It’s been a long week and I have sorely been lacking of a new post.  My apologies. 

I’ve been running around like a mad woman, it seems.  Monday night I played an open mic in DeKalb which was both invigorating and nerve wracking all at once.  The worst part about open mic’s is sitting there waiting for your turn to come.  Listening to the mixed bag of crap and excellence was a bit painful.  I have total respect for people who willingly go to these things (non-performers).  Ya never know what you’re gonna hear.  There were bajos, mouth harps, bassists, and a comedian (god bless this guy who tried so fucking hard but never once got a decent laugh out of the crowd).  I meekly announced that I had just returned from Iraq when I climbed up to the stage.  I’m not sure that people knew how to react.  Should they clap?  Should they boo?  Should they throw the business cards of their psychologists on stage?

The rest of the week went as follows:
Party
Write
Shop
Play Checkers
Drive, Shop, Party

And then we come to Sunday.  Game Day.  Chicago Bears football baby!!

My Uncle scored some sweet tickets to the Sunday Bears game vs. Miami.  I had been looking forward to this for weeks now.  Mind you I’m a fanatical Bears fan; a screaming, swearing, throwing-things-at-the-T.V. sort of Bears fan.  (Hey, what can I say?  My Dad raised me right.)  I had never been to Soldier Field in Chicago nor had I seen a pro-football game live before.  So you can understand how much it meant to me.

During the drive to the game my Uncle (god I love this guy) explains to me how he has all these “connections”.  Just like my Dad, he is exactly what you’d imagine a Chicago guy to be.  Mr. Chicago.  The accent… the connections… the uncanny sense of direction in a city where every other street looks the same.  He gets a call on his cell which he puts on speaker phone. (A new law in Chicago won’t let drivers talk on their cellphones unless it’s hands free.)  My Uncle is talking to one of his “connections” who’s gonna give us free parking for the game.  The conversation went something like this:

(imagine the dialogue in a Chicago accent.  Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

Guy on Phone:  “Hey bud.”
Uncle:  “Joe.  Listen.  What’s the deal with parking?”
Joe:  “Alright.  Now, yer gonna go behind 18th street.  There’s gonna be a copper.  He’ll have a list.  You tell him Joe sent you.”
Uncle:  “So I see this copper with a list.  And I tell him Joe sent me?”
Joe:  “Right.  But your name might not be on the list yet.  Cause, ya know, people tend to drag their asses for things like this.  So, you tell the copper that Phil Jordan is supposed to put your name on the list and Joe sent you.”
Uncle:  “Is it gonna be a personal parking spot or a lot?”
Joe:  “How the hell do I know?  I just made the phone call.”
Uncle:  “Ok Joe.  Thanks.”

It was very “bing bang boom”… dripping with machismo.   I turned to my Uncle and said, “Oh geez..  I’ve gotta write about that!”

We made it into the stadium with at least an hour before the game even started.  Amazing seats!!  At $300 a pop (no worries.  They were donated by Comed.  I would consider it another “Uncle connection”.)  they were almost worth the money.  We were right on the 40 yard line on the 2nd tier and were able to make calls before the ref’s had time to throw their flags out. 

(I took these pics on my cell phone, so they’re a little crappy.)

Bear's Game View

 

 

Can you see the Sear’s Tower sticking up past the stadium here??  It was gorgeous and amazing and a lot of fun.  Even though the jerks lost the stinkin’ game.  The Bears were 7-0 up to this point.  They lose the first game of their season and I had the pleasure of seeing it.  meh.  Either way, it was fantastic.

On the way home, Mr. Chicago (aka the Uncle) takes me to a little food stand that sells pork chops (with bone!) on a bun.  Let me repeat that….  A pork chop on a bun.  I’ve got a lot of guts for a lot things but not enough for a pork chop on a bun.  I wussed out and got a burger instead. 

 

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