Sweet Home Chicago
As I prepare to head down to Chicago for game one of the World Series, I was looking for a picture I took on the last day at old Comiskey Park. It was a picture of my grandfather, who died years before, in my seat -- a picture of a picture, that's just meta. I couldn't find it (the curse of two apartments and a house in four years). I hope to find it, as I wanted to take a picture of that picture within a picture. My grandpa taught me a lot about being a Sox fan and being loyal. I'm a third-generation Sox fan on both sides of my family. My maternal grandfather, was a Sox fan for pragmatic reasons - he worked in a factory during the day, so there was no way to follow the Cubs. The Sox played a lot of night games. If you've ever heard Lee Elia's (former Cub manager) rant, it all makes sense. It's even better with audio. We're part of the 85% that works for a living, right?
Man, I'm so fired up about this trip. I'm going to will call with my dad -- the buddy system. I'm afraid I've been in Minneapolis and have gone soft. With the price of series tickets on Ebay and broker sites I don't dare walk away from the window alone. I love the Sox, but there's no such thing as "Chicago nice." I thought about taking the red line down to pick up tickets on Friday, but then thought I'd get rolled 37 seconds after leaving the will call window. Instead, dad and I are getting the tickets and stopping off at Portillo's for an Italian beef sandwich (along with really good pizza, something that you don't find in Minnesota).
While digging for the picture of gramps, I found two other things Snackers might appreciate.
:: ::
::