I have a friend who lives about forty miles away.  I suspect her place is as close to the Wisconsin border as it is to Chicago’s Gold Coast.  I’ve lobbied for her to move closer in to the city, but moving any time soon is not on her radar.

I’ll check in with her by phone from time to time and try to see when her interior design business might give her a reason to go to the (Merchandise) Mart. Then I will try to piggyback a date for lunch or drinks on to her in town schedule.

She’s been doing extra family duty lately, driving two hours one-way twice a week to visit her elderly parents and help them manage their household. Since I’ve been very conscious of the road miles she’s been driving lately and thought we could both use some social time, I decided I would try to come up with a place that would be halfway between Chicago and Libertyville so we could meet for a light supper and a cocktail.

We’ve met at malls and movie theaters in between our homes before, and we’ve met in tony Highland Park for duck tacos once, but I wanted to come up with a place that was not part of a characterless suburban shopping center or an expensive winery where first wives’ clubs meet.

I Googled a map that showed the towns dotted along I-94 and made a couple suggestions. We had been to one before so we focused on the spot we were not familiar with.  We looked at their menu and saw that their prices were reasonable. “Do they have outdoor seating?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s try it.”

The Landmark, it turned out, was located on a main street in an old part of a town that has many subdivisions. It’s within a train whistle’s bellow of the commuter station. As it was after 6:00, free street parking was easy to find. I remembered liking the look of the building as soon as I spotted the sign. It had a wooden façade and side deck and an odd sort of balcony that had no obvious way to access. Even at first glance, it spoke of its past lives as Otto Funke’s Saloon and the Cypress Inn, the monikers it operated under before it became The Landmark. The building had been around, in some form, since 1885.

As I was about to walk in, my friend called me on my cell. “I just got here,” she announced. “Meet me on the deck,” she instructed.

I caught up with her at the back end of the deck. We were both smiling. The place was, indeed, pretty much halfway between our homes. Parking was easy and menu prices would not be sending us to the nearest Cash Station. There were TVs outside, I assumed ready to glow with images of nighttime baseball. There was an old bar inside, maybe mahogany, running almost the entire length of the place. It had probably seen a lot of beer spilled in its time.

Nina looked happy. She was in casual attire, wearing different patterned layers on top, well-fitting jeans and sporting some chunky jewelry. (An occupational hazard of a designer, I don’t think she can leave her house without looking very put together.) Our waitress introduced herself quickly after we sat ourselves. The Landmark had a nice vibe.

It was good for both of us, I think, to try something new. When I’m trying something new, everything is a little bit of a surprise, so I have to look at things fresh. There are so many aspects of the experience that I can opinionate on, and I like to form preferences and exercise choices. And, when all is said and done, a new place is all about the vibe and trusting your intuition, and it always seems good to have that reinforced.

I thought about the idea of meeting someone halfway. Of course, this is about more than distance or geography. Meeting someone halfway is always a new experience, unchartered territory. It also requires forming opinions on what would work for you and the other person. It requires being clear about what’s on your mind and thinking about what might be agreeable to everyone concerned. It’s also about intuition and trusting the vibe. You have to stay connected with the scope of your relationship and your intention for the situation.

Meeting someone halfway might take you to a tavern by a train station, or to a new agreement or understanding. Thinking of halfway as a good meeting place is no small thing.