Barrington Road

How surprised were we when we pulled into our hotel just outside Chicago at a little after 11:30 to find the reception area packed and a line out the door to check in? Upon further investigation, we found that all the other guests were of Indian descent, many of them dressed in traditional clothing. A quick internet search revealed that we were in a suburb known for its Indian community.

The clerk, too, was a gray-haired Indian guy. “Sorry about the wait,” he apologized when it was finally my turn to check in.

“I had no idea you would be so busy this late!” I said.

“There’s a big wedding and—” he shrugged and swept his arm around the lobby and to the door where 8 more guests were pulling suitcases in. I saw a tall stack of numbered envelopes behind the desk just like the one he handed me with our key cards. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Mismanagement

Heidi had several medical appointments today, and round one was blood work in the lab. It’s a take-a-number system: a little bell rings when the number changes and you show yourself back through the heavy wooden door. As such, the reception window is vacant, but it still offers a portal into the collection sites.

Shortly after we sat down, a high pitched scream pierced the waiting room. What followed was ten excruciating minutes where everyone in the chairs squirmed as a little child hysterically resisted a blood draw. The numbers stopped changing completely as all the lab techs and her grandmother tried to manage the meltdown, and it was heartbreaking to hear her panic rise as well as frustrating to listen to the adults’ misguided approaches to the situation.

At long last we heard the sing-songy voice of a man croon, "You're all finished!" followed by a loud sniff and then silence punctuated quickly by the return of the bell signaling another patient to go back. But all eyes were on the door when it slowly opened from the inside and a little girl in pink trudged out trailed by a stooped woman with gray hair.

"Now I'm afraid to go back there!" one woman told the child in an attempt to leaven the room, but the little girl just wiped a tear and ran down the hallway toward the exit.

No Worry No Cry

We were the only ones at the pool this evening when a quick little cloud burst rolled through. It was obvious that the storm wouldn't last: patches of blue sky and sunshine were visible just over the treetops to the west. Still, the downpour was heavy for a minute or two, and when I looked up to check the sky, the raindrops were individually catching the sun and creating a swirling cloud of sparkling confetti. Mesmerized, I called to Heidi, and then magically, as we swam through the glitter, a double rainbow appeared in the eastern sky.

That's my kind of rain!

All Part of the Game

We bought new soft-sided pet carriers to transport Milo and Tibby to the vet, or where ever else they might like to go that is not accessible by stroller. Their appointment was this morning, so yesterday I put the carriers out to make them a bit more familiar.

Oh my! Tibby was in and out of those cases several time in the first 10 minutes or so. She claimed them as her personal space immediately. Milo? Was not so sure. He sniffed them and observed Tibby's antics from across the room. But when I threw a few morsels of food in there, that guy was in! In fact the carriers were like a little playground last night as the cats dashed in and out and Lucy got her big nose into them, too.

The cats weren't so sure about leaving the house today, but I put them in the backseat so that they could see each other, and when all was said and done, the trip to the vet was a big adventure, and the carriers are just fun little contraptions to hide in.

It Only Seems Fair

It didn’t really seem fair that Heidi was literally having a stress test as I enjoyed my relaxing spa facial that my mom gave me for my birthday, so on my way out, I scheduled a treatment for Heidi to enjoy before we head out on our next road trip.

She’s a darn good wife, after all. 

There's No Doubt about It

When, as a type 1 diabetic, Heidi has a low blood sugar, her remedy of choice is lemonade, preferably? Minute Maid. During the day, at home, cans work nicely; at night juice boxes make the most sense since they are single-serve and can be stored under the bed. And when traveling, bottles are best since they can be opened and closed as many times as necessary without worrying about spills.

Today we were running errands, and it just so happened that we needed all of those. Oh, and did I mention that Heidi's beverage of choice these days is a very potent version of lemon water? So lemons were on the grocery list as well.

As we wheeled our cart toward the checkout, I looked at its contents with an objective eye. "We. have. all. the. lemons!" I laughed diabolically.

Heidi was more philosophical. "Think of all the weird stuff people must buy here," she mused. "You know they have to train the cashiers not to react!"

Sure enough, our lemonade bonanza was scanned and paid for without comment

He's Still Standing

We saw Rocketman today. The fanciful musical biopic of Elton John made me look at his music so differently. It seems impossible that all those songs could have been so autobiographical, especially since the lyrics were written by Bernie Taupin, but... there it was.

After the closing credits we stood in the lobby and chatted with our friends about the movie. "Wow! You really seem to know a lot about Elton John!" someone told me as I was able to plug a few of the gaps she saw in the narrative.

I shrugged. I guess it's true, and it's probably because not only was I alive at the time and recall many of the events, but also because like Bohemian Rhapsody, this film told the story of a person not that much older than I am who nearly ruined himself because his sexuality was considered unacceptable by a society I remember well.

Watching John's struggle was painful, but the underlying anachronism of those times was meant to show how far we have come in the last 50 years. I suppose there is consolation in that.