Went to the Auto Show with the grandkids who enjoyed jumping into every car they could and making a good “kid” evaluation, e.g. two video monitors, easy pull-down seats, etc.
Amazingly I got them to pose in front of this car and got one good shot with them smiling rather than making funny faces, sticking out their tongues, and generally making fun of anyone who isn’t a Sox fan.
Just because it’s winter doesn’t mean that a core group of the summertime senior cyclers can’t find time to do some Thursday morning fun. It often begins at the AMC Theater on Grand at Illinois Street. Our walk this day took us out around Navy Pier to Milton Olive Park. Then it was back to our starting location where we took up residence at the Lucky Strike for lunch, pool, bowling, ping-pong, and fun.
It took a while for my Grandson AJ to get the urge to jump on some small format bikes at the recent Chicago Motorcycle Show. This one’s probably a bit big and both Honda and Kawasaki have ones that are appropriately sized. Makes me wonder as AJ doesn’t really ride a two-wheeler yet about the kids that get these entry dirt bikes. They are illegal for street use so where do you ride?
His favorite thing at the show was the stunt team.
PS: AJ wants a Kawasaki Green Ninja based on the show experience.
Joan was enjoying the cruise while knitting with about 40 other passengers who had signed up for this special event aboard the Celebrity Reflection. It was one of the nicest cruises we have taken, our stateroom was comfortable and the food and beverage service was very good. Here I am enjoying myself on the veranda of our room enjoying a malt beverage. Many brews in this part of the world use sugar for a portion of the recipe.
My very first professional baseball experience was in the 1940’s when the Pittsburgh Pirates lost to the Chicago Cubs in Wrigley Field. I know they call it the “friendly confines,” but someone tried to drop a half-filled cup of beer on me by dropping it while I was exiting the stand. It missed me by inches, but that’s another story.
I’ve been a Cubs fan ever since. Buried away in my boxes of childhood objects I have Andy Pafko’s autograph from the time when he visited Elm Place School in Highland Park. It doesn’t bother me about win or lose, at least I don’t think so. Beer bombs or not, being exposed to baseball from the stands in Wrigley Field is an experience, a right of passage for us North Siders.
The experience of going to a game, however, is becoming less and less attractive. We live downtown and the Red Line is no problem if you don’t mind a bit of a crowd. The price of the tickets has risen, my grandkids can easily down $50 of food each, and changes to the field abound. Night games! OK, a necessity, but the signs, etc. — you can hardly see the guys change the score on the old board.
Now it has finally happened. The last straw. What was wrong with the old “mascot?” I guess that exposing your kids and grandkids to the Cubs is now all about having the Cubs, in the persona of Clark, expose himself to you.
Will the anatomically correct Clark last the season, or will he find a pair of pants? Or perhaps more importantly, is this a way of ending the Cubs of yesterday with a “modern” version of the Cubs?
Honestly I would prefer that the Ricketts Family change the name to the Kane Kounty Kodiaks, move the team to the end of the world, charge whatever they want for admission and food, and let the Chicago Historical Society run Wrigley Field as the museum it is for us old-time fans.
