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I rose early again, having had a decent night’s sleep around 7. The house was cold, but I finally turned on the heat later, as the night was cool. The clouds were gone, and later, the sun would be the bleaching California light we get in Oregon in the late summer. I was joining friends at Taqueria Corona in Forest Grove in the late afternoon to see a friend’s band, Tequila Daydream, play a set.

Continuing the narrative, I found my usual coffee maker, a French press, and made liberal coffee from Equal Exchange. I was looking for a leisurely breakfast, so I had yogurt and a banana. I consumed breakfast while writing the blog for a few hours. Thursday, the day described, was not a busy day, and the blog was easy to finish in a few hours.

I was tired, and my back hurt. I decided to make it another quiet day (which, dear reader, will not make this an exciting blog; sorry!), and I had to prepare for a presentation at church on Sunday. I spent the next couple of hours writing out a plan for a short (about five-minute) presentation about Safe Sanctuary policies (abuse prevention) that has to be presented annually at a United Methodist Church. I wrote a Word document to read from and refer to as I do this on Sunday from the pulpit.

I print all that out and put it in Air Volvo. This way, I won’t forget my notes and will not have to do it from memory! I have to do two Sundays.

I have some catching up on mailings. I send a card like I do monthly to Susie’s facility owner. I used to mail the payment check in a fun card. I have kept the habit of mailing a card. They are good people and made Susie’s last year safe and full of love. I sent a card and a Crop Walk payment of $20 to Grace United Methodist Church in Lansing, Michigan. This is Leta’s (Susie’s mother) and Susie’s Michigan church, where Susie and I were married. Leta is rocking to support Crop Walk, a grassroots organization created in the 1940s to fight hunger in the USA.

Next, one of my Kickstarters is finishing, and I have to supply some updates. It is a graphic novel based on the short-lived TV show Kolchak: The Night Stalker. The show is available on Apple TV, and I spent just under $20 for the first season. Leaning on the hard-boiled reporter tired for Kolchak, the show is set in Chicago of the current, but long ago in 1974. Crime and corruption are themes with The Loop having a massage parlor. Indeed, nothing I found when I was there last week; The Loop is now high-end shops, food, theater, and museums. I am surprised by the music and how well done the show is. The tension is created by darkness, obviously done by filtering and shot during the day (like other TV shows from the same period, i.e., Wild Wild West) and gothic-like music with a bit of electronica. The music, I thought, was over-the-top but fun. While not scared, this is 1970s TV, I was a bit nervous. All the violence was shown in shadows or hinted at, and no blood. But the massage parlor gals were scantily clad and included folks of various races. Again, this reminds me of Star Trek and other shows from the 1960-70s. The first episode was a weak Ripper story.

I look forward to seeing how the show changes as the actors adjust to the material.

Lunch was chili I made a few weeks ago and froze. I put the bag from the freezer in a large glass measuring cup and took three tries to get it to be hot. I had that for lunch with a spoonful of sour cream. It was still good.

I read for a while because I was still tired. I dressed in a T-shirt under a floppy sweater and opened all the doors to raise the house above 64F, but all that did was raise me to 65F (18C). As I said above, I finally turned on the heat.

Dondrea, with Z, picks me up, and we take her vehicle to Forest Grove. We soon arrived, as the traffic was light. I buy the first round: a virgin Piña Colada for Z and a spicy margarita for Dondrea. Dondrea buys dinner. The rest of the church crowd soon shows up. The music soon starts, and the set mixes oldies and some newish alternate rock. The band and singers are excellent, and Andrew plays the banjo and some of his stuff. It was excellent.

The band finishes around 8, and we leave about 8:30 after hanging out with the band for a while. Dondrea drops me off, and soon, I will return to reading. Soon, I am in my pajamas, still reading about murder and crime in French Canada, and nod off in mid-sentence. I wake and, after a couple of rolls and overs, sleep until my alarm wakes me for Sunday.

Thanks for reading.

