Sharing a Shower

I have to admit something. I am a spoiled pussy. I realized this last week as I was having my upstairs bathroom remodeled. My wife and I were forced to share one bathroom for the first time in years. This caused me some very minor inconveniences but none the less, I was extremely relived when it was all over and my wife was back in her upstairs bathroom with all of her scented soap and hair conditioners.

I am a simple man. All I really need in my shower is a bottle of Pert and a bar of Zest. I am good to go with that. I can clean most of my various body parts with those two products. My wife, God love her tries to get me to use liquid Dial with a shower poof thing. I have gotten along fine without it and really when I am bathing myself I really don’t like a lot of clutter in the shower. I just want to reach over and grab my bottle of Pert and wash my hair and be done with it.

So, as I was forced to have to share my downstairs shower with Joyce, all of the sudden my personal space was being over run with Bath and Bodywork lotions and Burt’s Bee’s soaps. My big bottle of Pert was becoming hidden behind the myriad of products that Joyce uses. This was causing me some minor aggravations in the morning as my usual routine was interrupted.

On top of the shower situation I was forced to have to go downstairs when I needed to take my 3 AM leak. Usually I can just get out of bed and stumble into the upstairs toilet and take care of my business. Last week I was forced to negotiate two sets of stairs in my half awake, zombie state. One night I nearly took a header right down the basement steps as I nearly tripped over our cat I didn’t see sitting on the bottom step.

I know, how I sound. I mean I get it, so what. If this is my biggest problem then well, I really have nothing to bitch about. Still, I got spoiled having my own bathroom. I guess it is like anything else. If you never had something you never miss it. It is like central air. I grew up with it in my house so, I really never gave it much thought. Then I got an apartment without it and I never realized just what a privilege it is to have it.

Having my own bathroom is kind of like that. I mean when I was a kid I shared one with my brother and then went to DePaul and shared one with my roommate. Then, I moved in with Tony and shared one with him. I then moved in with Kim and shared one with her. I really never had my own bathroom until I lived by myself in Chicago Ridge in 1998. So, I never really gave it much thought. Then once I had my own I got spoiled.

So, for the better part of nine years I have not really had to share a bathroom with anyone. When Joyce and I first moved in together we found an apartment with two bathrooms. Then soon after that we bought our house. So, when last week my bathroom was invaded by my wife I got territorial. Everywhere I looked in my shower was crap I didn’t want there. For some reason this bothered me. After thinking about it I realized just what a pussy I have become. I mean at least I have a shower to share. Imagine if we only had one bathroom? I would be bathing at the gym all week and that would have really sucked.

I am saddened at what I have become. I mean it was only a week and our bathroom upstairs really looks cool now. We now have a whirlpool tub and a new toilet and sink. It is a huge upgrade over what we had up there. If sharing a bathroom for a week was all I had to do, then what the fuck. I know I should just shut up and realize what I spoiled brat I sound like. So, after thinking about it, I decided that is what I will try to do. Instead of complaining to myself about some minor inconveniencies I will try to roll with it. Life is too short to get my balls in an uproar every time my small little world that I created for myself gets interrupted.

Some F' You's

I want to send out a fuck you to some very special people.

To the guy in front of me in line at Ace Hardware on 111^th and Southwest Highway. I don’t even know what this douchebag’s problem was but, he was verbally berating and belittling the poor 16 year old checkout girl. I was one second away from telling the guy to fuckoff and stop being such a dick. I mean I am sure that checkout girl was solely responsible for Ace Hardware’s pricing and return policy. Hope you feel better about yourself by taking it out on her.

To the moronic old bag who was driving the red Chevy Suburban who was in front of me on Saturday at the light on 103^rd and Roberts Road. You know, there is new thing where you can actually turn right on red. Particularly when there are no cars for miles around at 7:45 in the morning. As I have often stated it is far too easy to get a drivers license in this world and you are living proof.

To the lady working the return counter at Ikea who waited on Joyce and me on Saturday. You know I realize you have a shitty job but, do you have to be so unpleasant to the rest of society? I mean a simple smile can go a long way when it comes to servicing the public which, I hate to remind you is kind of you job.

To the lady in Milwaukee who was berating me on the phone because Fed Ex lost her package. Of course the irony was that they didn’t lose it, it was sitting in the mail room. If you had gotten off of your fat ass and checked yourself instead of yelling at me and blaming me for something that was out of my control the whole mess may have been avoided.

