Ah yes, a wintry morning full of white powdery snow and 30 something degrees over breakfast. Seems fitting for a ride on the slopes of the Rockies. Or a nice snuggle by the fireplace with a blanket and some hot cocoa? Except, we're in the flatonia burbs of Mt. Prospect, IL.
And it's friggin' April!
Casual snowy morning aside, most of us leisured about the day (Pops in mobile business mode) but made sure to cram in all things Chicago-style in addition to a run to the LEGO store—when Oma gives a great grand-kid money and tells them to go the the LEGO store, they go to the LEGO store. In the snow.
Over lunch, we opted for the requisite Chicago-style dogs from Portillos. Personally, as a graphic designer, the brand is all over the place and not memorable, but the dogs are guaranteed good. Then waited for the pies over an epic Ruegs debate at the dining room table for dinner.
Ruegs debate dining
Ruegs debate dinners stretch decades, pre great grand-kids, pre grand-kids likely. They're full of emotions and drink. Gray, black, white. Spectator or participant. Agree or disagree. Not unlike the Vegas slogan: What's said at the dinner table, stays at dinner table. Most of the time. At the end, one is left thinking either the family is bonkers or wildly entertaining. In the face of all the other family dichotomy options, it's pretty freaking cool to be a part of. I don't remember the discussions when my Grandfather was around, but I do remember his beige attire and black socks sitting at the head of the table with his glass of wine going on about things. Important things. And we listened. We always listened. Now his three sons and Oma maintain the debate scene and the next generation has a seat at the table which includes me. The kids still fulfill the occasional flyby for specific requests of sugar-coated fuel and such.
And now for something not so completely different...
From a—well, not an outsider's perspective—but from someone not around the Ruegsegger household during the Reagan administration, these dinner debates are admirable, yet completely foreign. Coming from a family whose main raison d'etre is based on not questioning anything, participating in these Mount Prospect discussions is quite the experience. Of course, the not-so-crappy wine helps.
Not one to like preaching—from either side (Charlie, I'm looking at you)—2016's an especially bad year to get involved in any sort of political discussion. While regretfully missing the Ruegs Debate Dining (pizza...cough...cough...), I did manage a great night out in Chicago seeing the David Gilmour concert at the United Center.
The pizza
Lou Malnati's. The Dominos of Chicago-style pizza I'm guessing but still so incredibly good—especially coming from Texas where the specialty is Tex Mex. Dare you to not think of what Uncle Charlie calls "dog food and glue" while eating a sausage and cheese deep dish.