Friday morning, I rise before 8. I am sleeping well at the house but resisting heating it as we head into fall mornings with temperatures in the mid-50s (13C) at sunrise. I hate to waste money and also generate carbon. The orchids enjoy the 66F (19C) at night. I found the French Press, coffee (liberal), and the electric kettle in the kitchen and assembled breakfast. I added a banana and a small yogurt.

I spent the sunny morning trying to recall Thursday and write its story. It is not always easy to remember the previous day in enough detail to write the story, so I spent a few minutes formulating a framework for the day. I applied boilerplates that have been successful in thousands of blog entries. While creating a plan in my mind, I also read some emails, reviewed the news (mostly political), and updated Quicken with the transactions for the last few days. I correct or accept the categorization of the transactions. All my credit cards and bank accounts daily download to Quicken. I am relieved that US Bank transactions are direct debits from utilities and other expenses. My miles-earning Alaska Airlines card is now the card I use. AMEX is also just a few items now. Better.

I noticed that my 40-pants fit better. I am not walking that much these days back from Chicago, but every day in the Windy City was 10K+ steps. Despite the deep-dish pizza and Chicago dogs, I may have lost more weight. This is my plan; I would rather spend the money not on trainers and gyms but on flights and hotels and get my steps in there. It is good for my mind and body. I keep not having high-calorie meals while I travel, as the meals often disappoint. A good pizza, never that expensive, was always better.

I wrote for a few hours, finished, and posted the update to the blog. Next, I found the mail had been delivered. I held the mail and then asked for a delivery of all the accumulated mail. The mail included a Kickstarter and a book I had made in India.

The book is a leather-bound reprint from a scan of the original book. I searched the Internet for used old travel books from the period I was interested in, in this case, London in the 1880s-90s. Libraries and people generally throw away old, dated material like travel books. The books are a treasure trove of details now lost and forgotten. My collection of 1925 Egyptian travel guides provides a clear view of the expected experience of a visit nearly a century ago.

For example, if I was playing a version of a role-playing game set in 1880s London and my players were trying to smuggle, as they would, firearms into England, what is the procedure for clearing their luggage? Charles A. Gillig’s Guide to London and Important Suburban Districts: Specially Compiled for the Use of American Travellers, 1887, covers this process and the exchange rates and coinage. Unknown to me, the landing for Americans would be in Liverpool, not London, and one can arrange for one’s bags to be checked by the train to London. Prices of First, Second, and Third class are provided, and Third class is recommended for the thrifty traveler. This should help me with my Sherlock Holmes stories, so I acquired a copy of the book. It took two months to arrive.

A small Kickstarter Dungeons and Dragons 5E adventure book was also fulfilled. I wanted to see how the authors arranged the material and created a challenge for powerful adventurers. I was less impressed, I am afraid. Best to say nothing more.

I am still tired and stiff, and I have decided that there is no reason to return to walking today. I was also not cooking today, so I went to BJ’s Brewhouse via Air Volvo for a beer and lunch. I sit at the bar, which disappoints Mel and Eric, my usual waiters, who have tables today. Rachel is at the bar and finds me, with some difficulty, a lunch menu. I order the Italian-style lunch and a beer. The food was excellent.

Mel will be my waiter if I decide to hold a wake for Susie with drinks and appetizers on Sunday, 13 October, the anniversary of her passing. I have only to call BJ’s and get a few tables set in the bar area. I am thinking about it.

Corwin appears at the house after I return and rest briefly after a heavy lunch and beer. We talk about history, and Corwin collects his mail, some of which still appears here. He heads out, and I finish chores at the house, like putting away the laundry from yesterday.

I put on my black suit for “Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors” at Theatre in the Grove in Forest Grove at 7:30. I added a blood-red vest and a tie with shields hung in a tree. The usual pocket watch and black leather shoes. I want to look the part. My Homburg hat finishes the look.

(Sun!)

Dondrea and Z appear, and we board Air Volvo for the rest of the trip to Forest Grove. I supply trinkets from my Chicago trip. Z gets a 007 Science T-shirt from the Museum of Industrial Arts. Dondrea, a bookworm, gets an O’Keeffe book on the artist’s NYC paintings (which Dondrea and I both like better than the flowers and desert images that follow the NYC works). I also provide Dondrea with a book of James Bond sayings. Lastly, I found two sets of post earrings that Susie never wore (still in the original containers) that are more Victorian. I gave them to Dondrea and Z, who used the new earrings to update their look.