To the Asshole who was waiting on my wife at Menards in Hodgkins. I was not there, but from she tells me you are a dick.

And finally to the people who run TQstats. We had been using your website for our baseball league for almost ten years. But, for no other reason other then the sake of change you re-designed your site. You didn’t ask us or tell of the change, nor did you do any testing. That is why for two weeks we had no stats in our league. That is why I spent numerous hours talking to the twelve year olds who run the “help” lines. And, well that is why I switched our baseball site over to a competent service. You have just lost a loyal customer, I hope you are proud of yourselves.

One Out Away

Even though I am huge Cub fan, I must give props to Mark Buehrle who went out Wednesday night and threw a no hitter. It is a rare treat, to see something like that. Baseball is a funny game and you never know what can happen when you walk into a ballpark on any given night.

I have come close to seeing a no hitter twice in my life. Once was in a minor league game and once at Wrigley. Both times I got within one out of being in the ballpark for a no hitter.

June 23, 1984 I was in Columbus visiting my Dad. It was my 15^th birthday so, it was a memorable day already. We had tickets to see the AAA game between the Columbus Clippers and the Toledo Mud Hens that night. We started the day off watching as Ryne Sandberg hit two homers of Sutter as the Cubs would win an improbable game. So we were already on cloud nine as we entered the ballpark to catch the game.

Jim Lewis, a career minor leaguer started for the home team Clippers and as we settled into our seats we had no idea we were going to come oh so close to witnessing history. One by one Lewis sat down the Mud Hen Hitters. At one point around the 6^th or 7^th inning my Dad looked and noticed that Lewis was pitching a no hitter. He went through the 7^th and 8^th without surrendering a hit. We were one inning from seeing a no hitter. Lewis then retired the first two hitters he faced in the 9^th. He only had one out to go. All that stood between him and that no hitter was Boomer Wells. Boomer Wells was another career minor leaguer who would never get as much as a cup of coffee in the bigs. Sure enough he would ruin the fun singleing in between short and third.

Nine years later, I again would get one out from greatness but this time my beloved Cubs would be involved. It was April, 6^th 1993. The Cubs were hosting the Atlanta Braves. As is my usual practice I attend the second home game of the year. I was dating Jenny at the time so, the two of us bundled up and headed out to Wrigley. Jose Guzman, was making his first career start as a Cub. He had just been signed as a free agent over the winter.

Again, the game started normal enough. Then as it went on, Guzman kept retiring hitters. He was perfect through seven. He walked the leadoff hitter to open the 8^th but then would retire the next three hitters. We were three outs from seeing history. Guzman got the first two hitters to start the 9^th. All that stood between him and baseball immortality was Otis Nixon. Nixon hit leadoff and was a threat to bunt. This brought 3^rd baseman Steve Buchelle in a couple of steps. Sure as shit Nixon wound up blooping a single right over Buchelle’s head. Had he been playing normal depth he would have probably caught the thing. Guzman retired the next hitter and had to settle for the one hitter.

I have been to more baseball games in my life then I could ever remember. But those two in particular stand out. As much as people may love the home run and offense, there is nothing more exciting then a no hitter in baseball. To put this in perspective, the Cubs have not had a pitcher throw a no hitter since 1972 by Milt Pappas. The last time they were no hit as a team you have to go back to 1965 when Sandy Koufax threw one at them. I was oh so close twice and both times the feeling in the ballpark was magical. I have not been close to seeing one since then. I guess that is the great thing about baseball, I mean no one could have predicted Buehrle was going to throw a gem like that last night but, he went out and did it.

In Support of an Idiot

I am a die hard left wing commie liberal. I have said that over and over again and I vote my beliefs. I am also a big believer in our personal freedoms. One of my biggest personal crusades is freedom of speech. It is the right of every American to say what ever the hell they want. No matter how ugly, insensitive or stupid.

All this is why I actually find myself in light support of Don Imus. While I condone everything he said and find him to be an over the hill ignorant moron, I don’t feel he should have lost his job. If people really found his show that offensive, then they would not have listed, his ratings would have gone down and he would have been let go. Instead his bosses buckled to advertisement and political pressure.

When advertisers start dictating creative programming we have a problem. I can understand major corporations not wanting to be associated with Imus. But, then I have to ask why where they sponsoring his show before he made his latest comments? It is not like this is the first time he has said something stupid. Simply put, this time he pissed off the wrong people and they took it upon themselves to be the moral police for all of us.

