Thursday I got a free Cubs ticket and went in with Anurag, Big Dave, and Joe P. Anurag thought (we all thought, actually) he had a great and free parking spot on Belmont but it turned out to be an illegal parking spot between 4 and 7. Which meant that, with the game being a 1:20 start, Sean Marshall would have had to turn in a Mark Buerhle-like performance to keep us legal. He didn't. In fact, neither starter worked quickly, pitched effectively, or even made it out of the third inning. I like Sean Marshall; he is over time I think an average pitcher, and he'll have good and bad starts. He's had mostly good ones so far, and had a bad one Thursday, and Anurag got a parking ticket.
I was going to do a bike-to-the-south-side thing to meet with Susan, Jess, KT, Erin and Zeke but then I twisted my knee at Frisbee after the game. So I was going to take my bike on the train and ride around in the morning scoping out neighborhoods, but this was a no-bike weekend on Metra beacuse of Lollapalooza. So I surrendered my travel plans to the whims of the CTA.
Walking through maybe Ravenswood or maybe Edgewater (probably from Ravenswood to Edgewater) this morning I was talking about my afternoon plans to someone in my head (no, really, I'm not insane, I just always need to be thinking about something, and inner dialog is twice the fun of inner monologue) and I said to that person that having friends like Susan, Jess, KT, Zeke and Erin reassured me that there must be a good person somewhere in me. That they're totally awesome folk. And that they would probably be OK with him (the person in my head) hanging out with them (he graciously declined, having important afternoon plans, and already having spent his morning bumming around the north side with me).
On the Bryn Mawr Red Line platform some people were idly chatting waiting for a southbound train and one asked if his companions thought the El tracks up on the north side were more or less stable than the bridge that collapsed in Minneapolis. And, that bridge collapsing, Oh, Man! So much of what we stand on like it's solid ground... I didn't even know until yesterday that Lower Wacker and its ilk are basically at the original ground level of downtown Chicago. Though I did randomly know that such a thing had done in Seattle and that it had, as in Chicago, helped to alleviate flooding among other things. And I knew that there was a huge blackout within my lifetime caused by flooding in old freight subways downtown. But I've never pounded ground downtown and felt like I was on top of something. Crazy.
A while later, in Lakeview-ish, a woman who'd just stepped out of a building walking a little white dog complimented my shirt and asked where I got it. It was my WWR BIOMASS (OK, BOMIAS to be correct and all) shirt. Susan says that in Hyde Park she frequently gets hit on by strange men. So maybe if I lived in Lakeview that is how strange women would hit on me, by meekly complimenting my odd t-shirts. Well, I'm not going to live in Lakeview anyway, so I won't have to worry about that, except while traveling.
The name of this blog is "But I wanna be a taxi driver!". I definitely don't want to be a bus driver. If I was the driver of either the sardine-packed bus I took to Hyde Park or the bus I took back downtown through the crowd of drunk and clueless people pouring out of Lollapalooza ("Um, like, does this bus go to [insert random intersection/neighborhood/suburb here]") I would have probably flipped out.