We stopped at The Grand Lodge and had dinner at the Iron Grill. It seemed to be the most spookish place for food in the area. Z had a strange concoction of Poke Nachos over cajan tater tots (no chips). Dondrea and I shared two appetizers, a flatbread, and a hummus platter. We also had even more cajan tater tots to share.

We reboarded Air Volvo and managed to park near the theater, but we soon had two blood bags (cranberry juice: B type) and our seats. Folks loved my look for the play. The play had only five actors, a stage, lights, and sound people. Dracula only played one part. The others did three or more. We saw some rapid changes; overall, it was well done, funny, and risque. We will return in March 2025 for “Arsenic and Old Lace.”

I have seen Dracula and know the play and the book well. They started by literally throwing the book away, and I noticed all the changes (the ship that wrecks is Demeter in the book, but they called the Stoker after the author–a fun change). Only a few lines of the original were kept (“enter of your own free will,” I heard), and the staging was sparse. Van Helsing was now German and a woman. They gleefully raided material from Monte Python, the Marx Brothers, Dick Van Dyke, Mel Brooks, and Saturday Night Live. Running jokes and set pieces worked, and even people were props. If I were to pick a few words, I would say Fearless Acting and Funny.

Still laughing, we (called by friends the DMZ when together) found Air Volvo and were soon at The Volvo Cave. Dondrea and Z headed home in their car. Next, I disassembled my outfit, requiring care not to lose or wrinkle things. I was tired, and it was not late on a Friday (jet lag). I showered and soon was in my PJs, reading and next sleeping. I slept through the night.

Thanks for reading!

I never changed time zones, so my sleep returned to normal Oregon, and I rose before 8. The house is cold as I return to no AC and is too-f**king-soon-to-use-furnace temperatures. I can suck it up, saving money and not producing carbon in my natural gas-fired, reasonably efficient furnace for another week. Cold and liberally happy with my choices, I make liberal coffee and steel-cut oats (which I don’t burn this time). I add a packet of nuts, raisins, cranberries, and some brown sugar to the oats. So good! The last banana (black and will soon rise as an undead fruit) is not consumed and sent to the trash. Yikes! A safe apple sauce (no sugar or anything but applies and ascorbic acid) fills in for my morning fruit.

I started the laundry, which would be ongoing all day using The Machine (a combination washer and dryer that uses no vent and a regular power plug). My water and power bills have been reduced since The Machine took over. Yes, it has AI, talks to me via an app, and quarterly software updates. It plays the famous notes of Beethoven’s 9th when the laundry is done. Corny, I know, but what the f**K, for the price, it should give me a back rub too.

I wrote the blog and texted often. It finished around 11 with a long story of Chicago and flying back. I dressed and soon headed out in Air Volvo. Chores. I stopped at the dry cleaners and took my now wrinkled suit to be restored to its previous elegance. Next, I stopped at the 185th and TV Highway fruit and veggie stand. I got lettuce for the tacos I planned to make. I picked a few more items for various meals (but realized I am busy every evening until Monday–social butterfly-ing). I had to park inside the area as the place was busy, and folks were waiting for me to move Air Volvo. Oops. I took a less direct route to the car wash, where I pay for daily car washes all month (if I want). The birds at PDX had located Air Volvo; ick!

With the Air Volvo clean and loaded with veggies and fruit (including 1/2 price fading bananas), I arrive at The Volvo Cave. The white neighbor’s cat apparently missed me and blocked me momentarily before deciding to walk away and let me use the driveway and street. I unloaded and stored the treasurers. I discovered my crisper draw in the frig was now an experimental lab. I disposed of the test subjects, many showing lycanthrope symptoms (furry); sad that I had not checked before, and some are not replaced.

