A glimpse of The Arch, veal marsala at Charlie Gitto’s downtown, a morning run to Washington University, and KSHE on the radio. These were the highlights of our overnight stopover in St. Louis. Since the Marriott Grand only serves Pepsi products, I had to go to McDonald’s for my Diet Coke favorite. Five hours of driving later, we arrived at our Indiana destination for dinner with my wife’s mother.

 

Along the way, we saw the modern new Mississippi River bridge, known informally as the “Stan Span” after Cardinal great Stan Musial, Effingham’s Giant Cross, the familiar Indy skyline, Gas City whose name always makes me giggle, endless cornfields, and the remains of the elephant barn that once served as the winter headquarters for the Barnum & Bailey circus. We did some reminiscing about our time together in Indianapolis and Central Illinois. We’ll make a stop in Decatur, Illinois on the way back, following several Hoosier nights in Rochester, Kokomo, and Indy. “Wander Indiana” was once the poorly thought-out state tourism slogan that implied aimlessness. My wife’s valuable vacation time will be spent “wandering,” as she kindly attends to the needs of her 96-year old mother.

 

As my wife currently “wanders” along down the flat, rough Hoosier highways, I’m writing and monitoring a couple of baseball scores. We’ll finish this trip at Busch Stadium back in St. Louis, my reward for helping her cope between the Assisted Living facility to restaurants, medical centers, the cemetery, hairdressers, and her sister’s house. I will go home disappointed if the Cubs lose to the evil Cardinals, but will act like I didn’t really care if they do.

 

I will enjoy drinking excessive amounts of wine with my brother-in-law, meeting his first grandson who is also his namesake, and getting together with old friends throughout the week. It will of course be hot and humid, a good reminder not to bitch so much about the cool, cleansing Portland rain. Then again, what would I have to write about when in homebody mode? After all, I’ve used the words “rain” or “gray” in at least half of my blog posts to describe the days in Portland.