Why it's a miracle we ever got to the SOA
So. I unfortunately did not see Anthony Green and his suspension cable at the Metro Sunday night. To this, i directly place the blame on a) my poor planning skills, b) the people who should have known better than to let me plan the trip, c) Ashley Schiele, and d) the Chicago Cubs. But that is for later.
Yesterday afternoon,
ins0mnesiac,
davyjoneshocker, and
edfnblair traveled to the local chapter of the Izaak Walton League of America for some good ol' fashioned trap shooting. With shotguns. The big nice guy who taught me how to shoot the last time greeted us and set us up with some guns and ammo and we headed out to the range. My camera is at home so maybe later i'll facebook some pictures of us there. We each shot 25 birds, separated into rounds of 5 where we would rotate and periodically switch weapons.
Total scores were thus:
Ed: 11
Greg: 15
Martin: 15
Scott: 15
I started with one perfect round before faltering and completely losing it when i switched to a pump action rather than the breechloader i'm used to. Martin held his own, and Greg showed that he can make the transition from riflery to shotgunnery smoothly. Ed, although getting a slow start, kicked it into gear in the end, when years of Counterstrike began to rear its ugly head in the form of his newfound gunnery skills. We returned home with talk of starting a Gun Club on campus, either that or a "Gun Safety Club," "Trap Shooting Club," "Ultimate Trap Shooting Club," or just "Ultimate Club" to be sneaky. We also toyed with the idea of forming an alliance with the current frisbee players, enlisting them to throw clay pigeons while we shoot over their heads and shower them with shrapnel. We also noted the irony immediately apparent in my potential co-chairmanship of both the Gun Club and Peace & Justice. The proposal to stash our weapons in the Peace House was shot down rather quickly.
Anyway. At 3:30 i picked up
me_sa_dorchadas and we headed towards Chicago and our rendezvous with Destiny (aka Circa Survive, Saves the Day, and Moneen). Of course, toll bottlenecks cost us a good half an hour of our time. Some things i have to tell you about smoking in a car in a traffic jam: it's tremendously calming, with a pair of aviators i'd look about as badass as Teppei Teranishi does in this picture, and it makes the horribly polluted air of the interstate feel cool and refreshing in comparison.
So we're turning onto Irving Park off the Kennedy Expressway, and the whole exit is backed waaay up onto the interstate. Whatever. I get in line, turn east, and immediately become lost. After several minutes of searching for a recognizable street, we end up about thirty blocks north and west of the Metro. I head east to Clark, and head south to find parking. Meanwhile, the telltale signs are becoming more and more obvious. An abnormally large police presence. Pedestrians clad in red, white, and blue. Hispanic people waving orange flags into crammed lots with the sign, "PARKING: $30." Banners with a simplified "C" hanging from apartment windows. We get to the Metro, drive another block, and we discover the source of this ungodly mass of people: Wrigley Field.
We have managed to land ourselves at a concert within a block of a fucking Cubs game. Better yet, who else are they playing but the Cardinals.
Many people who grew up outside of Illinois might not understand the shit i have to go through as a Saint Louis fan living in Chicago territory. From the "Albert Takes It In The Pujols" shirt vendors to the toll lady who tells me that the Belvidere toll is "$1.10 for a Cardinals fan," i'm truly sick of Northern Illinois (sans Laura). This kind of bullshit is unknown in Michigan, cos the Lions and Tigers suck collective nuts (although the Tigers are doing kind of well so far), and now that the NHL is no more, all the Red Wings fans are kind of bored. At least i'm not a Yankees fan in Boston (hem hem
me_sa_dorchadas), so i don't have to worry about being hauled out of the subway and beaten with shoes.
So we spend the better part of an hour searching for parking. None is to be had. We finally park in a garage near Lakeshore and walk about ten to fifteen blocks to the damn concert to find that it is sold out. FUCK. Poor planning seems to be my motto for the semester. Eamonn and i briefly debate whether or not to see the game, but instead decide to find Clarke's Diner and explore a bit of this part of Chicago while we're at it. It's a very nice place - i think it's called either Wrigleyville or Lincoln Park - with quaint shops and tobacconists aplenty. Clarke's is a nice place, too, with a beautiful view of the El at sunset. Dinner was nice, but nothing close to the god damn concert we were missing.
