the cubbies? or the sox?

today (sunday, april 20) on a beautiful Lord's Day, we began with a stroll/run towards Lake Michigan. the dogs and kinder were out in force as we joined in the buffeting (wind/sand/pan-handling) that must take place hourly on the big lake. Amy (my favorite niece - "hey...woe there hoss..don't you have other nieces?") called and asked us to join her for a beverage or two pre or post game (the cubbies were playing (that's why i included the sox in the title you dolt)) depending on when we arrived.

as most of you know...i'm inclined to participate in travel a la mass transit when and how i can with the "el" being no exception. the doorman at 40 E. Delaware has superlative skills including a sense of direction and the best line (red/green/blue/orange) to facilitate our trek to Wrigley Field; hands down the definitive mecca of base-oo-ball-roo (a japanese pronunciation as we're inclined to think that they love baseball more than the americans ("why, i believe that's a might sacriligeous there pardner"). our Amy (she's OUR Amy now (she's always been Gina's Amy but as i haven't spent much time with her 'fore now haven't had the pleasure of her being my Amy as well...thus, OUR Amy) called and asked us to meet her after she fled the festivities sometime during the fifth inning (the shade...the wind, contributing negatively to the game experience....plus it's not the attending the game itself (das Spiel selbst), as much as the quaffing 'o ales in and about the immediate Wrigley environs, in this case a block from the stadium. we met at a local bar...mingled with a few hundred thousand revelers and embraced/hugged following a perfectly spent and lovely afternoon. Amy; you're an exceptional woman and we can't begin to express what that meant for us to share in your life. don't forget us on your way up, dear. and try to remind Ryan next time to get his young, professional, and a bit neer-do-well ass oer to the field.