My legs hurt, I am tired, and I am coughing. This is a day of rest for me. Like most Americans, this does not mean reading religious texts and contemplating the infinite compared to our short moral lives, but instead catching up on my favorite shows on cable. I completed the Murder in the Building episodes I have missed. This is a fun show, and this season is going well. Lord of the Rings: Rings of Power is a disaster of non-conical but exciting stories. I catch up and find all my favorite characters are suffering, and things are going poorly, which fits LOTR even with the sideways-going stories. While I find it strange to have only a vague idea of what is happening in a LOTR setting, it makes the story more interesting. Be warned, Rings of Power is strange, but it is still fun to enjoy Tolkien-like stories and the impressive special effects.

I make tacos to go with this. I use Trader Joe’s taco spice, and the meat is more of a hot chili now. I added a can of fire-roasted tomatoes and fire-roasted corn. I roast the taco shells with the cheese in them to melt them. I eat too many, stuffing them with lettuce before the meat so it stays inside. While I already miss the Chicago pizza and dogs, making a taco of my own is good. Next time, 1/2 the spices!

I am tired, meaning I get in my PJs after a shower. I try to read. It is too early. I rise and off to my laptop and Expedia. Four or more tries to get a week in New Orleans (NOLA) in October. Nothing is working as trying to make a week work. Finally, I accept $2300 for a trip for a week to a new hotel with a room with a balcony. I then add three cooking classes (two hands-on) and will likely plan more items I missed last time, like the river trip. And looking for vampires again. Plus, the excellent used book store. Yes, much to do.

With dreams of NOLA, I return to bed, close my eyes after reading a few pages of more murder mysteries set in French Canada, and dream words not in the story again. Yes, I dream-read. I close the Kindle and sleep all night.

Thank you for reading!

Going backward, I arrived at The Volvo Cave in Air Volvo from Portland’s airport, unimaginatively named after its call letter, PDX. The travel back was interrupted by southbound I-5 being closed, and I was easily rerouted to 405 and the “Space Shuttle” ramp, which is taller than the Fremont Bridge roadway at its peak! Having switched to the Fremont (405) from the Marquam (I-5), I arrived in Beaverton without issues. It is about the same distance, and there are more chances to drive fast on 405.

I found the house as I left it. I made the bed from newly washed sheets, the dishes were all done, and the house was put in some order to greet me. Corwin had done some lawn work for me. The little garden was gone, and grass seed was planted in its hole in the lawn. He misted the orchids and put a package, my Dungeons and Dragons new 2024 Players Handbook (a second copy), which also comes with a PDF version, in the house.

I showered and was in bed before 1. Unlike the hotel, I was asleep immediately. I was tired from the travel, lack of sleep, and 14,000+ steps for the day. I slept until 6ish.

Going further back in my day, the newer 737, a United flight, was more comfortable than most 737s but had a smaller economy space than any other plane I fly. The Alaska Airlines flight inbound to Chicago was the older model and was more bus than flight. Inbound to PDX, this flight had an entertainment system, and I got earbuds from the stewardess. I can only hear in one ear, but I turned up the sound to near max and used CC to help with all the plane noise. I will soon change back to Bluetooth noise-cancelling headphones. The CC helps me now; I am afraid I use it constantly. I think I need glasses with CC built into them (something that is now possible but not yet available).

I tried music and sleep, but that was not going to work, and it was only a 3:45 flight. I instead picked the newest Planet of the Apes movie I missed in theaters. It is a story set a few generations later. Humans, we learn, called “echos,” are dying out and are only seen when there is draught, and they wander further from their usual hunting and gathering lands. The movie is the tale of the Eagle clan that raises eagles and uses them to catch fish. The clan is attacked. A human gal who can talk is on a mission, and she connects with the apes, and they destroy a military bunker (she gets a hard drive), and so on. It was well done, and the fable was told in a strange setting. I liked it.

After boarding the plane in Chicago, one of the overhead bins would not lock. We waited thirty minutes for the repair guy, delaying our flight. He looked at the issue, put a sticker on the bin to mark it as broken, and used clear tape to close it. With the issue resolved (sort of), we were safe to take off.

