Greg Freeman: I Miss The Carefree Days When We Would Head To Chicago On A Whim

Headline: I MISS THE CAREFREE DAYS WHEN WE WOULD HEAD TO CHICAGO ON A WHIM - AND $20
Reporter: By Greg Freeman

Publication: ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Sun., Mar. 3, 2002
Section: METRO, Page: C3, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT

Youth and spontaneity
   When my wife and I were students at Washington University, we loved to spend our spare time at the movies.
   One Friday night, we went to a movie that finished around 10:30 p.m. "What do you want to do now?" I asked.
   "I don't know, " she said. "What do you want to do?"

After giving it very little thought, we decided to do what any college student would do in a similar situation: We decided to go to Chicago.
We knew very little about Chicago. But we knew how to get there, and Elizabeth's Volkswagen had a full tank of gas. On top of it, my mother was out of town! What better time to take such a trip?

We piled into the Beetle - nicknamed Udo by Elizabeth - and took off. It was about 1 a.m. when we left town, so we drove and talked all night. By morning, we were in Chicago. We admired the tall buildings, felt the hustle and bustle of the traffic and asked ourselves what we were going to do now.
Between us, we had maybe $20, so we paid McDonald's a visit for a couple of Egg McMuffins. Mmm, something about those Chicago Egg McMuffins.
For most of the day, we drove around Chicago, checking out the sights, at least those that were free. We checked out the city's many neighborhoods and oohed and ahhed at its skyscrapers.

By nightfall, we knew it was time to head back home.
Only one problem: We couldn't find the interstate. We drove around and around for a couple of hours, seemingly in one bad neighborhood after the next, neighborhoods where we didn't want to lower the window and say, "Hi! We're from out of town. Can you tell us where the interstate is?"
So we drove around a bit more and finally found it. We got on the interstate and headed home.

Or at least we thought we were headed home. Somewhere along the way, Udo had had enough. The car stopped. It was dark, and we saw nothing around us. We decided to sleep in the car that night and go for help in the morning.
When morning came, it was a different story. We were in the Springfield area, near the Illinois State Police, and I hiked over to the offices to ask for help. They gladly obliged, and we learned that the problem with the car was that it needed gas. We bought gas and headed back to St. Louis, an adventure under our belt.

When we were younger, we used to do lots of things that we don't do now that we're older and, presumably, wiser.
   Early in our marriage, we'd occasionally wake up in the middle of a weekend night.
   "I'm hungry, " Elizabeth would say.
   "I am too, " I'd reply, "but there's nothing good in the refrigerator. Wait, I know - let's go to Denny's."
   Denny's was perfect because it was open 24 hours. My wife and I would get dressed at 3 a.m. and head out for a grand slam breakfast.
   These days, a 3 a.m. "I'm hungry" cry is likely to be met with a "roll over and go back to sleep" response.

Other times, we would wait until the weather was bad - a snowstorm was coming or something - to head out to a local restaurant. Our reasoning, which almost never was wrong, was this: While every other St. Louisan is at the supermarket, stocking up on bread and milk in anticipation of what they must feel will be the Great Hibernation, we can have the restaurant to ourselves. No waiting in lines, no slow service because the waiters are so busy.

Of course, we'd probably never do any of those things now. I've joined the world of weather watchers ("Is it going to snow tomorrow? How much? What will the weather be on Thursday? Do we need to stock up on anything?").

Both of us are more practical now. While we can still be spontaneous, you can be fairly sure that we're not going to propose a trip to Chicago on a whim, drop everything and hop in our car.
Instead, we'll plan. We'll check out the road conditions by Internet, make hotel reservations, have the car checked out and make sure the tires have enough air, and take a Chicago street map with us.

I suppose youth and spontaneity go together. Still, I'd be lying if I were to say that I didn't miss the spontaneity.

Daniel Schesch - Webweaver

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