So it’s the night before Acen, and my mom comes downstairs to ask me a question.
“Who’s driving tomorrow?”
“My buddy Joe is, in fact, driving tomorrow.”
“Oh good, I was just going to come down and warn you that driving in Chicago is more difficult.”
Are we really going to have this conversation?
“Uh, mom, I think I know that.”
“No, it’s really more difficult.”
Apparently yes, we did have that conversation. And it ended with her being offended that I knew Chicago was a big city with large quantities of traffic. I can accept you want to protect me. But please don’t do it unless you’ve thought through it a bit to see if it’s actually going to help me or if it’s going to get you upset at me because I already knew. Telling me there’s lots of traffic in Chicago, is silly. Telling me we’re going to be traveling on some toll roads is not. But you didn’t tell me that, I just happened to see it on the map that I printed off a few minutes ago.
Anyway, Acen tomorrow, I plan to be late enough to miss opening ceremonies but not so late as to be gauche. Which puts it around 2 PM. And given the way they monkey around with badges there, I probably won’t get anything done until 3. Whose Line is from 9:30 PM Saturday to whenever we decide we’re tired of entertaining the crowd.
