I’m floating in a dream sequence. It’s not the least bit unpleasant. There is music. These are the words I’m hearing:

There’s a place for us
Somewhere, a place for us
Peace and quiet and open air
Wait for us,

There’s a time for us
Someday, a time for us
Time together with time to spare
Time to learn, time to care

We‘ll find a new way of living
We’ll find a way of forgiving

There’s a place for us
A time and a place for us
Hold my hand and we’re halfway there
Hold my hand and I’ll take you there
Somehow, Someday, Somewhere

You might recognize the words to the song “Somewhere” from West Side Story, with music by Leonard Bernstein and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. The particular version I’m hearing is by Tom Waits from the “Blue Valentine” project. (Hey, it’s my dream sequence and I can pipe in what ever music I want.)

In MY dream, however, the play is titled “North Side Story”, and the place is, of course, Wrigley Field. Someday is this past baseball season. Or the one before that. Or any season before that. Or next year. In my dream, time is pretty fluid.

The Chicago Cubs’ 2008 Postseason ended a few hours ago, but I’m feeling OK. My secret is something which I will refer to in the comedic sense as “A Paradigm Shift”.

Simply stated, I’m not thinking of this very short postseason as a big disappointment. Rather, I’m thinking of the 2008 Regular Season as the most spectacular Chicago Cubs Baseball Season of my life. I’m serious. And it works for me. I’m just happy that I was here to enjoy it.

The way I (choose to) see it, we were doing just fine, and things were chugging along magnificently, until these Extremely Vulgar BiCoastal Media Jackals appeared out of nowhere, crashed our party, and brought everything to a screeching halt. Full stop.

Because up until then, it was our party. They hijacked our party and it became their disgusting “Celebration of BS Fest”. And that’s where I get off. In case I wasn’t sure before, when I saw an entire stadium full of people waving white “Hankies”, that’s when I knew for sure that I was in the wrong place. And the directors at TBS are showing this as if to demonstrate that “something is really happening here”. Which only emphasizes that “nothing is happening here”.

I’m not going to play “The Blame Game” in trying to explain why the Cubs’ postseason ended so prematurely. I suppose there are some lingering questions which a reasonable person might reasonably ask one’s self. Such as:
– What happened to Sean Dempster in Game 1? Answer, I don’t know.
– What happened to our entire infield in Game 2? Answer, I don’t know.
– How come our leadoff man went 0 for 5 in Game 3? Answer, I don’t know.
– How come our leadoff man went 1 for 14 in the Playoffs? Answer, I don’t know.
– How come the #2 hole in our lineup went 2 for 12 in the Playoffs? Answer, I don’t know.
– Could the Cubs’ Hitting Coach use a little additional help? Answer, I don’t know.
– How come Ted Lilly and Kerry Wood and Reed Johnson saw no action at all in the Playoffs? Answer, once again, I don’t know.

I’m not blaming anyone.

The thing is, there was this enormous positive energy generated during the regular season. And then, in what seemed like only a heartbeat, all of that positive energy was redirected by events into an even bigger negative energy. But, as Albert Einstein demonstrated, energy doesn’t go away. It just changes form. Or it doesn’t.

So we can use this enormous energy, currently negative, and rechannel it into something equally but oppositely positive, like say, an artistic creation or a web site creation, or something. Or, as Duke Ellington said, you can sublimate the energy from a negative experience, using it as the inspiration to create a positive musical composition.

Or, if you are not careful, the negative energy can auger in deeper, dragging you downward to depths of depression from which you might not recover. I would not recommend this last course of action.

Like I said, I’m not gonna dwell on the Playoff Series. That was somebody else’s party. A Hankie party. I’m going back to my dream sequence, reliving the most spectacular Chicago Cubs regular season of my life.

I will leave you now with these thoughts, which have served me well over the past 12 hours or so, and beyond.

Do not underestimate the value of lowered expectations.

All good things come to an end.

Nothin’ Lasts Forever (by Delbert McClinton).

And never forget – tears are a form of wealth – you earned ‘em.

Rugrats in Paris full
Abandoned hd
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I'm a third generation cubs fan, living in southeastern Wisconsin.