When I was (20)17, it was a Very Good Year

Peter in the Chiricahuas

In 2017 I enjoyed several firsts. I spent April in Paris, saw Amsterdam, luxuriated in Bar Harbor,  sat down for a chat with John Waters,  and stayed at the Arizona Inn in all its holiday splendor.

John Waters signing my purse, Tucson Rialto Theater

In the fall I found that I had traveled to a place called workaholism. It’s not a bad place, especially if you like what you are doing. But once there you can’t go anywhere else. Or I couldn’t.  So Margo on the Go reportage experienced a brief shutdown. 

So, just to catch up.

Chicago 

Downtown Chicago

What a great city. All muscular and manly and big shoulder-y and broad.  I wonder how many hands tall Trump Tower is?

Dinner at Rosebud on Rush, very old school Italian, tables for 14 are the norm and tables for two are a rarity. Portion sizes from the distant past, a gentler time when we were unaware that pasta was a "carb," and when we could blithely enjoy large portions of bread and butter as an appetizer. 

 Second City

Deep dish pizza, meh. Too much crust. I prefer the flour tortilla type of crust. Why did I even entertain the thought that I would like it? Because I was in Chicago, that’s why. The natives insisted that we try their favorite restaurant for deep dish pizza. There was debate about which one, but we chose Giordano's.

Running is extraordinary in Chicago, the lakefront is designed with runners in mind. There are real bathrooms  and real runners and water fountains and major pedestrian walkways to get you safely across Lakeshore Drive. And the lake with its infinite horizon is not bad either.

Chicago Run

New York, New York

My friend had a big birthday and wisely decided to invite me to New York to celebrate with her. We saw Hamilton. Yes it is as good as the hype. We happened to be there on the day of the Gay Pride Parade. People watching at its best.

Gay Pride Week

Lunch at Untitled at the Whitney

Hartford

My adorbs niece Julia graduated from high school and I was there for the merriment.

Julia, Julia

Chesapeake Bay Regency Hyatt

So close and yet so far. It's only two hours from Bethesda, and after a bridge or two you are transported to a different world. Nice even in the deep midwinter.

Bay and bridge

The Arizona Inn

Arizona Inn as center of the world

It’s where I had drinks with Billy Wilder and dinner with Imelda Marcos. It’s where I walked down the aisle, and said vows and got married at the fountain. It’s where we held my father’s memorial service.

The "altar"

It’s the stately, grand, charming, subdued, Pepto-Bismol colored Arizona Inn. 

Dense with fragrance

Our junior suite had been upgraded, and it was the largest space I have ever enjoyed in a hotel.  Two huge rooms, a living room with armoire, a proper desk, couches and chairs, a veritable dance floor of space, and a wet bar. Huge high ceilings, a walk-in closet. A spacious bedroom with two chaises longues. A private patio for taking the readily available sun. 

And the walkways, the immaculate gardening, the citrus trees, the fragrance of perfume from the flowerbeds. A riot of Technicolor bathed in the desert sun. Clay tennis courts, croquet, an elegant pool with a bathhouse.

Morning run-University of Arizona

It seems to be completely isolated and yet you are in the very center of Tucson. North to the mountains, south to the Mexican food,  East to the exquisite sunrise and Sabino Canyon and West to mind-boggling sunsets, Gates Pass and the Desert Museum.  Tucson is laid out just like a compass. It’s a place I never get lost.

People have been coming to the oasis of the Arizona Inn since 1930.  It's as nice a resort as any I’ve stayed in. So old fashioned, so much Northeast comfort in a distinctly Southwest setting. The library looks like it could be in Boston. You can browse the Social Register and the complete works of Moliere and Thackeray and then break the spell by looking out the window at cacti and the Catalina mountain range.

Last April in Paris

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