Hop local/suburban Metra train into beloved Chicago (“Age will not wither; Nor custom stale”…).
Union Station is cacophonic, as commuters scurry toward their daily challenges, and, its wonderful Main Waiting Room is filled with volunteers soliciting monies to create food packages for underprivileged, and hundreds more filling containers. (Am reminded of a visit, in those years before electronic trading, when brokerages exhibited a comparable din).
Along Jackson Street, a cop car zooms to the curb, a “shotgun” policeman exits, hitches up his holstered pistol, comes around to open back “sidewalk” door. A well-dressed, middle-aged woman, un-cuffed, gets out, followed by a younger woman, and then, two youngsters… it takes a moment (and the cop’s “Thank You” to his driving partner) for me to realize “Chicago’s Finest” provide “taxi service” for their own.
Delight, as always in Chicago’s architecture, and commitment to public sculpture
Enjoy reminder that US-66 (“Kookie, Kookie: lend me your comb’) begins in Chicago, as under Wabash Street “El” a youngish woman, suitcase in tow, plaintively asks directions, and find my memory works well enough to confidently send her toward her destination.
Lunch downstairs at Berghoff’s (in years past, an old fave), where remember its food to be better, Eavesdrop on three forty-ish businessman speculating on politics… get a sense California (citizen control over redistricting: an end to gerrymandering?) ideas are gradually making their way eastward).
Cap my day checking out Art Institute. A temporary Magritte exhibition seems slight and stifled (has curator chosen to create claustrophobic milieu?), but, as always, revel in scope and quality of Modern and Contemporary art displays.