Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.
- Bull Durham
So I just got back from Chicago. I drove up Wednesday afternoon, went to a Cubs game with my mother Wednesday night, and drove back Thursday afternoon.
The game was...awesome. I don't think I've ever been to a game like that. A Cubs broadcaster called it the game of the century. I don't know if I'd go that far, but it was truly amazing. Cubs won, 3-2, and never has the crowd been so into. Let me paint you the picture.
Top of the 7th, Ted Lilly (of the Cubs for you neophytes) is pitching. Men on first and third, one out. Score is tied, 2-2. It's a tense moment. Ken Griffey Jr. is at the plate. He's got 2 strikes. The crowd stands up, starts cheering, clapping, rooting on Ted Lilly. The pitch, Griffey strikes out, the crowd screams in excitement. That's a big out. Now there's two down, the next guy is at the plate, I don't even know who it is. Again, Lilly works to two strikes. He gets the ball back from the catcher. At this point, EVERYONE is on their feet, screaming, yelling as hard as they can, clapping, Wrigley Field is just rocking. Lilly comes into the set position, getting ready to throw. At this point I hear this sort of wail come up, rising in pitch, and I realize it's the crowd. I had thought they were in full throat, I had never heard a crowd so loud. And then they kicked it up another notch. The crowd rose electric, a wall of sound crashing over the field. I heard a crowd go to eleven. Lilly winds up, the pitch, strike three swinging. And Wrigley ERUPTS. People were going nuts, laughing, crying, hugging each other. I was high-fiving everyone around me, though they were total strangers. It was a mad house. Cubs legend Billy Williams starts up Take Me Out to the Ballgame for the 7th inning stretch and you can't even hear him. Everyone at the stadium was singing at the top of their lungs, as one voice.
The entire game was like that. Just nuts in an awesome way. I love Cubs games. Where complete strangers will give you the shirt off your back because you are wearing a Cubs hat. Everyone is nice and friendly.
But that's not what I came here to talk about.
No, I came here to talk about billboards.
I am a sign reader, especially when I am in the passenger seat of a car. And there is no better place to read signs than the highways of Chicago, where the billboards are ancient and reused. I love Chicago. Driving through Indiana or Georgia you see signs for Jesus or anti-abortion hotlines. Last time I was home in Chicago I saw a billboard for an escort agency. This time I saw one for 24 hour massage parlor (it was like adultfungirls.com). How awesome is that. Hookers have billboards in Chicago.
What's great about Chicago is that it isn't trying to be something. Like how some towns are trying to be hipster havens or right-wing meccas. Chicago doesn't give a shit about that. It's not trying to be anything. Chicago is Chicago. Chicago is.
| Posted by Coyote @ 09/21/2007 05:56 PM PDT |  |
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