We went downtown this evening to see the lights. Billions and billions of little twinkly lights.
“I don’t remember all these lights when I was a little kid,” I told CVH.
“That’s because they didn’t have all these lights when you were little. They didn’t have little white lights back then. All they had were the big ones that didn’t work very well.”
“That would explain it.”
We saw the big blue tree down by The Bean.
We stopped at the Palmer House. It’s the 150th anniversary for the hotel (and the hotel burning to the ground in The Great Fire); they had a nice selection of historical ephemera and memorabilia on display. There were photos of celebrities who played the Empire Room, and menus from Trader Vic’s, where I ate once as a small kid. It was a fabulous place for a little kid; not sure why such kitschy excess appealed to adults.
The hotel had a nice tree, complete with “150th Anniversary” ornaments:
All this holiday folderol put me in a generous mood, and I took CVH over to one of her favorite restaurants, Russian Tea Time.
The piroshkies! The blinchikis! It’s delicious.
On the way home we saw more twinkly lights, and the horns on Macy’s.
