We went to what was called the eagles nest a former artist colony where Chicago eccentrics escaped the summer city heat a century ago. One of them had the dream to construct a statue of an unnamed native American looking out from a 250 ft bluff over the river valley to remember what once was.
We drove to Rockford and got an oil change. Later we got back to Chicago and I stopped at Phil’s last stand for the new burger filled with cheese and caramelized onions. Phil himself was in his truck outside the restaurant, snoozing in the drivers seat in the sun. I took one bite and the ooey gooey shot all over my pants.
Gross. Come on 3rdarm.