This morning Farmboy and Princess stopped by our house. This wasn’t a surprise. I knew they were coming. They were headed down to the Blackhawks Convention at the Hilton just a couple blocks away. Farmboy had asked me a few months ago if I wanted him to try and get some signatures on my Seabrook sweater. That was the ostensible reason for the two of them stopping by this morning.
They had more insidious plans. They kidnapped me. Press-ganged me. Shanghaied me. I was snatched. Waylaid. Spirited away!
I walk downstairs to give them the sweater and before I knew it the three of us were off to the Convention. I’d left my wallet, my keys, my phone. Everything was upstairs.
And none of that mattered. Spontaneity and the excitement to see the players, trophies and fellow hockey fans carried me over to the hotel. For my efforts I got (another) quick peek at the Stanley Cup, was able to see all of the NHL trophies, chatted up Frank Pellico and had my sweater autographed by Seabrook’s linemate, Duncan Keith.
Spontaneous Saturdays are good Saturdays.