First of all, I am spending a weird amount of time on the other blog - THE LEAGUE OF BRITISH ARTISTS. http://www.britsunited.blogspot.com. I have kind of become obsessed with where Colin Firth keeps his Oscar (wink wink nod nod) and if Keira Knightley will wear that print dress again and what lengh of hair Matthew Macfadyen will show up with for his next movie. The Three Musketeers 3D is due to open soon and I'm beginning to hyperventilate, not to mention Downton Abbey and what a stud muffin Bates is becoming.
When did I regress to a fifteen year old?
And on top of that, Richie and I are on the road again. And - you guessed it - the car broke down. This time in Chicago, that toddlin' town that is now covered with antifreeze from our engine.
We are here to either:
(a) get our annual physicals from a REAL doctor, not the ones that lurk in Florida
(b) see girls I went to high school with - Laura Ingles couldn't make it but Rosa and Caroline did. My god we got old.
(c) see people we used to go to DePaul basketball games with - or is it with whom we saw DePaul Basketball games? Does DePaul even qualify as a team?
(d) see my brother, Michael, who is currently in agony in Milwaukee - redundant, I know.
(e) All of the above!
Our first stop was in Perry Georgia at a Ramada. There was a reunion of Green Beret Special Forces there and they all seem to be congregating in the next room. With any luck they will never find out that Richie was assigned to payroll for Green Beret Special Forces when he was in the army. They weren't even called Green Berets back then. I think they were called The Huns or something. Anyway, Richie was with the Fighting Accountants, the geek squad, the College Boys. When the CB's didn't like a "special forces" guy they would double his payroll one month. The victim would never say anything, spend all his money, and then have no payroll for the next month. Geeks can be cruel.
Then second night we were in Paducah Kentucky and we ate our way through a Drury Inn night snack buffet, a Chinese buffet and a morning breakfast buffet. We were asked to leave - asked may be too kind a word. Back at the motel later a group of aging motorcyclists came puttering in behind us - I'm used to this sight in Florida where the Hell's Angels have gone to retire. But this group was strictly white bread. One old guy came up to us and asked us where to eat, which restaurant better presented the "local fare". I think he thought he was in Quebec or something. The plates on their bikes said Wisconsin. Figures. What other badass would say "local fare" but a Wisconsin boy?
Saw my first fall foliage.
We got to Chicago Sunday night and invaded the home of a woman I've known since grammar school - at least 150 years. Judy is blind, has been blind from birth. Very nice lady, good friend, lots of fun. We really should tell her we're here. She's growing suspicious, though, with all the food disappearing and all.