They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’ birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But the air’s so apetizen’ and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airy autum days
Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the foder’s in the shock.
— James Whitcomb Riley
This is going to be a “rambling” par excellence. As I wrote last week, my Hoosier Octobers have enriched my existence. Dan Kendall sent me the text of Riley’s poem that reminds him of his youth on an Indiana farm. Riley is probably considered a minor, rustic poet these days, but in his time he was the most popular and highly paid writer in America because he had the gift of tapping into people’s feelings and their nostalgia. Some of his poetry, unlike the “homespun” stuff, is very sophisticated and elegant.
“It was the best of times;
it was the worst of times.”
— Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
“Tell me a story!” I often said to Mother or old Granny who were both wonderful story tellers who filled my mind with images and excitement. I never tired of their oft-told tales of the olden days, funny events and quirky relatives.
If you want to hear an exciting story told by a master storyteller, you should see “An Iliad” at the Indiana Repertory Theater. A one-man show, it is one of the best, most expressive performances that I’ve ever seen on stage or screen. Everyone knows the story of Trojan war that lasted for nine years, but this enactment brings new depth, understanding and excitement to it. Betsy Bernstein, wife of Alan the Caterer and a former Irvington resident, produced wonderful lighting effects that enhanced the action. Do go — you’ll be glad you did!
Our minds permit us to visit simultaneously more than one time zone. In present time, we create the stuff of future reminiscence and simultaneously connect the dots to past experiences. Since we were going to be in Chicago anyway, we decided to that our golden anniversary gift to each other would be a special dinner — no expense spared. I sent an e-mail to our friend, Leslie Bady, who is a native Chicagoan. She recommended the Signature Room on the 95th floor of the John Hancock building. The elevator whisked us up so rapidly that my ears popped.
We were lucky enough to get a table next to a window from which we had a marvelous view of Lake Michigan, the Navy Pier and the city as the lights came on. We toasted each other and then leisurely perused the menu. I had a very good Beef Wellington, and Bill feasted on rack of lamb that he pronounced absolutely wonderful.
One’s companion/best friend, a lovely ambiance, excellent food and drink — albeit pricey! Our frugal mothers would have been horrified. However, many people spend as much or more on tickets to sporting events, the 500, or theater seats. We balanced the splurge on dinner by staying at a less expensive hotel.
Sometimes we reminisce about memorable meals and hotels that ran the gamut from the sublime to the horrible. We stayed this time at the Club Quarters on Wacker Dr. across the river from the Trump Tower where rooms cost over $400 per night. The room was immaculate, comfortable and very small. At least the bathroom wasn’t as small as that of one of the hotels where we stayed in Paris where you had to sit sideways or dangle your legs in the tub! More to come. wclarke@comcast.net