Moving to the later afternoon, I reached the Palmer House and picked up my bags from the bag storage. I rolled the bags for four blocks in Chicago to the Jackson Blue Line Elevator and took them to the ticket area. I bought a one-way ticket for $5 and took the handicap elevator to the next level. It was cool on the trains, but the platforms were hot. It was a short wait, and I boarded the O’Hara-bound train and found a chair. It is about an hour’s trip and reminds me of the Washington DC Metro, not NYC. I felt safe the whole trip. The last station was ridiculously hot, with giant fans blowing to move the air but not to cool it.

I rolled my bags on and on and found I was in Terminal 1. I worked out the check-in process, tagged and handed over my bag (having paid United $40 for the first bag–first bag was free on Alaska), and received my seat (not an upgrade) without additional cost (the same seat was offered to me for $129 last night, f**k that for a less than four-hour flight). I walked and walked and found security and managed to not have my pants fall off without my belt. I passed, but people were dropping things everywhere, and I had to retrieve a dropped earbud from the gym bag I used for my carry-on. I soon found a sandwich and a place to charge my laptop and iPhone. I loan my plugs, and I carry a spare and a battery to a gal who charges her phone. I spend a few hours enjoying my sandwich, reading, texting, and surfing the Internet. I bought an overpriced bottle of water but refilled it.

I head to the gate and find a chair at the laptop bar. I see someone who used to work at Nike in the upgrade line, but I am aggressively ignored. Never really liked him, either. I am in the last group and find my cheap seat in the middle, 26B. One seatmate is more aggressive-ignoring, but the other is friendly and an engineer. We both watch the events of the broken overhead bins with amusement.

(you can see my reflection over the shark)

Moving back further, the Shedd Aquarium was Wednesday’s tourism target. I walk to it—a thirty-minute walk—and head to the lakeshore, trying to remember the matching hymn. I go slow and learn not to walk on the bike trail but to use the pedestrian trail by the water. While walking, I spotted the water taxi company I used yesterday’s dock. I climb many steps, discover the aquarium is buried in construction, and have to walk around it. The sun is hot today in Chicago, and the lake’s humidity does not improve the experience. The line is long for ad hoc tickets, but there is a QR code to scan.  I buy a ticket on my phone before the line moves a lot. I wait on a bench for five minutes, and the ticket pops into my email. I enter and find the dolphin show about to start. I sit high up with my back of the rock–not comfy but still better, and another gal joins me. She is taking a bus tour from Boston and, like me, traveling alone. She, too, travels often and visits museums all over. I will have to check on bus tours–I like that idea for the more compressed East Coast. We chat about our travels while we wait for the show to start. It is the usual seaworld stuff, and I don’t bother with the camera.

I found the colossal reef tank with sharks and lots of fish, which is more my style. I got the required shark picture. There are also real reef tanks with coral, crabs, and various invertebrates. While well done, I have seen better setups in Portland and Beaverton aquarium stores. Still, I am a sucker for a well-stocked aquarium. I soon find the vast collection of tanks. The Shedd specializes in tanks for fish, invertebrates, and small reptiles worldwide (no bugs, though). Some tanks are for deeper water, shaded water, and ice-cold water. The Pacific Northwest tanks were cold. I was impressed as you don’t see large cold water tanks as warm water is easier, as you, dear reader, can imagine.

I did the 4D show on octopuses (for another $5), which included a moving chair and tentacles hitting your feet. It was an excellent but short show. I jumped twice when my feet were hit by something that felt like part of an octopus.

While the museums were a more interesting trip and the endless fish blurred together, it was still a good day, and the Chicago dog was good (the poppy seed bun was not provided, but I can forgive that). I would only plan a 1/2 day for the Shedd, but it is just as expensive as the others. The Field Museum is across the parking lot. I think this is an excellent place to use a City Pass. Two 1/2 days here unless there is a good show at Field (Field is a natural history with dinosaurs and that stuff, and I decided to skip it).

Another 35-minute walk back, a $20+ taxi trip, or a water taxi. I forgot that I wanted Union Station and instead got a ticket for Michigan Avenue (meaning a 15-minute walk to the Palmer House). I then enjoyed the water taxi for two trips. I then enjoyed walking one more time in Chicago while I returned to get my bags and headed out at 4ish.