When Imus made homophobic or chauvinistic statements he got a pass and hardly anyone raised an eyebrow. Basically, what this tells me is that it is okay to slur gays and women but once you target African Americans you go over the line. Prejudice against anyone based on religion, skin color, sex, or sexual preference is wrong.

Like anyone with half a brain, I too find what Imus said repulsive. But, I also find the censoring of him to be misguided. Sadly, we have given up so many of our freedoms that no one raises an eyebrow any more when our civil liberties get trampled. Imus, as sad as this is has an audience. Granted, that audience is about as sharp as a butter knife but, when he was fired his show on MSNBC was their top rated program.

Imus, will land on his feet you mark my words. Once everything blows over he will end up with another radio gig, be it on terrestrial or satellite. I hope that things will change, but I know that they won’t. Freedom of speech is important. Saying unpopular things is important. As much as I hate Ann Coulter and the hate she spews, she has every right under the constitution to say what is on her feeble mind.

I guess my main point to all of this is that, it is up to each individual person to agree or disagree with what another person says. In the end what Imus said did not hurt anyone. We have become so scarred and we over react to everything that these stories tend to take on a life of their own. I disagree, strongly with what Imus said. I thought it was mean, racist, and offensive not only to blacks but to women. Still, I will defend that assholes right to say it and that is the great thing about living in America. If I don’t like what they guy says I don’t have to listen to or watch his show.

Vacation?

I am back at work after just finishing up a week long vacation. Here is a rundown on what I did with my time off. Just to save you some time in case you don’t want to read this whole thing, I lead a boring ass life these days.

Saturday 4/7 – I had a busy day ahead of me so, I got up early enough to hit the gym. After that, I grabbed a quick lunch and was off to Glenview to the Kohl’s Children’s Museum to celebrate my nephew A.J’s 4^th birthday. Joyce was working so, I made the trek by myself.

I must say I am jealous that they didn’t have stuff like this when I was a kid. The place is a childs paradise with so much stuff to do it can tire out the most hyperactive kids on earth. I enjoyed some White Castle burgers there as well as some kick ass egg rolls. After awhile I had to take off as I was meeting my Mom, Lou, my brother and Joyce (She was meeting us after she got out of work) at Vic’s in Oakbrook.

Since, Easter was a bit of a mess this year, my Mom was gracious enough to take us out to dinner the night before. My Cousin Kristie is eight months pregnant and was hosting a small dinner in Plainfield but seeing as I had to be in the city to celebrate the day with my in laws a trip out to the end of the earth was not in the cards.

So, we all met at Vic’s. Vic’s is an Italian restaurant which is becoming one of my favorites. I don’t like a lot of Italian places as I have been spoiled by my own families cooking. However, Vic’s is damn good. I got the gnocchi in Vodka sauce which they throw in some of their homemade sausage. The gnocchi is homemade as well and it is a mouth watering delight. I topped it all off with some bread pudding for desert. I left the place with my pants un-done but it was worth it.

Sunday 4/8 – It was Easter, a holiday that is lamer then a double bill of Dave Matthews and Hootie and Blowfish. I had to make a couple of stops. First, Joyce and I were off to St. Ferdinand’s to meet her family for church. I am about as religious as your typical counselor at Planned Parenthood, but out of respect to Joyce’s family, I make the trip each year. After getting brainwashed for an hour we head off to eat.

We ate at a Filipino restaurant I can’t remember the name of somewhere on Belmont. It was pretty good, as they had a buffet. I had some beef stew type of dish that was killer. After eating we went to my brother in law Alan’s house to check out his newly remodeled bathroom. Since we are getting ours done we wanted to check it out to see if we should use the same guy. It was pretty nice so, Joyce decided to give the go ahead to have ours done.

After leaving there, we were off to Bridgeview, to my Aunt’s house to grab some desert with my Dad’s side of the family. I grabbed some brownies and a cupcake and played some 500 rummy. My Uncle Dan schooled us big time and we were off to home so I could get my Soprano’s and Entourage on.

Monday 4/9 – Joyce and I had some major errands to run. I had rented a car so, I had to return it at Midway. After that we were off to our accounts office to retrieve our taxes. Our account is actually Joyce’s Uncle Roger whose office is all the way in Rodgers Park. It is a bit of ride but worth it as he has done a great job for us.

After getting our taxes Joyce and I went to the Bagel on Belmont for some lunch. The Bagel has been one of my favorite lunch spots in the city ever since my brother took me there years ago. I got a matzo ball soup and a corn beef sandwich that both rocked. I also hit a used record store in the area and picked up some 50 cent LP’s (the cost not the artist) to add my growing collection.

