Sis, Mom and I visited Milwaukee and took a day trip down to Chicago. After visiting Millenium Park and the Art Institute we watched the Astros stage an unlikely late–inning comeback to defeat the nefarious Cubs.

On the way back to Milwaukee I fulfilled my dream of visiting White Castle. I've wanted to go ever since the Beastie Boys name–checked it three times on the Licensed to Ill album in 1986. I remember mowing lawns, listening to that cassette on my Walkman and thinking, "Self, what in the world is White Castle?" We didn't have them in Texas and the Internets weren't around, either. Later in life, I saw many White Castle joints on my travels but I never got around to visiting one. Then, in 2004, Harold and Kumar convinced me that the kids at White Castle must be doing something right.

I'm sad to report that a dream died that day somewhere beside Interstate 94. Even with a belly full of beer and the sweet taste of victory lingering from Wrigley Field, White Castle was a bust in every way. I'm completely sincere when I say it was the worst "hamburger" I have ever tasted. Sissy had the camera ready to document my dismay.

Back in Milwaukee, we toured the city and enjoyed some fine dining at Bartolatta's Lake Park Bistro. We adjourned to a remarkable coffee shop in a converted pumping station called Alterra before passing through the Recombobulation Area and returning home.