Somehow, for the fourth year in a row, I managed to take a vacation day from work to reserve my tickets (because if I didn‘t, I‘d barely stand a chance at getting any …). So I woke at about 8:30 yesterday morning, donned my Cubs hat and retro jersey for good luck, flipped on our two computers and opened as many Internet windows as the screen would fit.
In case you’re not familiar with the process -- it is a science -- Cubs tickets go on sale each year on a Friday morning in late February. Beginning at 9:30 a.m., internet shoppers are allowed to go into the virtual waiting room, and at 10 a.m., ticket sales begin. But the time you logged on means absolutely nothing because you’re selected from the virtual waiting room at random -- hence the two computers with as many windows open as possible to increase my chances of being selected.
There have been years I’ve waited all day and come away with measly tickets to a throw-away game, and there’s been years where I’ve had the greatest luck in the world …
Upon talking about the process to cohorts, one asked me if I was going to Wrigley to buy tickets. Heck no. The process is more dangerous there. The virtual waiting room is an actual line and your fate is determined by a number on your wristband, which is called at random -- so camping out is a waste of time. Oh, and you have to get that wristband in the couple days before tickets go on sale. Not even worth it -- I’d much rather sit in my heated home, listening to music and vegge while I sit and stare at two computer screens…
As fun as that sounds.
Going in, my goal was to try for three dates. Though Kates and I have done April dates before, that Chicago cold can bite, so I was trying to stay away from any April or May dates this year. On Sundays, I play baseball, and though I’d love to spend any weekday afternoon at Wrigley I do have to earn a paycheck. Which meant any Saturday between June and September would be do-able, minus a couple dates here and there for weddings, 10-year reunions and some summer excursions.
So the waiting began …
And at 10:48 a.m., I was in for the first time. I had two minutes to complete my order. Quickly, I scanned the dates I'd circled on my schedule and went for June 16, a day game against San Diego. Two terrace reserved tickets along the infield. Got ‘em! One game down.
And I’m thrown back in the virtual waiting room.
But as I glanced over my schedule again, I nearly began banging my head against a wall. In my haste I overlooked a Saturday, Aug. 18 date against St. Louis -- a marquee game! All I could do was hope I got through again before the game sold out.
No dice. By 11:45, the sold-out dates were starting to appear on the screen. Opening day. The White Sox series. And that Aug. 18 game against St. Louis.
My second chance to buy tickets came at bout 12:15. Not wanting to pass on a chance at the St. Louis series, I bought a single ticket for a Friday afternoon game on Aug. 17 against the Cardinals (something I did a few years ago when the Cubs were chasing the NL pennant and had a blast …). It’s a terrace box seat in the infield.
So now I’ve got two Cubs dates reserved, and I begin to do some second-thinking about that third date.
I’ve never been to Comiskey for a Sox game, and I’ve been telling myself the last couple years to get down there. And I would love to see a Sox-Tigers game …
So I logged on to the White Sox schedule and began scanning. Most of the marquee games are weekdays, which doesn’t play in my favor, but lo and behold, there’s a Sox-Tigers series on the last weekend of the season. I’m thinking, oh man, if both of those teams are in a pennant race, how sweet would it be to be at one of those games?!
But as I try picking out some seats, it’s quickly apparent the pickings will be slim. Finally, I find two seats in the nosebleed section and reserve them.
I let out a sigh of relief and say ‘I’m done.’ I’m still kicking myself for not going for that Saturday date against the Cardinals. But I have to be pleased with what I did get.
Not so fast.
Mid afternoon, Kates calls and inquires about the tickets. And as I tell her about the White Sox game, she reminds me that one of my best friends’ weddings is that same weekend in Kansas City …
Doh!! I had my calendar in front of me all morning, with all our summer plans marked and circled -- except for that wedding date, which I’d just confirmed a few days earlier and had yet to put on my calendar.
Hopefully, those Sox tickets will be easy to get rid of …
Anybody want ‘em? E-mail me.
* * *
Once Kates arrived home Friday night, we laid out, catching up on the excess of “American Idol.” … Seriously. Five hours worth of “Idol” ? Does Fox not understand the meaning of excessive!? Two hours of guys on Tuesday night, two hours of girls on Wednesday night and then an hour on Thursday night only to look back at the previous two nights and reveal who’s going home.
Ugh. Yet we still watch -- and fast forward through the commercials and monotony with our DVR!
Really, we probably could have skipped Tuesday night’s edition, and we would’ve barely missed a thing. Most of the guys were awful, with Sundance’s (why is he still around!?!) puke-your-heart-out version of “Nights In White Satin” to top the list of futility. And Sanjaya Malakar, who I was super-impressed with in the beginning is singing his way right out of the competition, too.
