You might have thought that we’ve visited all of the Midwestern states in existence by now… and you’d be right. But there is still room in our lives for Midwestern minibreaks! Milwaukee in Wisconsin for example, is an hour and a half away by Amtrak. So, we took off for the weekend, armed with a Groupon for a mystery hotel.
Mitchell Park Domes. Call them geodesic domes and lose ten points.
In the Show Dome
One of the top things to do in Milwaukee is to see the Mitchell Park Horticultural Conservatory or ‘those big dome things’. You are absolutely not allowed to call them geodesic domes. They are conoidal domes, and the Milwaukee County Park System is very clear on the matter. The domes consist of a Tropical Dome, a Desert Dome and a ‘Show Dome’ of rotating exhibits, while outside there is a sweet ‘human sundial’ which invites you to stand on the right month and then have your shadow cast onto a big clock to tell the time. (Actually there are two big clocks, to accommodate Daylight Savings, which should make people angry but mysteriously does not.) Anyway, we enjoyed the domes, although I didn’t appreciate the motorway-strewn walk back into the centre of town. Good setting for a zombie film, but not for walking.
Beer! Cheese! A pretzel in a pizza box!
Milwaukee Art Museum
The irregular angle of the photograph hints at an upward progression of thought… or perhaps a downward slope?
Other Milwaukee activities included Battleship, multiple trips to the Public Market (“you guys were here yesterday, right?” asked the ice-cream man) and the cool-looking Milwaukee Art Museum. There we learned about Winslow Homer’s time in England (lots of fisherwomen) and visited a photographic exhibition on the American Road Trip, which did not make me feel any better about the aforementioned Interstate 94 along which, I suppose, a road trip might take you. We also went to the Chudnow Museum of Yesteryear which explores everyday life from the 1930s and 40s. It was the kind of small museum with enthusiastic staff who follow you around to add commentary, but in a nice way.
An Amazon browse page of yesteryear
Since it’s a little unusual for us to stay in an actual hotel rather than an Airbnb, we decided to complete our wild Saturday night of beer+cheese+pretzels by getting into bed, turning on the TV and working our way through all the TV channels like couples used to do in the olden days. Through this method we discovered the amazing Forged In Fire: Knife or Death, a competition in which contestants turn up with their own knives and work through a knife-based assault course where they, um, basically have to cut a lot of things in half. The best part is that the final part of the course is often a dead chicken, or a fish, or some falling watermelons. Needless to say everybody takes it Very Seriously, even though it seems that the people who turn up with the biggest, sharpest knives are pretty likely to win. Highly recommended.
Thank you Amtrak for getting us back to Chicago in time for La Scarola on Sunday night. Other non-Milwaukee things from the past few weeks include a ‘Run for Something‘ fundraiser (although I was not in the demographic of those whose funds were being raised) and finally watching Moana. I know everybody loved this film, and it is true there are many things to love – particularly the characters, the visuals and the opening few songs. I thought it got a bit slow towards the end, though. If this were the mid-1990s and I was a 7 year old with Moana on videocassette, it’s probably the beginning bit I would have worn out by now with replays. (Fun fact: when I watched Lady and the Tramp again after many years, it was the romantic scene of them eating spaghetti at La Scarola-for-dogs which had been watched so many times it was fuzzy.)
Hell yes, it’s Ed Miliband
This week we met the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Ed Miliband, at a low-key event at the University of Chicago.
With all of the political turmoil in the US and elsewhere, it’s easy to forget about Britain’s relatively boring experience since the 2015 general election, when Miliband’s Labour Party won a small but durable majority over the Conservatives. Ed was fortunate, of course, in that his opposition was immediately distracted by a protracted and bitter fight over who would succeed David Cameron as leader. After the mutual back-stabbing of Boris Johnson and Michael Gove, and the embarrassing revelations of Theresa May’s past convictions for trespassing over wheat fields, it was perhaps inevitable that Jacob Rees-Mogg would end up as the new Tory leader. Popular with the membership base, and with the shadowy campaigning group Inertia, he has never been fully accepted by his parliamentary colleagues and has failed to win over the country as a whole.
Meanwhile, Ed’s popularity has waxed and waned with the normal political tides. How much money does the NHS need? How much tax should Google pay? What kind of sandwiches should the newly-renationalised railway serve? (“Anything but bacon”, joked Ed.) In times of trouble, he likes to remind audiences that, had he not beaten David Cameron in 2015, the whole of politics could have been subsumed by fights about leaving the European Union for decades and decades. But it doesn’t win him much credit, since – like Obama’s handling of the financial crisis – most people can’t visualise a disaster which didn’t happen.
