Newsworthy

Hi folks.  As an initial matter, my apologies for my absence.  A nasty, week-long bout of the flu followed by visiting company has kept me from my daily rants.  While I am quite certain you can make it through the day without me, I'm also certain you would do anything to be distracted from your day jobs, so I apologize.

One of the first things I did upon arriving in Montana was set up my satellite TV.  I'm not kidding--before I had furniture, I had my receivers ready to go.  This may seem like quite an expense for someone counting their dimes, and it is.  But to understand me, you have to understand my obsession with football (American football--I'm not that hip).  I live for football.  And, more particularly, I live for the Chicago Bears.  My dad and I have shared season tickets for a number of years now, and we have this little fantastic family of season ticket holders around us.  And you haven't seen anything until you have seen one or more of the women of our clan climb up the steep stairs in the middle of winter, huge pregnant, navigating ice and stupid drunk fans because that's who we are.  So, point being, I needed to know that I could watch my Bears anywhere, any time (we'll talk about the potential lockout when I don't want to hurt someone over it).

One of the more odd pitfalls of going this route for television viewing, however, is that I do not get local channels.  Seriously.  I get the networks, but they're out of...Manhattan.  I'm not kidding.  Every night I watch the news and learn of the latest caper in Brooklyn or how Central Park was a bit too hot for roller blading today.  It's very strange.  And I love it.  I actually got into a tiff with someone here because she couldn't understand why I wouldn't demand to know what is going on where I live.  Well, first, I figure if something is going on, one of the neighbors will tell me.  Second, nothing is going on.  So there you go.

That said, I have very much missed the Chicago news.  I have no idea why, particularly since it terrified me after I had a kid.  It's pretty harsh, let's just say.  And I technically get my fix through the Tribune website.  But until tonight, I had felt very, very displaced.  In general, these days I'm not quite certain who I am.  I'm working on it, mind you, but everything I knew is different, so it's a slow process.

Anyway, last night I was feeling like myself more than normal, as I was watching the Cubs get spectacularly beaten by the Cardinals and was having a glass of wine.  Then, unlike most nights, I did not immediately go to bed when the game was over.  To my surprise, I had forgotten that the station showing the games also has Chicago news (I never said I was very bright).  So, delighted, I watched.  Also to my surprise, it was heaven.  The news wasn't any lighter than normal (muggings, shootings, train wrecks) but the voices and the places and the people were familiar.  I had spent over a third of my life getting to know Chicago as home.  And I was thrilled to see that I could still touch home, even from miles away.  It wasn't my friends, or my house, or the life I knew, but it was a tiny bit of me.  I suddenly remembered a bit of the woman who I had been for so long.  It was heaven. Who knew--something so insignificant as sights and sounds can center you a bit.  Look for the familiar.  They'll help you navigate the foreign.