Davenport, IA

A Day In Iowa
It’s storming today. The wind is racing the rain to blow the hardest and as of yet there is no clear winner. Then, when the hail started it was all I could do to get my car on the next exit ramp and come to a stop. Luckily I had a thermos full of coffee and no reason to be anywhere anytime soon. After ten or fifteen minutes things calmed a little and I was able to get back on the road. For the next 15 miles I saw car after car spun off into the ditch and wondered at the fools who thought they could outdo Miss Nature. I felt bad for them, but mainly I was glad they got to learn their lessons without spinning their cars under oncoming 18-wheelers.

Right now I’m sitting at a rest stop just west of Iowa City and this seems to be a popular destination. My car is having some more weird issues with its operating temperature and even though I’m keeping it below the naughty-bad-blow-up-my-motor temp, I thought it might be wise to give her a few minutes to relax. Not to mention I’ve been neglecting my blog so I’m trying to assuage my guilt a bit by doing a little pitter-patting on the old keyboard. I never know what I will decide to post so mostly I just write what I feel like. Some comes out good, some bad and some is just plain gibberish. In case you were wondering I delete the bad, save the good for some future book and post the gibberish to my blog. Heh heh.

A quick review of my new favorite el cheapo motel chain: Exel Inns rock. A mere 7 bucks more than the Motel 6 next door, they all offer blazing fast wi-fi, clean rooms and the staff are always fantastic. They seem to know exactly what their guests will want. When I checked in the cute girl behind the counter told me exactly where I could park so I’d be able to look out the window and see my car. And when I asked where the closest liquor store was she didn’t miss a beat with perfect directions. Then later when I was drunk and calling the front desk to inform her of the party in my pants she was invited to, she didn’t even kick me out or call the cops. Heh heh, just kidding, the directions to the liquor store weren’t exactly perfect. The next morning when I checked out there was a different cute girl behind the counter who asked me four times if everything was alright. I told her everything was great, but that I missed her at my party the night before, heh, I am one witty fella.

Chicago, IL: The Sequel

I made it back up to the windy (foggy, chilly) city to see a couple old friends. I’d already been through once, but I wasn’t able to get a hold of anyone then so I’m glad I made the drive.

JS took me to play Whirlyball the first night I was there. Whirlyball is this wonderful game that’s sort of a cross between hockey, lacrosse and basketball played in bumper cars by drunk people. I have to say, at first I was sort of leery, then I was a little drunk, then I was having a great time. The bruises on my hips and shins will heal; the glory will live forever.

Other than that, I had one very drunken night (thanks JS, one of the best filets mignon I have ever had (thanks DK) and a museum/walking around downtown day (thanks me).

I like Chicago, its like New York but with a midwest feel to it. The people are friendlier and more open and although the layout of the streets is worse, what with all those diagonals, it is a little easier and a little cheaper to find parking.