Thursday, February 11, 2010

Holy cow!


I give my husband a hard time, so it's a good thing he has a sense of humor. That, or he's a masochist who enjoys the pity he receives from my readers. In any case, he's the best. And I don't say/write it often enough.

As if I'm not lucky enough to have such a great guy in my life, yesterday he surprised me with big birthday plans: a trip to Chicago in the spring. Details include a stay at the Ritz downtown, which makes me a little nervous 'cuz we're not Ritz kinda-people. Ritz crackers?...yes. Ritz hotels?...uh, not quite. But I'll give it a shot and promise not to steal the bath towels. But the shampoo is still free, right? Plus, dinner at Harry Caray's restaurant and - best of all - a Cubs game at WRIGLEY FIELD with seats so close to the action I'm practically guaranteed to get smacked in the head by a foul ball!

Can I get a HOLY COW?!

I'm so flippin' excited about that last part that I peed my pants a little. OK. Honestly. I just did. I lost bladder control years ago thanks to pregnancy and a 24-hour labor.

I've been a Cubs fan since I was little. Some might think that strange, growing up in KC Royals and St. Louis Cardinals country. But we lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I rarely got to catch a baseball game 'cuz our television only received one channel. On a clear day. If me or my brother stood next to the antenna with a stick of aluminum foil in one hand, the other hand placed on the TV and reciting 'Hail Mary'...and we weren't even Catholic.

And back before the powers-that-be struck terror in the hearts of baseball purists everywhere and added lights to Wrigley Field, the team played a ton of day games - games my Dad listened to on AM radio while on a tractor in the hayfield. Dad was a Cubs fan. Ergo, I was a Cubs fan.

And then I turned 12 and all was right with the world - Mom and Dad installed satellite TV. And this was satellite TV in its infancy, my friends. The dish was the size NASA used to send radio signals to deep space. It came with no fewer than 6 boxes. One for the transponder. One for the actual channel. One for ordering Chinese food. And the rest were for launching missiles at the good old USSR.

And with this new-fangled technology came a lovely channel called WGN. And they showed the Cubs games all summer long. I was in heaven.

And now I'll get to see Wrigley Field in all its spectacular glory. Part of me mourns the fact that I won't get to share this special moment with my Dad. He never got to Wrigley Field before a massive heart attack 2 1/2 years ago took him from us. But I know he'll be there with me on that day. Especially if the wind is blowing out to center.

Instead, I'll get to experience it with my husband. A great man who mirrors many of my Dad's wonderful qualities. And, like Dad, one who rarely shows his emotions but loves deeply and honestly. I'm a lucky girl.

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