Ringo Sacks the Windy City

As i left Manila to begin the summer travels it was raining. No surprise.

Things were sunnier when i finally landed (about 24 sleepless hours later) in Chicago to a family fiesta. There was a quick onslaught of my mom, brothers, nephew, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. Towards 6 pm i was fighting off a collapse so i had a cup of coffee* to try and stay awake until 9. The next thing i know myself, the Dingo, Monica, and Colleen are out for live band karaoke until 1 am. Yes we sang, and yes we they loved us. Then Colleen declared the next day a no-work day (as if i had responsibility anyway), and we proceeded to some other establishment to shoot virtual deer with electronic shotguns. I cannot recommend a greater cure for jet-lag.

I woke up two days later behind home plate in the 10th row at a White Sox game. Lord knows that given the festivities beforehand, i could have woken up in much worse places. We completed the Chicagoland visit with running through Lincoln Park and a viewing of the Blue Man Group. I then rendezvoused with my other brother and sister-in-law to hitch a ride into the Dirty South.

* I don't what brand of coffee that was, but i want more.

When it Rains Too Much, Give Up

Rainy season has arrived in Manila. It is raining 24 hours a day, and even beginning to darken the soul. There is only one solution: a final night of extended rock by The Sexpatriots at Murphy’s, and then boarding an airplane to get the hell out of Dodge.

I hit US soil in Chicago, and provided I’m not carrying heroin (it’s not on my packing list), I’ll be released back to America to the sound of thousands of fans chanting “USA!,
USA!, USA!” After Chicago it’s on to Kentucky and then Missouri. Look for the crazy-haired guy wearing the red-white-and-blue cowboy suit. That will be me.