And to top it all off, the Cardinals lost, 8-4.
I blame this entire debacle on the Cubs.
Apparently Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney is married to Ann Davies.
Yesterday afternoon,
ins0mnesiac,
davyjoneshocker, and
edfnblair traveled to the local chapter of the Izaak Walton League of America for some good ol' fashioned trap shooting. With shotguns. The big nice guy who taught me how to shoot the last time greeted us and set us up with some guns and ammo and we headed out to the range. My camera is at home so maybe later i'll facebook some pictures of us there. We each shot 25 birds, separated into rounds of 5 where we would rotate and periodically switch weapons.
Total scores were thus:
Ed: 11
Greg: 15
Martin: 15
Scott: 15
I started with one perfect round before faltering and completely losing it when i switched to a pump action rather than the breechloader i'm used to. Martin held his own, and Greg showed that he can make the transition from riflery to shotgunnery smoothly. Ed, although getting a slow start, kicked it into gear in the end, when years of Counterstrike began to rear its ugly head in the form of his newfound gunnery skills. We returned home with talk of starting a Gun Club on campus, either that or a "Gun Safety Club," "Trap Shooting Club," "Ultimate Trap Shooting Club," or just "Ultimate Club" to be sneaky. We also toyed with the idea of forming an alliance with the current frisbee players, enlisting them to throw clay pigeons while we shoot over their heads and shower them with shrapnel. We also noted the irony immediately apparent in my potential co-chairmanship of both the Gun Club and Peace & Justice. The proposal to stash our weapons in the Peace House was shot down rather quickly.
Anyway. At 3:30 i picked up
me_sa_dorchadas and we headed towards Chicago and our rendezvous with Destiny (aka Circa Survive, Saves the Day, and Moneen). Of course, toll bottlenecks cost us a good half an hour of our time. Some things i have to tell you about smoking in a car in a traffic jam: it's tremendously calming, with a pair of aviators i'd look about as badass as Teppei Teranishi does in this picture, and it makes the horribly polluted air of the interstate feel cool and refreshing in comparison.
So we're turning onto Irving Park off the Kennedy Expressway, and the whole exit is backed waaay up onto the interstate. Whatever. I get in line, turn east, and immediately become lost. After several minutes of searching for a recognizable street, we end up about thirty blocks north and west of the Metro. I head east to Clark, and head south to find parking. Meanwhile, the telltale signs are becoming more and more obvious. An abnormally large police presence. Pedestrians clad in red, white, and blue. Hispanic people waving orange flags into crammed lots with the sign, "PARKING: $30." Banners with a simplified "C" hanging from apartment windows. We get to the Metro, drive another block, and we discover the source of this ungodly mass of people: Wrigley Field.
We have managed to land ourselves at a concert within a block of a fucking Cubs game. Better yet, who else are they playing but the Cardinals.
Many people who grew up outside of Illinois might not understand the shit i have to go through as a Saint Louis fan living in Chicago territory. From the "Albert Takes It In The Pujols" shirt vendors to the toll lady who tells me that the Belvidere toll is "$1.10 for a Cardinals fan," i'm truly sick of Northern Illinois (sans Laura). This kind of bullshit is unknown in Michigan, cos the Lions and Tigers suck collective nuts (although the Tigers are doing kind of well so far), and now that the NHL is no more, all the Red Wings fans are kind of bored. At least i'm not a Yankees fan in Boston (hem hem
me_sa_dorchadas), so i don't have to worry about being hauled out of the subway and beaten with shoes.
So we spend the better part of an hour searching for parking. None is to be had. We finally park in a garage near Lakeshore and walk about ten to fifteen blocks to the damn concert to find that it is sold out. FUCK. Poor planning seems to be my motto for the semester. Eamonn and i briefly debate whether or not to see the game, but instead decide to find Clarke's Diner and explore a bit of this part of Chicago while we're at it. It's a very nice place - i think it's called either Wrigleyville or Lincoln Park - with quaint shops and tobacconists aplenty. Clarke's is a nice place, too, with a beautiful view of the El at sunset. Dinner was nice, but nothing close to the god damn concert we were missing.
And to top it all off, the Cardinals lost, 8-4.
I blame this entire debacle on the Cubs.
Apparently Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney is married to Ann Davies.