Starting Wednesday, I rose at 6:30 (or 4:40 PDT) to write the blog and pack. I have to sit on my bag to close it, and I no longer regret the insane price I paid, as the zippers hold for the overstuffed case. I shower, dress, and write. I assemble everything and put on a dress shirt for the flight. I have found that the airline crew will treat you better if you look more like a businessman. It was too hot for the sweater in my gym bag.

Breakfast is again at Goddess and the Baker, a block away, after a quick check-out and storing my bags.   I have their biscuit sandwich and manage 2/3 of it. Not as good as the ham was still cold. I could have done better. I get to sit at a table on the sidewalk on Wabash in the old jeweler area and watch Chicago start work on another hump day. There, I decided on the Shedd Aquarium and to walk (Chicago Institute of Art is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays).

And that takes us full circle. Thanks for reading. I enjoyed my trip, seeing friends (Deborah), enjoying shows (The Book of Morman, Rigoletto, and Henry V), having more to see at Navy Pier, and just walking around The Loop. I might exchange London House for Palmer House to be on the river (with a daily pass for the water taxi), but I enjoyed Palmer House. However, the Hilton daily charge of $25 and the lack of a complimentary brunch-style breakfast (they wanted $200 for a daily voucher at the restaurant) did not sit well with me. The hotel seemed a bit corporate and had less service than I am used to for this price range and a historic hotel. Marriot does this better, and I am comparing this to the US Grant in San Diego (a favorite).

It was a great day and a great week. Thanks for reading.

 

While sleep seems hard to find in hotels, I did manage to sleep after midnight. However, I woke at 5 AM, rolled over, and tried to sleep again. It seemed that an eyeblink later, it was 6 and then 7. I rose and started on the blog. Still, I did not request a coffee maker and thus wrote with just water and music. I would reach just below 15,000 steps for the day. My back did not start to feel and be painful until the final hour of walking, a thirty-minute walk from Navy Pier to Palmer House.

(Only one photo downloaded, sorry)

I intended to take some water tours today, including the architectural tour on the Chicago River. I wrote the blog for a few hours, knowing (I took a photo when I walked by the sign for the tour) that the tour was about 10. I thought the first tour was near the train station (that was where the sign was). I finished and published the blog and then quickly showered, shaved, and dressed in my room on the 23rd floor, 258. I headed out to find a donut and coffee towards the river and the building formally known as the Sears Tower. A small Dunkin Donuts near the tower supplied coffee and a pumpkin donut (they did not have an old-fashioned, my fav). There, I discovered that the tour was not even open on a Tuesday morning. F**k. I found a table, ate my donut, and enjoyed the warm coffee; the building security reminded me last time that you don’t sit on the stonework that is well seat level but may use their tables–so I followed this direction this morning. I did not comment when I was warned that if you value the stonework, why don’t you clean it (it was hard to find a place to sit as it was).

Nearing 10:30, a ship, a water taxi called ASAP, appeared, and I walked down the steep stone steps to the river level. They sold me a ticket for 11:45 for the tour and a water taxi ride to the tour, which was on Michigan Avenue dock, a twenty-minute walk away. I was the only passenger. I talked to a gal in a white shirt with officer marks on her shoulders, who I assumed was the captain, and a guy wearing a life vest who was the deckhand. They were friendly, and we chatted until we left. Then, the deckhand chatted (the captain was busy driving the water taxi) with me about his jobs in advertising. I was dropped off at the Michigan Avenue area and had just under an hour before the tour. I headed to Habor Eggs and had an excellent Eggs Benedict for a second breakfast and lunch. Omar, my waiter, was fast, and while I was rushed, the food appeared immediately, and the coffee, I definitely needed more, was supplied, American Mid-west style, in a small pot, allowing you to do your own refills. A to-go cup was provided, and I paid early so I could just walk out when done. I thanked everyone when I left and gave Omar a large tip. I walked by the University of Chicago Book Store and returned there after the tour, but it was just notebooks and gear for the school. I climbed down the three sets of stairs to reach the river and queued up with the other folks for the tour. Soon, I was seated on a folding chair at the top of the tour. Antonio was our tour guide, and he was excellent.

