After touring the Hallmark corporate offices with Alex, we hoofed it over to the National World War I Museum and Memorial. Unfortunately for us the tower at the Liberty Monument has been closed since March awaiting an elevator replacement. While I probably would have enjoyed touring the museum anyway—World War I, like the Boer War and the 2011 terrorist attacks in New York, marks one of those global “loss-of-innocence” moments that fascinate me—we decided that we’d save it for another trip when we could ride to the top of the tower. Apparently, it has a commanding view of the city and is worth the wait.
The next stop on our tour included a bit of a disappointment, too, but we got to see an enormous room filled with model train dioramas, so it was worth it. Kansas City’s Union Station underwent a major renovation and restoration not too long ago, and the building is beautiful. The main hall was closed for an event, but we were able to detour around the hall to see the model train setups.
It’s been very hot here the last few days. The themperature has been in the nineties, and the sun has been pretty brutal, even for me. After only a bit of walking, we were pooped and decided to make a pit stop at a hipster joint called Julep in the Westport area of downtown Kansas City. It’s kind of an artsy area—a little upscale, too—and we enjoyed it a lot. Alex gave us a very brief tour of the district after our drinks, and I was surprised to walk past Senator Claire McCaskill’s office tucked discreetly away in an unassuming storefront on a side street. Neat.
We made one final touristy stop on our way to meet Kristy for dinner. Atop a lonely hill overlooking the city stands Cyrus E. Dallin’s famous sculpture, Scout. It’s well positioned, and the hill and park that host it afford a great view of the city.
We felt like we really ought to have Kansas City barbecue while we’re here, so we narrowed our options to two: Jack Stack and Q39. Some debate erupted between our two groups of friends about which to choose. Gil and company felt that Jack Stack was hands-down the best barbecue in town, but Alex and Kristy were definitely partial to Q39. Jack Stack won out largely because of its location and where we were in the city, but Gil later conceded that his friends have now told him that Q39 is pretty great, too. I’m sure we would have been equally pleased with both.
We closed the evening having highly-crafted cocktails (or in my case, a mocktail) at a place called Manifesto. It’s in the basement of the Rieger Hotel, and apparently, it was once a speakeasy. According to Alex, a sign above one of the urinals claims that Al Capone once pissed there. Classy, eh? It was fun, though. It’s the kind of place that you really need a reservation to get in. We didn’t have one. Still, we decided to try, so we schlepped through a stinking alley to the nondescript door, rang the bell, and waited for the hostess to decide if she could accommodate us. Apparently, we didn’t look too threatening or controversial, so she let us have a table that was reserved for a group due to arrive in about 30 minutes. Sure enough, after about a half hour, our waitress very politely told us that they needed the table and that we should drink up. It’s just as well. I ordered a drink made with juniper, rosemary, lime, and tonic. It wasn’t bad, but the tastes—sharp and bitter and citrusy all at the same time—were a bit overwhelming. I only got through about 15 percent of it.
I’ll try to get caught up tomorrow with our brief visit to Leavenworth, our very pleasant late morning and early afternoon in Weston, and the long-awaited (and very hot) wedding.