It was nice, and oddly relaxing, to see him in person. He’s not a charismatic icon, but a reassuring presence, and that is much appreciated right now.
Aside from this, and in addition to brunch with Jason and Carrie where I discovered that “eggs in a hole” is a thing, we saw two films last weekend. The Lobster was recommended to me years ago, and is the sort of film which some people call “absurdist” and others call “weird”. I think I genuinely enjoyed the first half, after which it dragged a bit. We also saw The Other Side of Everything at the Davis Theatre, which was fantastic. The film is a documentary by Mila Turajlić, a filmmaker whose mother (and star of the film) is Srbijanka Turajlić, a democratic activist who campaigned against the Milošević regime in Serbia in the 1990s. The whole thing is filmed from inside their apartment in Belgrade, which was partitioned by the Communists after the Second World War and, when the film begins, still has someone living in one of their old rooms as a protected tenant. Srbijanka is such a thoughtful and inspiring figure, so it was a happy surprise to see her standing up in person at the post-film Q&A with her daughter. I wished I had brushed up a little on the history of Yugoslavia before seeing the film, but even if you don’t remember anything this is highly recommended.
My own experience of long-distance Amtrak trains is that they attract two main groups of people: the elderly and the British. So it was not altogether surprising that Grace and Charlotte arrived from San Francisco after a scheduled 51-hour journey by rail, nor was it very shocking that it actually took quite a bit longer than 51 hours to get here, throwing off our Saturday night plans. But we made up for it later with dinners at Kuma’s and Little Goat Diner (two Chicago staples!), a little light Scientology brainwashing and some “welcome to the Midwest!” tea served in a QPCS mug. Still flying the flag, Queens Park.
Charlotte and Grace in Kuma’s (and not on a train)
Last week we also went back to Geja’s for Catherine’s birthday, where (like last year) we (a) dipped a lot of food in cheese fondue, (b) moved on to cooking more food in bubbling oil, before (c) returning to the fondue dipping routine with melted chocolate. I wanted to break out these steps because last year I apparently claimed to have regretted overeating in the initial cheese phase. This didn’t sound like something I would say, so – for the record, and for next year – I want to fully endorse all of the cheese. Randi and I also popped up to Evanston on Saturday for brunch with Rudy and Melissa, before getting back to Chicago for “game night” with Chloe and Aaron. Sometimes it seems that we forget to actually play games on a large portion of these nights. But we did witness how they have successfully trained their cat to respond to the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song as a signal for food.
Randi, Rudy and Melissa in Evanston
Finally, on Sunday it was Easter and/or Passover! I was very happy that Randi’s proper Cadbury Easter Egg arrived in time, and equally happy to help eat it. We also ate a large variety of eggs in various forms over brunch with Joe and Julie, before watching Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. This was not the style of film I had expected from the description, but I very much appreciated the dark humour to accompany the plot, and I now feel marginally more informed if people have belated conversations with me about the Oscars.
Mostly eggs
It feels like my last post was forever ago, especially since I’ve been living out of a backpack for the past two weeks in various Californian locations. More on that shortly. But first I want to note the fun Chicago meetups which happened before I left, especially dinner and drinks with Ellen and Emilie, having Marte and Alex over to play board games (even though we didn’t actually get round to playing any board games, but we did learn how competitive Marte would have been) and McKenna and Rusty’s ‘leaving’ party. I mean, they really are moving to Berlin, one assumes. They just haven’t actually left yet.
California stops
So, California! This was a three-part escapade which I have illustrated with this hastily labelled map:
1. Palo Alto
As you will know if you’ve been following along, this was for work. For our purposes, the most important thing is that I had my regular catch-up with Nolan, this time over fried chicken and waffles and beer. Also, the guy in the build-your-own-burger place learnt my name, which is a little worrying. I don’t come to California for the salads.
2. San Francisco
That relationship-building with Nolan in step #1 was critical, because for the weekend I borrowed his apartment in San Francisco while he was away. Kudos to his roommates for (a) being great and welcoming, (b) encouraging me to steal their baked goods, (c) not calling the police when they thought I was slowly breaking into the apartment, and (d) having an electric kettle.
Jonah and Julien!
While in SF (which, I must say, was a joy to walk around) I was lucky enough to hang out with not one but two cousin families. On Saturday night I had dinner downtown with Jamie, Paul and Lori before Jamie and I saw Weightless, a rock opera retelling of Procne and Philomela’s story from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Not being cultured enough to have read Ovid (sorry) I was not sure what to expect, but it was really, really good. We especially enjoyed the narration from an unidentified Greek god, and the music was engrossing enough that I was tempted to buy the CD afterwards despite not actually having any way to listen to a CD anymore. (Thankfully, there were other options.) It’s the kind of production which obviously takes years of work to put together, and if this ends up touring more widely, I recommend seeing it.