The tour lasted seventy-five minutes, and the boat had a bar and restrooms (heads). I mainly stayed in my seat and enjoyed Antonio explaining Chicago’s history by pointing out the different styles of its buildings. It was an excellent tour. Antonio told terrible jokes and mentioned places for ice cream and the best rooftop bars.

I returned to walking Chicago, unsure if I should take an Uber or walk back; I retraced yesterday’s walk, which seemed a waste of my time. But then I saw I was at the London House, a hotel. I went in and followed a couple on the same quest, and soon, I was at the rooftop bar. While only 21 stories, it was still a breathtaking view, and the same tour boat I had just left, which looked tiny, was back on the river. To the bartender, a friendly man, I said that Antonio, the tour guide, sent me; the bartender said Antonio was “a smart man” and made me an excellent Gin and Tonic from Bombay Saphire (the good stuff). I drank this slowly, standing, and looked out into Chicago. The day was warm and clear, nearly perfect. After finishing the drink and enjoying the view for twenty minutes, I thanked the bartender for making a lighter drink, as I was not affected and could find my hotel. With mocking sternness, he suggested he had failed, and if I had another, he promised I would not be able to find anything after that drink. I thanked him but left happy with only one drink in me.

The gin made the long walk pleasant. I found my way back, taking photos here and there. I even saw one of the Batman-style lights!

I rested for a while at the hotel, still under my 10,000 goal for walking with all the boating. I cleaned up and shaved again. I put on a dress shirt and a tie loosely around my neck but in my button-down collar. It was now late afternoon when I reached the street level near the Palmer House and soon had an Uber taking me for $30+ to the Navy Pier. Chicago charges for rush hour ($1.50) and to be dropped off at a special site ($5), knocking the price up. The trip was in messy traffic, and I tipped well. I walked to the end of the pier, looking at places to eat and seeing Antonio’s recommended ice cream place (I passed).

I selected Bar Sol because it had a line of chairs looking out at the pier and the waters of Lake Michigan. My waiter, Louisa, was happy to let me eat and drink slowly because they were not too busy on a perfect September night. They had no coffee (that is when you know you are not in the Pacific Northwest) and only made it in the morning. Sparrows made a show for me as the little garden near me was their dusting location. I threw them a chip; I had chips and salsa to start.

I ordered their seafood mix and accepted Lousia’s warning that it was a little spicy (it was a lot spicy). When it came, it was enough for two (or even three) and intimidating. And the price now made since it was a lot of seafood. I decided to ignore prices at my last dinner in Chicago (I will likely get something at the airport on Wednesday). I managed to eat about 1/3. Henry V (put on by the local Shakespeare Company on the pier) was at 7. I paid and walked about 1/2 of the pier to find the playhouse.

The playhouse was lovely, small, and intimate, reminding me of a playhouse in Washington, D.C., and theaters in the round. No storyteller was in their version, but they all shared this role, which moved from actor to actor. The dress was tired, dirty military, with sweat-stained t-shirts, and the king and others wore various countries’ uniforms as the play continued. The battles were Korean War or early Cold War, styled with machine gun fire and explosions. The actors ran through the theater, sometimes on the balcony next to the audience. When the storytelling restarted, the actors would remove their uniforms or additions to their costumes, return to sweat-stained plain military dress, and speak with the role passed between them. This created a page-turning effect and allowed the audience to imagine the next place. The play was excellent, and the words made me tingle, and when the King addressed the audience as his army, we were ready to face the French and wanted not one more man (or woman)!

For the intermission, the actors played music and sang songs. These songs slowly changed to all French, and the play restarted in the silly French scenes almost seamlessly. The play ends with the sad memory of Henry V’s early death, and soon I was headed out.

I walked the thirty minutes back, some in the dark as not all the lights were on by the lake shore. I was not scared, and it was the perfect night to walk. I was soon back in my room and could not sleep until midnight, but at least I was asleep before 1!

Thanks for reading!