Wrigleyvillage
When it comes to Wrigley Field lots of people talk about how great it is to see a ballgame smack in the middle of a vibrant neighborhood. Not as many talk about what this means for the neighbors. It is of course a boon to the merchants and businesses in very close proximity to the field, but the neighborhood also serves as the stadium’s parking lot (the only one, really) and as a mile-square urinal for the ocean of over-served fans who spill out at game’s end.
The Cubs have in recent years made a special effort to win the good will of the people who live in the community, specifically the area known as Lakeview. This includes spiffing up local parks, appearances of hall of fame players in the area, and free bike lock-up for games. But the coolest perk has to be Wrigleyville Neighbors Day. Each year the Cubs hold a lottery for residents in Lakeview to come to the park for 90 minutes of free food and drinks (alcohol too) and to play catch, picnic, or just lounge on the field. We’ve lost out the last two years but got it this year. One person per address plus guest. I took my son.
We were close to the front of the line of about 100 people so when we entered the field from the service door in the outfield it was like the park was ours alone. We ran out onto the grass with our mitts, one five-year-old boy and his five-year-old father. At first we just ran around because we could. We played catch. We ran the bases (four times) and just lounged in the outfield. It was extraordinary. A wonderful, memorable way to spend an afternoon. Thanks, Cubs. Well done.
Travelogue
Just a short note to let readers know that there’s a new site section ready in advance of my trip to Italy this summer. Actually it is just a dressed up category archive, but well-dressed I must say. The Return to Barile subsite will collect all my posts on the homecoming (and there are many already queued). It also includes some background on the whole thing, an interactive map, and links to photos and such. These extras of course are only available on the site. Sorry, feedreaders! Obviously it will fill up quite a bit more as the trip nears and proceeds.
Enjoy: Return to Barile.
29 bulbs
Today was the first day in months that my calendar had not a single colored box on it. Nothing. Zip. Not a single thing to do. A good thing, too, since I got home at 4:30 this morning after a day I wasn’t sure I would live through.
Start with a friend’s annual Kentucky Derby party early in the afternoon, add a Cubs home win (.500 baby!), season with Cinco de Mayo cheer and a frozen margarita machine, then cap off with a concert that started at 1 AM at the Metro. (Amon Tobin. Mixed live in 5.1 surround. Sick sick beats. My mouth was agape half the show.)
So needless to say I woke late, way late. Had lunch with my saintly wife and the three kids who she mercifully steered clear of me. (Mercy for them, I am sure. I was no role model.) Then, of course, nap time for all. So, essentially my day began at 3:30 PM today. And then I started to feel guilty about wasting a completely open day. You know, the guilt of a thousand to do’s paired with an empty calendar.
Why not enjoy the free day, you say? Well, I did an inventory of home tasks and here’s what the list read:
Rear screen door is permanently locked from a particularly hard wind-slam. We’ve removed the glass pane for exit, but my kids have biffed over the door frame so many times that it seems parentally negligent not to remove the whole thing from the threshold.
Grill on the deck is rotting from the inside-out. Not that we didn’t cook dinner on it tonight, but it is a serious fire hazard. Basically it is no longer a grill. It is a open gas line where one may prop foodstuffs upon several layers of carbonized former foods for cooking.
Car with expired temporary tags and plates that simply need to be affixed. You’d think I would have gotten to this after the latest ticket. Sigh.
But here’s the kicker. There are 29 burnt-out lights in this house. Yes, 29. Can bulbs, regular bulbs, vanity bulbs, chandelier bulbs, outdoor floods. This place is a like a medieval scriptorium.
How did it get to this point? Not entirely sure. I kinda exhausted myself inventorying all the burnt out bulbs so now I’m on the couch catching up on Lost episodes with thelovelywife. I guess it’ll all have to wait until the next empty calendar day.
UPDATE: Wife reports that the oven light is burnt out. That should be nice and dangerous to replace. Total: 30.
Calling him out
This is classic.
From ChicagoSports.com:
The Lilly-Piniella incident was one for the books. Lilly [the pitcher] had slipped on a bunt attempt for the second time when Piniella [the coach] gave him some unsolicited advice.
[Lilly recalls the walk to the mound.] “I suggested to him, almost like football, ‘You better change your spikes,’ ” Piniella said. “Then I went out there and he said, ‘Skip, your zipper is down.’ ”
A quick check by Piniella revealed Lilly was correct.
If you’re gonna get yanked from the game for sucking you might as well needle the man in charge, no?
And if you’re wondering where all the posts have gone of late, fear not. The Italy adventure is consuming much of my time … and soon will yours.
Mission Elapsed Time: 20:00:21:06:42:40
I went back through it this blog (and my Flickr account) on its 20th anniversary, retracing digital footprints made on what feels like a different planet. Here are some highlights.
The Terror Tourist
A roughly monthly exploration of places in horror fiction — real or imagined, geographical or psychological — culled from The Heavy Leather Horror Show.
Subscribe to the podcast or the email newsletter or just read through the archives posted here.
The Ampcamper
How I hauled myself, two teens, an 80 lb dog, and a whole load of crap 4000+ miles across six states in twenty days using an electric vehicle. And survived to tell the tale.
