Once, in downtown Chicago, I walked for what seemed like hours. I had spent too many innings at Wrigley Field and a cab dropped off myself and my friend, Tri-Limb, at the wrong hotel. Almost everyone I know has a story about being with him. Most of the stories begin with spending too many innings at a ball park. The stories end with, "...and then he..."
I was lost with Tri-Limb and my strategy was to call back to Iowa to get directions. Needless to say, we walked a lot.
Tri-Limb loses stuff. The Commissioner says if you follow Tri-Limb around all day you can get rich off the money that he drops. He once lost his car at a 7-11. Hell, he even lost his arm.
Today is a much more somber. Our good friend lost his mother. She battled for an amazing stretch. We never met but she meant a lot to my friend and so she meant a lot to me.
She has found peace. So will your family and you and I will walk again in Wrigleyville.
I was lost with Tri-Limb and my strategy was to call back to Iowa to get directions. Needless to say, we walked a lot.
Tri-Limb loses stuff. The Commissioner says if you follow Tri-Limb around all day you can get rich off the money that he drops. He once lost his car at a 7-11. Hell, he even lost his arm.
Today is a much more somber. Our good friend lost his mother. She battled for an amazing stretch. We never met but she meant a lot to my friend and so she meant a lot to me.
She has found peace. So will your family and you and I will walk again in Wrigleyville.
No comments:
Post a Comment