Even when closer to death, Chicagoans are of a race devoted to life.
This (inexplicably?) reminds me of the bar counter at the Cape Cod Room in the Drake Hotel, upon which many names and initials have been carved. Among them, MM & JD. I sat next to it one night over oysters rockefeller and tri-layered chocolate cake. I was certainly overcompensating for something. I am firmly, firmly in the camp that the Drake is downtown Chicago's most beautiful living hotel, a fondness not superseded by stays at the Palmer House, the W, and the Hyatt Regency on Wacker (although the latter does win for best bar). And beauty, after all, is meant to attract beauty. And the hat trick of beautiful space, beautiful face, and beautiful lace (dressing gowns) means so much more in Chicago, where such a thing can be absent for many months, even years at a time, unlike Hollywood or Manhattan, where it is guaranteed most every night.
With that, gratuitous picture of one-half of the best initials carved into a Chicago bar:
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