We ate at McDonald's twice today, and not really out of necessity. Both times, the low sun (once rising, once setting) gleamed off the curves of the happy yellow arches, taunting me toward soft, sweet bun, Peter toward fries. These stops were made less acceptable by the fact that we started yesterday with McMeals before we left Ottawa. During the last stop, we noted how homey the restaurant smelled and got a bit worried about our co-dependent lack of self-control. There will be no more McDonald's for the Panda Express.
Peter pulled us down 8 Mile this morning, as we searched for his dad's old neighbourhood. We found a beautiful brick house on a winding suburban street. Two trucks were parked outside, but many of the surrounding houses were boarded up and left. The neighbourhood and surrounding business district looked like an abandoned movie set.
Driving north into Chicago, we headed straight for Cloud Gate. Peter and Molly needed to see the Bean. Well, it was perfectly reflective and bean-shaped: seamless, glassy, amazing, an ideal set-up for tourists and vain people alike, so it suited us well in every way. We both really liked Chicago and plan to move there.
After the Bean, we drove north of the downtown area where Peter's second cousin and her husband hosted us for lox and bagels in their stunning condo overlooking Lincoln Park. Ellen talked about the city's charms and we fell even more in love. After an hour of freshening our stamina, we headed north toward Milwaukee.
We didn't mean to be heading toward Milwaukee, so after some map-checking, we figured the best and most interesting way to skip around the city was to leave the tolled interstate for a state highway. Hoping to get a sense of Middle America, we were not disappointed. Expansive car dealerships, greasy food joints, and obscure Christian churches speckle the Wisconsin heartland.
As the sun set, the western sky haloed the light traffic into Madison. When it became dark, Panda Express & Co. stopped at a Super 8 located within a set of amusement parks. To Molly Doxle's great pleasure, the fee for puppies is a mere $10, so she is tucked between us having wimpery puppy dreams. Tomorrow, thanks to Corinne Mason and Emily O'Connor, promises many super-sized roadside attractions. Let the kitschy Americana begin!
No comments:
Post a Comment