We eventually got home and we were off again to Sherwin Williams to pick out some paint as we were painting our kitchen. Joyce went with baked clay as the color which is kind of like an orangeish red mix. We got two gallons and we were off to the gym. After putting in some time on the treadmill we headed home for the evening.

Tuesday 4/10 – Tuesday was the only day of the week I was doing something fun with my vacation. I was going to the Cubs game. It was cold out but, I dressed for it and was on my way. I was meeting my friend Tony, there. I parked my car at Midway and took the CTA to Wrigley. As usual I went with out tickets with the intention of getting some from the box office. Sure, enough I was able to get tickets six rows from the Cub dugout for face value.

I then went to the Raw Bar, my usual Wrigley meeting spot to wait for Tony. After he arrived we had a couple of cold ones before heading into the park. We had just great seats and sadly watched as the Cubs got beat 4-2 by the Astros. After the game Tony and I again hit the Raw bar for a couple more and wait out the train crowd. Eventually, we made our way to the train and I headed home for the evening.

Wednesday 4/11 – Joyce had to work so, I was left in the house by myself. It had snowed that morning so, any outdoor work I wanted to get done was not going to happen. So, I instead went to the gym and grabbed some lunch.

Once, I got home I started to prep the kitchen for the painting job. I got all the crap out of the kitchen and moved into the Family room. I started putting down newspaper and taping some of the edges off and brining the ladder in from the garage so we would be all set to go on Thursday. After Joyce got home we ate dinner and I got my Lost on before falling asleep on the couch.

Thursday 4/12 – The painting began in earnest. Joyce had taken Thursday and Friday off to help with the project. Most of the day was taken up with the task at hand. We took a break to hit the bank my Mom works at as I needed to sign some papers there. Other then eating dinner we spent most of the day painting the kitchen.

Friday 4/13 – At long last we finished up painting and we cleaned up and moved everything back so, our kitchen is now functional. We both were pretty wiped after that so, we just relaxed and grabbed some dinner.

Saturday 4/14 – Joyce was back at work, so I was again left alone to man the house. I got up and got my allergy shot and hit the gym. I then got home and finished up some small kitchen tasks like hanging some pictures and stuff. I settled in to watch the Cubs game and wait for Joyce to get home. We settled on Les Brothers for dinner and split a skirt steak which was very good.

Sunday 4/15 – Joyce and I got up and hit the gym. Then, we went and got some Culvers for lunch. After that we were off to Home Depot. We had to pick out all the materials for or bathroom remodeling project. So, after looking at tiles and water faucets for what seemed like a week, I was ready to buy a gun. After spending eternity there we were off to Menards where we purchased our whirlpool tub.

After dealing with all that, we made another trip to Sherman Williams to pick out a paint color for the bathroom. We then hit an Italian grocery store and grabbed some pasta to cook for that night. We finally got home, cooked dinner and settled in for the Soprano’s and Entourage.

All in all it was a productive if not relaxing week off. I don’t have another vacation until August so, it is back to the grind for awhile.

Breakfast

Living in the burbs of the greatest city in the world, Chicago, there are things you tend to take for granted. One of them is eating establishments. Whenever I travel outside of the city, I notice how few independent food choices one has. Living here we have a plethora of choices for our morning breakfast meals. Most other cities I go to your choices are limited to a Denny’s or some other unholy chain. Where I live I have a ton of Greek restaurants and other assorted diners where I can enjoy a nice breakfast.

Back in the summer of 1989 I and my geeky friends got an idea. We would meet every Tuesday morning and go to breakfast. After each breakfast we would rate each place. We called ourselves the Tuesday morning breakfast club. It consisted of me, and my friends Rob, Paul, Joe Amado, Wally and Chris.

Why we did this I am still not sure. We would go to these establishments and order breakfast and then go to Chris and Paul’s house and rate each place on special surveys we created on Paul’s Apple II. In case you were wondering yes, we were geeks.

But, I have to admit that it was fun. We would rate the place on taste, cost, service and atmosphere. We went to quite a few establishments during our time together. If memory serves me right, Jedi’s Garden on 95^th and Southwest Highway got the highest marks and Steak and Egger on Central was by far the worst place we ate at.

