wife Courtny sent a text saying Stephen is turning 50 and she wanted to do something special for him, and hoped I could attend. Every few weeks I was updated and in the end it would be a guys weekend in Chicago. His childhood friend Aaron became the point person for Chicago and it was on! As the days approached, Davis and I had our usual chats, talking about career, family, life and photography. While I do landscape work, Davis is especially good at people photography, especially his children. The morning of the flight, I asked him what he was doing that day. He had no idea!

Off to Chicago

As I was printing my boarding pass, navigating TSA and preparing for my Chicago departure, Courtny was giving Stephen an Amtrak ticket and saying “see you Monday.” By the time I landed, Aaron already picked him up and they were circling Chicago-Midway Airport. And, he still had no idea. When Aaron pulled to the curb, I could see the face of my friend, mouth open, speechless. The surprise was complete. Tackling me at the baggage claim curb, I could see us spending the night in the Cook County Jail as airport security glared at us. Bags now stowed in the SUV, we were off. Of course they’d already stopped for food. To know Davis is to know he gets “Hangry” when hungry and a fun time can easily spin out of control. Cowboy Cab in Dallas got rich one night because of it. That’s another story.

The first stop: Tavern on Rush. Aaron “suggested” we stop at this place. And when we pulled up and all I could see was big city cool. There is nothing like Chicago, nothing. But before grabbing a table we had to secure parking. Unlike Houston, you’re going to have to valet unless you’re in the mood for a 10 block hike from your car. After briefly stopping in front of a covered parking meter, valet parking was the final option and we were in. Sitting outside was cool and gave everyone a chance to catch up. The first hour was appetizers, conversation and perhaps an adult beverage. The high on this day was 69 degrees. That’s January weather in Texas and this writer was freezing his….. fingers off, especially wearing a short sleeved shirt! Of course Stephen and Aaron were in shorts and I was the wimp! Being the shortest and smallest member of this clan, being hazed was the order of the weekend. No need getting sensitive early on.

Speaking of sensitive, moving inside was in theory a good idea. The outdoor chill was just beyond the windows and the people watching was equally fun. That was, until I heard one member of the group in a heated discussion about race relations and ethnicity. Stupidity on one side, social resolve and alcohol intake on the other. Hey wait, why do we have to leave now? I was just getting social with the locals. When you’re the birthday boy, you get a pass. But seriously? I was reliving the Cowboy Cab experience again. Thanks Stephen Davis. Hearing we were going to Harold’s Fried Chicken made everything right in the world.

Aaron, the Chicago native, searched for a particular Harold’s and we were off. By this time, I was in the back seat looking out the side window at the tall buildings go by in the darkness. Did I tell you I love Chicago? But to clarify, not between November and May. Somewhere not downtown, we pulled up to Harold’s. One of the managers was a distant relative of Aaron I think. Greetings were exchanged. I’m not kidding when I tell you the menu on the side of the wall had like 200 items (ok exaggerating a bit) but still. To the not so sober eyes of this group, we decided to go basic and not use the Star Fleet Universal translator to help us order. I think it was 20-30 wings. While not exactly like Frenchy’s in Houston, Harold’s was legit. We finished off the bucket and we were off to the hotel.

The Palmer House

Regarding the hotel, Aaron has about 7 million Hilton rewards points, and pulling up to the Palmer House Hilton was stepping back in time to old Chicago. Calling this place regal would almost be insulting. This hotel was amazing. From Wikipedia: “The first (known as “The Palmer”) was built as a wedding present from Potter Palmer to his bride Bertha Honoré. It opened on September 26, 1871, but burned down just 13 days later on October 9, 1871 in the Great Chicago Fire. Palmer immediately set to work rebuilding, and with a $1.7 million signature loan (believed to be the largest individual loan ever secured at that time), constructed one of the fanciest hotels worldwde in postfire Chicago.” Three versions of the Palmer House was constructed over the years. We ended up in a very nice suite and eventually down to the hotel bar before calling it a night.

