Benny Jay: My Old Man

I go to lunch with my old man.

He takes me to The Berghoff, the old German restaurant at 17 W. Adams Street in the Loop.

It’s always been one of his favorite places to eat. He used to take the train downtown all the time. Shop in the little stores under the el on Wabash. Buy himself some socks. Eat at The Berghoff. Check out the Art Institute. Buy a bunch of post cards in the gift shop. Take the train home in the late afternoon. A great way to spend a day….

But it’s harder for him to come downtown. The long walk up and down the subway stairs is tough on the knees. We’re all getting older — he’s not alone.

He orders his favorite sandwich: Corned beef on rye. Keeps telling the waitress he shouldn’t. Too salty. Got to watch that salt. Don’t tell me my wife….

That’s a good one. Makes me laugh. First of all, the waitress is a stranger – she doesn’t know his wife. Second of all, if you know my mother, you’ll know her first question when he gets home will be the same question she asks after any meal: What did you eat?

He only eats half the sandwich. Gives the other half to me. Bring it home, he says. Give it to your daughters. I know how much they love corned beef.

Afterward we have a cup coffee and split some chocolate mousse. Man, it’s good — too rich to be true.  We only eat half of it. He tells me to take that home as well.

We started talking about this and that and wind up talking about an heart-valve operation someone very close to us will be having. He tells me all about the heart and how it works. Never knew he knew so much about the heart. But that’s my old man — the stuff he knows will amaze you. The key, I learned long ago, is retention. Tell him something once and he knows it for life.  I’ve never been so good at retention. But that’s okay, cause I’m good at other things….

We sit and talk for a couple of hours. The waitress fills our coffee cups two or three times.  Other diners leave — we’re just about the only ones left.

Next thing you know it’s after three. Better get going. If we don’t leave now, we’ll get caught in rush-hour traffic and we won’t get a seat on the train.

We bundle up in our coats and say good bye at the front door.  Gotta do this more often. Never did it enough. Let’s hope we get the chance to do it again….

He heads east and I head west.

At some point I look back and I see him walking away. He’s moving slow. Not like he used to.  He used to walk a lot faster back in the day.

If you saw him walking east on Adams, you’d think it’s just some old guy walking with a cane.

You wouldn’t know that it’s my old man….

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