But enough of the bad. My vote -- if I was one of the 30 million people who actually picked up a phone to vote -- would’ve been for Chris Sligh. Holy cow! -- the guy blew the other guys out of the water!! While everyone else, as one of the judges pointed out, was stuck in the ’80s, Sligh stepped onto the stage and belted out an atypical song, Mute Math’s “Typical.” Afterward Sligh said he picked it because it’s a song that’s popular now, and it’s the kind of music people are listening to, an idea that appeared totally lost on the judges who seemed to be clueless about the song, not to mention Simon who ripped Sligh for his performance of it …
Whatever. Sligh is my pick for the top male in the competition and I’m sticking to it …
But my props also go to Blake Lewis for staying off his beatbox and doing good on Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know,” and to Chris Richardson, the Justin Timberlake wannabe who surprised me with a decent take on Gavin DeGraw’s “I Don’t Want To Be.”
Bring on the girls. A complete 180 of the guys’ night, the girls -- well, most of them -- sang like anyone of them could be the next “American Idol.” Although, the last of the bunch, Lakisha Jones nearly blew the roof off the theater when she sang Jennifer Hudson’s “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going.” The woman can sing, and Simon wasn’t kidding when he suggested the other 23 contestants could think about packing their bags …
But while Jones might be the frontrunner, I still have soft spots for Gina Glocksen and Melinda Doolittle, too …
After Wednesday night’s show, I thought for sure Jersey girl Antonella Barba and Nicole Tranquillo were as good as gone. Like Sundance, Barba picked a song that was way bigger than her -- Aerosmith’s “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” -- and she tanked. And Tranquillo’s version of Chaka Khan's “Stay” was punishing to hear and watch.
In the end, Sundance, Barba and Malakar somehow got the votes. Tranquillo, Amy Krebs, “Shoeless” Paul Kim and Rudy Cardenas did not. Their downfall: Frankly, their performances were lame and forgettable.
But look for Sundance, Malakar and Barba (who could get booted off “Idol” for other reasons …ay yay yay, Antonella …) to go next week …
Here’s a few good “Idol” reads -- all from Entertainment Weekly, I didn’t plan that -- that hit my experiences right on the head …
a Our 24 Party People: We size up the ''American Idol'' semifinalists: Some front-runners and some also-rans are already starting to emerge
a Low-Buzz Cut: On the first elimination show of ''American Idol'' season 6, a couple forgettable singers are let go before the aggressively awful ones
a Boot Camp: The first semifinalists to be evicted this season on ''American Idol'' talk about regrets, song choice, and Antonella
* * *
So Thursday's "Grey’s Anatomy" …
I wasn’t shy last week about my disdain for last week’s episode …
But this week's finale to the three-parter, well, they pulled it off. I was pleased. As Gregory Kirschling wrote in his EW review (I’m spending a lot of time on EW this morning, can you tell? Again, not by plan -- they just have the best reviews and content…) good salvage work indeed …
While I was pretty sure, Meredith wasn’t going to die (as if the title of the episode -- “Some Kind of Miracle” -- didn’t give it away), the episode was as entertaining and gripping as any this season. The dialogue actually made sense and the characters we’ve grown so attached to were back to their old selves …
I did like the scenes of “Afterlife Meredith,” though parts of them made no sense and too abstract. Izzie’s dead fiance Denny and dead bomb technician Dylan returned on the heels of last week’s episode to help Meredith understand what was happening, and then in a yeah! moment we also got to see Bonnie, the young woman who was impaled by a pole and died in one of the best Grey’s episodes ever (but I don‘t think we needed the whole thing with her stomach suddenly and mysteriously bleeding out…), a nurse who worked with Meredith’s mom and died in season two, even Meredith’s dog, who was put to asleep in an earlier episode. But all this made me wonder, where was George’s dad, who died a few weeks ago?
Meanwhile in the hospital, we got to see Callie rip into Izzie and Burke and Christina actually communicating like a real couple (the scene of Christina getting drunk at the bar and Burke coming in to tell her she would never forgive herself if she wasn’t around when Meredith died might be one of my favorite Christina-Burke scenes ever). We got to see Shepherd show Addison how much he loves Meredith, and then Addison turns around and makes a no-sex deal with Sloan. Awesome …
If there were any moments that made my eyes roll, one would be that Meredith recovered so quickly. One moment she's barely getting out an "ouch" with Christina, and the next she's smiling and talking to Shepherd. No lasting effects, no brain damage, nuthin'.
Still, good salvage work indeed.
PLUS: I stumbled on to this from the Wha!?!?! category …
'Grey's Anatomy' conspiracy theory
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