Chicago was delightful. We drove to Boston for the flight, landed at O'Hare without incident or turbulence, and rented a car. We drove directly from the airport to Louisa's for a taste of the best pizza the universe has to offer, and then went back to my parents' house, stopping off on the way for some delicious high-gravity beer. The next morning I drove over to the Italian bakery, parents' dog in tow, and got some cannoli.
The On Wednesday we went to visit our friends T and D. T and I have known each other since we were six, and I have known D since I was twelve. I introduced them at some point in high school, and I consider their eventual marriage one of my better accomplishments. Anyway, they have a boy who is almost two and a five-week-old daughter. They are exhausted and their kids are adorable, and we spent some time catching up and snapping pictures and then headed out much too soon so everybody could get baths and get to bed.
Thursday I took a ride on a four-seater plane with my mom. The forecast said seventeen mph winds, which doesn't sound like much, especially for Chicago, unless you are in what essentially amounts to a smart car with wings. It was really fun and totally hilarious. My mom was asking the pilot a lot of personal questions and then not very subtly talking about my sister, who is single and would be going on the flight following ours with my dad.

"You used to be in construction? My daughter is in construction. You'll be meeting her after we're done. She works for..."

I have no idea when my mother became that woman, but I was highly amused, and I think the pilot was too. He was even more amused when, upon turning east and heading toward the skyline, we hit an air pocket, the plane dropped several feet in a split second, and my mom blurted out
"Oh fuck!"

I took a lot of pictures, and there was a lot of swearing and nervous laughter. It was terrific.
As we crossed the runway, walking back to the tiny office. The wind kicked up. We opened the door, smiling at my dad and sister.

"How was it?"

"Beautiful," we said in unison. There was no mention of the turbulence or the white knuckles. We smirked at each other as they walked out into the gale.


Thursday night we went to T's, ordered pizza, drank some delicious Edmund Fitzgerald Porter, and spent several hours catching up.
Friday we had dinner at The Publican with T and R and A, followed by a beer run and some time spent at R and A's place. They are climbing Mount Kilimanjaro next month, which is neither here nor there but something that I find totally amazing and worth mentioning. The last trip they took was to India. R and T and I were roommates back in the proverbial day. Come to think of it, I can't believe none of those stories ever came up here, because they seem to come up every time I see those guys... anyway, we had a great visit. The b.h. and I remain convinced that we will eventually live in Chicago someday.
Saturday was the party celebrating my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We threw them a party at an event hall near their house, with most of our family and many of their friends who have known them throughout their whole marriage. It was really terrific to see everyone. Many of my cousins I haven't seen in years, and even then it was only at funerals. I may have mentioned this before- for the first five years that the b.h. and I were together, we came home every Christmas and somebody in my family died. Seriously. Five years in a row, a wake and a funeral at Christmas. My mom started joking that the b.h. was going to have to stay in Georgia for the holidays or people were going to start getting resentful.
Anyway, the party was fabulous. My folks look and feel great, and as far as I can tell have never been happier. Everyone remarked about it. It felt good to be home.