This is not a review of the Billy Joel
concert at Wrigley Field July 18. Because really, what else would I
write besides that the show was amazing and Billy Joel was awesome
and adorable. And I could have told you that before the lights even came up.
Let's face it, Billy Joel could have
gone on stage and presented a two-hour dissertation on the state of
modern paint drying and I would have squealed like a teen-aged girl
goosed by the captain of the football team. Luckily for the sold-out
crowd, Billy Joel instead chose to do what he does best, delivering a
fantastic performance and generally delighting the audience. His
two-hour, hit-filled show featured 23 of his songs in addition to
“Take Me Out to the Ballgame” and “My Kind of Town (Chicago
Is).” The set list included many of my favorites because they're
all my favorites, but was light on the more obscure pieces that I like. If he
played 'em all, we'd still be there. Which would be OK by me.
But this isn't a concert review, it's a
Chicago experience review. Or more accurately a big shout out to some
of the friendly, helpful people I met during My Big Adventure Travelling to Chicago All By Myself. You often hear visitors say that Midwesterners are
friendly, and by golly, we are!
Thank you to the Chicago art museum docent who practically took me by the hand and led me to the
drinking fountain when I asked for directions. I must have looked
particularly confused and dehydrated.
Thank you to the people who didn't honk
at me when I ran the red light leaving the Millennium Park garage. In
that dark intersection beneath the overpass, I was not the only person
who clearly had no idea where they were supposed to be. In all
fairness, I didn't honk at anyone, either.
Thank you to the lady who showed me how
to use the Ventra card kiosk to get my ticket for the “L” to
Wrigley. A bazillion out-of-towners trying to get on the Red Line at
Grand at 5 p.m. and less than 10% knew how to work the ticket
machines. We all apologize for the delay, regular commuters.
Speaking of out-of-towners, it was so
nice to meet you, couple from Ontario, Canada! They traveled all the
way to Chicago for a three-day weekend planned around the Billy Joel
concert. And a ride on the “L.”
Thank you, young girl who thanked me
over and over again when I let you have the open seat on the train (I
didn't tell you I have to face forward or I get motion sickness).
She'd had a long day at work and looked exhausted. In addition to
being friendly and kind, she's a concert musician and opera singer. And obviously a Midwesterner.
Thank you to the crazy fan outside the
stadium who was over-the-moon about meeting the members of Gavin McGraw's band. You made me feel not-so-crazy. And thanks to the security guy
who let her talk to them and let me listen to her gush as we stood
outside the performers' bus area.
In fact, thank you to 99% of the staff
at Wrigley Field for being unbelievably polite, kind and friendly
(and eventually that one girl warmed up to me, too). It didn't matter
who they worked for – blue-shirt Wrigley staff, orange-shirt
Wrigley security, white-shirt extra security, green-shirt
something-else officials, white-shirt ushers – they were
all great!
Thanks to the cute orange-shirt guys
who directed me to the field entrance, the helpful orange-shirts at
the field entrance, and all the shirts who pretty much let me wander
wherever I wanted on the field and around the stadium. And offered to
take my picture! Of course it was two-hours before the concert and
they may have been as bored as I was. I am never early for anything
because I don't have the patience to wait. But think of all the nice
people I got to meet this time!
Like the usher guy who offered
to take my picture with the infield grass, the stands, the stage, the
tarp-covered pitching mound.... Oh yeah, I think he was bored.
Thanks to the end of the third-base line beer-stand guys who tried to card me for buying a bottle
of water (their first sale of the night), and then offered to take my
picture with the 355 ft. outfield wall marker. I took their picture,
too.
Thanks to the beer guy inside the
stadium who suggested a beer might help calm my upset stomach. I
didn't take him up on that, but we had a nice chat.
Big, big thanks to “not Billy
Joel” for letting me take a selfie with him. We swapped cameras and took pictures for
each other “batting” near home plate. I started to leave, but just couldn't resist.
“You know, you kind of look like Billy Joel,” I said. He shyly said he
had been getting that a lot that night. He had the right hair style,
the right goatee, the right height, and the prettiest eyes! I had to get a picture.
Thanks to the security guy who may or
may not have (I wouldn't want to get him in trouble) pointed out the
real Billy Joel standing on the balcony above us. Of course I (and everyone else) had to
take a picture, although I felt guilty
intruding on his privacy.
Thanks to the usher who told
me to go for it when I said I was thinking of asking the caterers to
give my blogger info card to Billy Joel. “What have you got to
lose?” he asked. They couldn't do it, but it was worth a shot.
Thanks, of course, to my seat-mates:
Mitch the policeman and his daughter the uber fan, and the nice guy
from England-now-Phoenix. You made me feel like part of a group. And
to the four wild girls behind us – three Sox fans who found themselves sitting in the Wrigley outfield with their
lone Cubbie friend; even the three drunk, college-age guys in front of
us who knew just about every song and were very entertaining: Thanks,
everyone!
A thanks of relief to the nice people who let me walk with them down the kind of dark and scary
alley to the “L” station after the concert because the N.
Sheffield sidewalk was packed with party-goers and equally kind of
dark and scary.
And thanks to the nice lady on the “L”
who asked her friend to give me directions when I followed the crowd
and got off the train one stop too soon. It wasn't your fault he sent me east instead of south. And thank you to the train station attendant who talked me
down when the ticket kiosk wouldn't take my quarters and I was about
to lose it! I can't believe I paid three dollars to ride three
blocks. But it was dark. And I was tired and lost-ish. Not a good
combination for me.
I'm sure there were other nice people
I'm forgetting, so a huge thank you to pretty much everyone I ran
into.
You've restored my faith in humanity.
I've always tried to “pay it
forward,” but now I'm going to have to work extra hard not just to
do that, but to “pay it up,” as well.
I'm Keeping the Faith.
