We missed the train. The first part of our weekend in Chicago was ruined. The world began to crash down around us. The station didn’t have AC (it was hot, humid, and stuffy inside) and the next train wasn’t due for another 2 hours. Literally, forever, in this age of smartphones and twitter. The sandwich maker was beside herself and a sketchy looking dude was staring at us. It was a terrible start to some well needed “us” time.

During the last few days of July, Krissi left the kiddos with the grandparents, hopped on a plane, and arrived in the city known for being windy and getting shot. Before she arrived, the most time we had spent away from the kiddos was a day with an overnight stay. This trip gave us the opportunity to cut loose, be adventurous, get together with close friends and relax. I have a bunch of notes compiled from the weekend, but I am just going to stick to this one instance for now.

I’ve had to alter my approach to publishing my writing (touched on it with my last post). I used to translate my notes from my Bieber book straight to the computer. The last post I wrote was on my phone. It was a pain. So I decided to finalize my notes using a bigger notebook before I thumb away on my phone. School has been “school” so I took up a new hobby…GOLF (more on that at a later date). Enough about all that, let’s get back to the tragic events of missing our train.

After we spoke to the ticket attendant, we exited the station and walked down to the sidewalk. The wife was ranting about how everything was ruined and we should just call it. Just go back to the hotel. We had two hours to kill and no car to go anywhere (Uber would have been $175 to the city). We started walking. There happened to be a running/bike trail that ran parallel to the train track. At first we were going to walk a short distance and come back to the station. After checking the maps on our phones, we discovered that the next station was only a mile or so down the way. As we walked, we face timed the kiddos, dodged some bikers and I watered some plants (Krissi is a terrible lookout). As we approached the Lake Bluff station, we noticed a small farmers market and Krissi got excited. She is a sucker for a farmers market. We checked in at the station. There was not a ticket attendant. There were, however, instructions on how to download an app and purchase our tickets. We still had a hour and a half until the train arrived, so we made our way to the market. It was your typical hipster/basic white bitch vibe. There were vegetables, meats, cheeses, crafts and someone sharpening knives. There was a white gazebo, children playing in the grass, and a guy jamming on his guitar to a small audience. There were moms drinking wine out of tumblers, pushing their strollers. If we had been on our way back to the hotel, we probably would have grabbed some veggies to cook. After our walk perusing through the market, we began to check out the store fronts across the street. There were a couple restaurants, a bank and, wait for it, a brewery.

Lake Bluff Brewery is a sweet little spot. They had just finished renovating the tasting room and it was nice and comfortable. The only person inside was the bartender (they had just opened) and he was rocking to some classic country. We grabbed some seats at the bar and let the conversation fly. We talked beer, adventure and music. The bartender happened to be the manager. He also worked at another brewery, helped brew the beer, and runs his own concert photography/blog website. Our future adventure to Japan came up. He had just returned from a concert tour in Japan. He told us it was one of the raddest experiences of his life, and he couldn’t wait to go back. The only music in the whole joint was played on vinyl and the coasters were made from retired records. We traded artists to check out (he was already a fan of Townes Van Zandt), and talked trash about new age country. It is the worst. I had the Black Squirrel Bourbon Stout. It was delicious. I forgot what the wife had, but it’s not important. We finished our beers, paid our tab and said goodbye. We had 15 minutes before our train arrived and we weren’t going to miss it this time. We boarded and took our seats. This gave me the perfect opportunity to take a nap. I woke up at our destination ready to rock and roll.

Plans and expectations. We all have them and do our best (or not) to make them happen. Our plan was almost derailed (pun intended) because we missed the train. What happened afterwords was an unexpected find and a new connection with someone. We also discovered a rad little spot to grab a beer close to the hotel. We turned our misery into something spontaneous and fun. When it comes to spending time with your loved ones, plans are cool, but you may want to throw them out of the window to make some rad memories. If you expect things to go a certain way, and they don’t, you can either get frustrated and stew about it or adapt and overcome. So, maybe missing the train every once and a while, could turn out to be a cool little adventure.

Also, check out this website run by the bartender from the brewery. Enjoy!
http://www.patothornycroftphoto.com/

Do work, be rad

Mustache