The night afterwards I hung out with Jonah, Staci, Julien and Desmond in their local Oakland kid-friendly sort-of-pub, which was really lovely and a great opportunity to plant the seeds of future travel in the minds of the next generation.
Dear Lori, Julien and Desmond: one day, the odds are that you’ll want travel to distant cities and countries. We’ll be ready and waiting with the free sofas to sleep on. Lots of love, your older cousins.
Finally, a grateful shout-out to the Mechanics’ Institute Library & Chess Room of San Francisco. For a mere $15, you provided a quiet place in the city to sit and read, and you were well worth it. I feel so old.
3. Yorba Linda
Finally, Randi joined me at her parents’ house in Yorba Linda for her mum’s 60th birthday and surprise party. My role in the surprise was minor and slightly embarrassing (I had to hide in the toilet so that we wouldn’t leave the house too early) but I was happy to play my part. Happy birthday!
We also escaped a bobcat. That’s two wild animals which haven’t killed us so far.
The hills are alive with the sound of… bobcats
“And that’s how I think I could have taken the bobcat out”
Happy birthday!
Last night, a miracle occurred in Dallas airport. Randi and I were having dinner before our flight home. It was Katie’s annual Chicken Caesar Salad Day, so I was providing the chicken and Randi was bringing the Caesar salad. I got up to find the loo, and ran into our server who pointed me down the airport corridor, “about 25 metres that way”. I thanked him and went on my way, and it took me a few steps to realise… metres? He said metres?
I asked him about it later, and he explained that he studies engineering and “thinks in metres” before suppressing a thinly-disguised shudder at the “other measurements”. This is encouraging. This is the spark of the future. If the metric system can infiltrate Texas, it’s only a matter of time before the US goes the whole 8.23 metres and converts.
If you recognise this road, you were really paying attention in GCSE History
We were in Dallas and the surrounding metroplex (the actual term) for Randi’s grandmother’s birthday and a mini family reunion. I already knew most people (although hello to the person who only knew me from this blog!) and it was especially fun to see the youngest cousins again. We stayed with Randi’s immediate family in Grapevine, a town with a cheerful and extensive main street which includes an impressively stocked ‘British Emporium’ for some reason, but we did briefly venture into Dallas proper to visit Dealey Plaza and the Sixth Floor Museum. This is the infamous ‘Texas School Book Depository’ from which JFK was shot, a tragedy which presumably could have been averted by arming school books with machine guns. (Back in Grapevine we passed a guy wearing an NRA baseball cap, and in my superhero fantasy I was able to confront him rather than tutting behind his back and donating to Everytown to make myself feel better. Take that, anonymous man!)
Pancake Day 2018
Earlier this month, it was Pancake Day! Unlike Chicken Caesar Salad Day I am no less than 100% committed to Pancake Day, as this video surely makes clear:
This level of coordination might explain why I slipped and fell on the ice in Chicago last week, gifting my thigh a giant ‘nebula purple’ bruise (©Katie Self) and giving me a great excuse to lie back on the sofa and watch the Winter Olympics. It has never really occurred to me to watch the Winter Olympics before, but at Randi’s urging I gave it a try, and aside from the ice dancing it was pretty great. This was also a good moment to see Icarus, an incredible documentary which we were lucky enough to watch in a cinema, by a filmmaker who stumbled into an amazing relationship with the lab director at the centre of the Russian doping scandal. I was dimly aware of the doping story, and had obviously noticed the Russian athletes competing under the ‘Olympic Athletes from Russia’ banner, but understanding the events which led to this moment was eye-opening. Highly recommended.
And when you’ve done that, you have to watch the three-part BBC series on IKEA, Flatpack Empire. It’s totally compelling, and it’s the type of cosy BBC2 programme I need more of in my life.
We saved the world
Also in the last fortnight: a traditional Valentine’s Day at La Scarola, a dipping of our toes into watching The Crown (I could be wrong and sometimes the origin of phrases can surprise you, but it felt very wrong to hear about Churchill on the “campaign trail”) and a winning game of the co-operative Pandemic with Toggolyn. Although it was touch and go in the end. If there’s a real global pandemic I don’t think we are the people to call.
Todd on 2024: My Year In Books: “I know what Glass Hotel is about. It’s about a bunch of loosely connected, barely developed characters, with their timelines…” Jan 4, 17:17
