I am attending the American Federation of Teachers National Convention at Navy Pier in Chicago this weekend. But you will not find “Mitch Gann” in the official list of delegates. I am attending under an assumed name.
Do not tell the AFT. It lacks a sense of humor.
My posts are being written in long hand on whatever paper is available. They will appear late. Or not at all if I lose the scraps.
The train arrived at Union Station an hour and fifteen minutes late. Not bad. I like the romance of train travel. Plus, it’s only a five buck cab ride to most downtown hotels, depending on what route the driver takes, which hotel you are going to, and how much traffic there is. Also, whether or not the city has authorized a gas price surcharge on all cab fares, which it has — one dollar. Still, it’s a shorter and cheaper ride than the ride in from O’Hare, which is a flat $22.
When we got in the cab, I gave the name of the hotel and its address. This prompted the cabbie to say, “Oh, sir, are you a professor of hotels?”
Travel tip: always buckle your seat-belt in a big city taxi-cab.
A jack-hammer was busting up the sidewalk outside the entrance of our hotel. This is seldom a good sign, but our room is on the far side of the building and we hear nothing. For security reasons, I won’t mention the name of the hotel. Nor the real name of my traveling companion. Call her Amelia. She wants a gold fish for the room. The front-desk is sending one up.
I am off to Navy Pier.
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