Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Morning of the Fourth Day and a White Chevy...
12/15/2009
Back at The Wharf Hilton on Jones in San Francisco. Yesterday The Nancy and I came back to “Frisco” (familiarity breeds contempt) after a brief, albeit fruitful, visit to the Hess Winery in Napa Valley where we tasted some wines with strange names and blew about $300 on a case of wine that will take us six months to drink. We got back here just in time to check into the hotel, throw on some extra clothes, and head out to Monster Stadium to see the 49ers kick the butts of the Arizona Cardinals.
It had been at least twenty-five years since I last saw an NFL game in person, and The Nancy had never been to one. We bit the bullet and spent $166.00 for two tickets, having little idea where the seats might be located. After a grueling trip from the hotel to the stadium in bumper to bumper traffic, we finally arrived at the stadium parking lot where we drove and drove and drove. When we at last located a place to park we fixed some landmarks in our minds and began the hike to the stadium with hopes of finding the “Will Call” booth and our tickets. With heightened anxiety of ever finding our car again we walked in the direction of the largest structure in the middle of a sea of thousands and thousands of cars and trucks, and we hoped just one white Chevy.
The years had very much dulled my memory of a professional game. When you watch a game on TV the cameras will pan once in a while to some passionate fans, you know, the ones with painted faces and no shirts in freezing weather, maybe wearing some outlandish head gear or other weird attire. When attending a game, especially one where “you don’t have a horse in the race,” these passionate fans can be a bit overwhelming and at this one they were everywhere.
$166.00 for two tickets on the Zero Yard Line , $30.00 to park a mile from the entrance, $24.00 for two slices of cold, under cooked pizza and a cup of semi-flat coke, 75,000 mostly obnoxious, screaming, finger flipping fans. Priceless, my ass!
We got to see all we really wanted to see, so just after the Halftime show we made our move to escape the mayhem, readily believing our departure would greatly reduce the average IQ of those we left behind. After wadding through the mob of mostly drunk men waiting in very long lines at each of the Men’s rooms, we found an escalator to take us to the ground level from the nose-bleed level of the stadium. On the way down we looked out over the acres upon acres of cars parked helter-skelter, we were shocked to see thousands of white cars and just knew all would be Chevys. As panic began to set in we began looking for our landmarks and took off in that direction.
After a fifteen-minute walk weaving in and out row after row of vehicles of all colors and types and dodging puddle after puddle, we located our white Chevy parked next to another white Chevy just across from another white Chevy, hence the ensuing epiphany: this is indisputable evidence of a Higher Being and the power of prayer.
And that is all I have to say about that…