Exploring the City

With both Stephen and Aaron being married, part of this getaway for them was getting to sleep in. I woke up around 8am and went looking for Millennium Park. The 39th Chicago Jazz Festival was entering it’s final day, and while finding the stage I also wanted to see this iconic “Bean” captured in so many photos. It just so happens the park was only 2 blocks from the hotel and I located the area where the artists would be performing later. It’s a beautiful place. Chicago did a good job identifying vistas for locals and tourists to go play while staying close to the major attractions. This area was buzzing with activity. One of the more popular places for families was the splash pool area. On each end, a face on a screen slowly change, ultimately sending a stream of water down on the playing children below. To me, it was a bit creepy. But hey, I’m just an “Accidental Tourist.”

Once the guys were up, it was time for breakfast. Aaron decided to take us away from the “tourist traps” and roam around his old stomping grounds on Chicago’s southside. Before leaving, I gave Davis a Tamron mid-range zoom lens for his Nikon. I’d confiscated his sunglasses the night before. Somehow, I think he got the better deal, but that’s just a guess. First stop though was breakfast. Pulling up to Chicago Chicken and Waffles, you just knew from the aroma you’re going to be full until Wednesday. We ordered and the food came out quickly, but one order was cold. Who orders Catfish at a Chicken and Waffles spot? Since the culprit was driving, I just ate. Again, not wanting to be the guy left behind on the southside, silence is a good thing. Aaron’s food finally arrived and once again all was right with the world. After brunch, we snapped a few photos and we were off! It was warmer than the day before. Highs in the 80’s made it easy to explore as we drove past his childhood home, neighborhoods. We saw a relative walking down the street, and even the first place his parents moved to. Aaron was a great guide and the visuals were memorable.

After leaving Chicago’s southside, we headed back towards downtown. In the midst of spirited conversation, a brief stop in front of men in dark suits (where I decided not to take my camera out) and a drive down memory lane, Aaron was kind enough to stop a few times for Davis and I to take pictures. And it was unexpected and thoughtful as we took several photos looking back at this spectacular city. Driving past Soldier Field, the Navy Pier, Wrigley Field and the Mile was much better than any tour bus guide, as we were getting the real deal from Aaron about this cool town. We headed back to the hotel for a brief break. But this had been a great afternoon of of sightseeing, conversation, and reflection.

Being that it was the last day, we took off on foot for a late afternoon walk through the city. One of the first things I noticed was that street entertainment was everywhere. And, it was sounding really good. With the Jazz Festival going on, I wondered if this was normal or were these artists working to entertain the masses between events on stage? Just curious. The riverfront is a magnet and our walking eventually took us there. We ended up at an eatery/drinkery, finding ourselves people watching for the next hour. On each side were very cool groups. To my left, the couple on their wedding anniversary and to our right, the locals who were having a “daycation” in town. Good people, good times. And, for us our time was beginning to wind down. Aaron quietly spoke of a surprise back at the hotel, and we wandered back in that direction.

Final Hours

Speaking of surprises, Stephen’s mom provided a wonderful cart of food and snacks for the birthday boy. Great selections and all very tasty! There was also dessert, but Aaron informed me I couldn’t have any of that. Kidding, well, not really. But, really. Yeah, I had some. There’s another narrative, Woodford Reserve was originally part of this plan, but the Palmer House wanted a small fortune, limbs and a small child as payment. Not having this temptation was probably good idea, as the livers in this group had already hit saturation level.

As Aaron drifted of to an unexpected nap, Davis and I wandered around to take night photos of the city. And yeah, one of us forgot to bring our camera battery charger. We ended up at the 39th Chicago Jazz Festival as the New Orleans Rebirth Brass Band was entering the finale of the event. I’d never attended this festival before and it was awesome! After it ended, we briefly stood there soaking up the moment. Aaron caught up with us in the next hour (after a pizza delivery), and we walked around the city for one last time. The sand in this amazing hourglass adventure had just about emptied, especially after not being able to get to the rooftop of the London House Hotel.

The next morning a quiet and early morning departure stage left, an Orange line “L” ride to Chicago-Midway, and the eventual Southwest flight to Texas. Looking back over 48 hours, time well spent with an old brother and now a new one.

Thanks for reading. Be thankful, as we should consider ourselves lucky to orbit the sun once a year without too much wear. And please, don’t forget to tell someone you love them. It might make their day.

To my dear friends Courtny & Stephen: Seven amazing years of marriage, two wonderful children and a lifetime of memories yet to unfold. Happy Anniversary! Because of you, there’s still hope for us who still seek that “thing” that so many lack.

Glenn ~ “The Accidental Tourist”