Kansas City

Hanging out with my father at a delightfully quirky bed and breakfast in the Kansas City area. We’re here to visit my grandmother, who had just been reading some Elizabeth Browning poems when we arrived. At 94, she’s as sharp as a chess grandmaster and nearly as alert.

My grandparents relocated from Iowa to Kansas City in 1985, so regular trips down here have been a family staple ever since, though we’d had no previous connection with the place before then. Kansas City has its strong points. If you like Asian art, for instance, the Nelson-Atkins Museum has a superb collection, its air-conditioned upper-floor chambers a revelation on a hot summer day. I stumbled across the collection accidentally one day as a high school senior, and was lost for hours amidst all those works.

They also have a Henry Moore sculpture garden, but the really fun thing was when that garden was under construction. You’d drive by in the evening and see three Henry Moores next to a couple of bulldozers left there for the night, and maybe a pile of dirt.

Another nice thing to visit in Kansas City is the grave of Charlie “Bird” Parker, probably the greatest jazz improviser of all time. That’s less than a mile from where I’m sitting right now.