Look up the term greasy spoon in the dictionary and you will see a picture of the Steak and Egger. It was on Central somewhere right after you get off of the Stevenson. You had the one old haggard Flo type waitress with Vic Tayback manning the grill. I remember them serving us Tang and calling it orange juice. I think Rob got the Steak and Eggs and got the fattest piece of meat possible served to him.

After the Tuesday Morning Breakfast club stopped meeting we found another greasy spoon to hang out and that was Bac’ and Eggs. It was located on 79^th and Cicero just behind the infamous Scottsdale outdoor mall. Home of the Goldblatts and the southwest Burbs finest pick pockets.

Bac and Egg’s was similar to the Egger in that it also had the hardened waitress (who if memory serves me once started flirting with either Wally or Chris.) But it also had Marv the cook. Marv was an old Army cook who didn’t say much and had looked as if he had been through the ringer a couple of times.

The key to the place was to not stray to far off the main menu. If you got bacon and eggs you were fine. It was cheap and really it is kind of hard to fuck up scrambled eggs and bacon. But, being young we would always try to look deep into the menu to try and find some hidden gem. Like the time Wally ordered the perch dinner.

Only a truly brave soul would order a perch dinner at Bac and Egg’s and well I guess Wally was feeling a little adventurous. When he ordered it the waitress raised an eyebrow. That should have been a signal to re-think his order, but he stayed with it. This was like seventeen years ago so my memory is a little hazy but I think I remember Wally saying it wasn’t bad going down. It would be the after effects that it would produce that we would all pay a price for.

To say my friend had gas afterwards would be an insult to any person who has ever taken a Rolaids in their life. No, this was not gas, this was an unholy beast that was leashed upon us from the depths of hell that was using Wally’s ass as an oracle. I have smelled some unpleasant things in my day, but nothing like this. What he unleashed in the car on our way home and throughout the rest of the night had a very tear inducing effect. I think an autopsy might smell better.

On top of the gas producing fish that was available at the B&E you could also win some money. They had a poker machine in the back. On one trip there my friend Chris put some money in the machine and thought he was playing for fun. He kept betting and betting and kept winning what we all thought was play money. Then Dave, our older and wiser shaman who originally turned us on to Bac’ and Eggs (and also introduced us to Bush Light Draft beer) looked at how many credits Chris had and told him not to touch a thing. Dave summoned Marv the cook, who took out a sweaty stack of money and paid Chris his winnings.

We would go back a number of times to that back room but would rarely win again. You bet different when it is for real, I guess. The place closed down a number of years ago as most diners of that ilk do. For every Les Brothers and Georgio’s that stay around forever there are ten that close. Paradise, Fantasy, J.C. George’s, Daniel’s, and the White House are just some of the many locally owned dining establishments that have closed their doors.

As for now, I still try and hit breakfast as much as I can with Joyce on Sunday mornings. We really like Southern Belle’s on Archer and Koko’s on 95^th. To me one of the perks of living where I do is that number of different places I can grab a short stack at. To some this may seem trivial but, sometimes there is nothing like a greasy spoon breakfast to start the day off right.

My Beater

I drive a 1994 Brown Ford Ranger. It has 176,000 miles on it. It is what someone might call a beater. But, while no one else seems to, I love my truck. It is a love affair that no one else seems to understand. I mean the car looks like crap, it is old and is falling apart but, despite all that I am loyal to it. Simply put it has been my favorite vehicle of all the ones that I have owned.

I bought it in 2003, from my friend, Chuck. Much like myself Chuck loved driving it. But, just like me his wife hated the thing. So, reluctantly he was forced to sell the thing. At the time I was driving my then girlfriend future wife’s old black Ford Escort. She was working in the north burbs and she needed a dependable car to make that trek every day. So, she drove my Dodge Avenger and I was relegated to her 93 Escort.

Since I only was going to the train station every day it wasn’t a big deal but I still really hated that car. It was a tin can with wheels and handled about as well as bumper car. So, when Chuck mentioned to me one day that he was going to have to sell the truck a light bulb went off in my head. I had a plan in which I could sell the Escort, and buy Chuck’s Ranger. Of course since the car wasn’t mine I was going to have to convince Joyce.

At first she was kind of hesitant. But, after my sales job I began to win her over. I convinced her of the trucks many useful capabilities in the future as we were buying a house, she eventually relented and I was able to execute my plan. So, I wound up buying the truck off of Chuck for $2,500 and selling her escort on EBay for $1,500. Meaning all told the truck only cost me a grand out of my own pocket. That would be the best money I ever spent.

My truck has seen me through numerous trips to Menards, Home Depot and Ikea. It has come in handy when friends or relatives are moving. In the nearly four years that I have owned it, it has rarely let me down. I have had to do some minor things, like replace a hose and tune it up but it always starts and it always gets me where I need to go.

On top of all that it is the most comfortable car I have ever driven. A long, long time ago, I blew out my knee playing softball. It has never been the same since that injury. In most cars I drive, the way I bend it usually causes me some minor discomfort. Not, in the Ranger. In the truck, my knee is just fine, as is my back. I have a nice ass grove going in the seat (simply because no one else including Joyce ever drives the thing.) So, I have the seat fully contoured to my comfort specifications.

Sadly, as much as the thing is a tank engine wise it does have some physical drawbacks. The rear view mirror fell off and I have not put it back on as of yet. The middle arm rest no longer can be folded down because a spring broke in it. The window on the drives side does not roll down or up properly. The air conditioning stopped working two summers ago. But despite all that I hate the thought of having to get rid of it.

I realize that the time is coming. I mean, Joyce really does not like it and since we are pretty much set in our house it has kind of outlived its usefulness. The thing is, I don’t drive it anywhere. I drive it two miles to the train station, it sits there for ten hours and then I drive it back home. Last year I put a grand total of 5,000 miles on the thing.

But, it does restrict me. I mean when I get it on the highway it has some problems. It no longer handles that well and needs a front end alignment. So, the time is coming, very soon for me to get a new car. And, when that happens I will miss my truck. It is a car that no else could love. But, I have loved it and defended it to all who have mocked it. My Ford Ranger and I have a special bond that I am going to really miss once I part with it.

Opening Day

Today is the best day of the year. That is because it is opening day. The Cubs have 162 games remaining and I of course will live and die with the results from each and every one. Baseball, particularly Cubs baseball is my passion.

Having a passion is important, everyone should have one. For some people it is music, or literature or needle point art. For yours truly, my main passion is baseball. Sure, I like other sports but, I love baseball. It is so much more then a game to me. I guess it started when I was a young man. I fell in love with the game at a young and impressionable age. Of course my Dad and Uncles should be arrested for child abuse for raising me as a Cub fan but I guess that is my cross to bear.

Each and every April, the season starts anew. With the start of new season comes new expectations and the hope that maybe just maybe this is our year. I am not a greedy man, all I want is to win just one World Series title. I will then be happy and not ask for anything more. Just one magical summer where my Cubs are the kings of the game I love so much.

I think we have suffered enough with the last two years being particularly cruel. Our two biggest rivals have won World Championships the last two seasons. 2005 was bad enough having to endure the White Sox winning it all. But when you add that to the Cardinals 2006 championship it has become unbearable. It is like getting corn-holed, surviving it and then, having to endure the same pain all over again, in some sick twisted sort of hell on earth.

Some would ask, why I put up with this torture each and every season? Well, there are a number of reasons that I just can’t explain. You see, you either get it or you don’t. If you love something, and love it unconditionally you love it for everything that is great about it and you love it despite all of its faults. I love so much about being a Cubs fan, I just hate the losing.

That is a modern misconception of Cub nation. That we accept losing as long as we can party in the bleachers. I will agree, that there is a certain percentage of the population that comes to the park to drink Old Style and oogle scantly clad young girls in the bleachers. However, in my estimation that group is in the minority. Most Cub fans I know care deeply about winning. I want to win not just for me but for my Dad and my Uncle John and my Uncle Dan and all the other Cub fans that have lived with the misery for a lot longer then I have.

For as much as I whine about it, I could not think of being anything other then what I am. Being a Cub fan is like being in on an inside joke. It creates a bond that no other fan of any other team can share. No one not the Red Sox, or the Indians or the White Sox, know the suffering that we have had to endure. Being a south side Cub fan is even harsher. But, it builds character. It lets you dream. When they do win, and trust me sometime in my lifetime I believe with all my heart they will win, it will be so special for us die hards. That is what keeps me going. I may bitch and moan about the club or its performance, but deep down I love them.

So, today I look forward to another season and another year of trips to Wrigley field, the greatest ballpark on earth. I am hopeful that this is our year. My heart of course always tells me it could be while my head tells me not to get too excited. Still, today we are at 0-0. The nightmare of the last years 96 losses are forgotten. It is a new year and anything can happen. Maybe, just maybe it is our time. I have to believe, as all Cub fans have to. If you don’t then what is the point to being a Cub fan. I know it has been 98 years, but I think we are due.