Heartbroken in Chicagoland

Well, it's a crisp, sunny Sunday in Chicago. We're getting ready to head out for the Cubs game but I'm disappointed Oprah didn't call. I thought my request for new cars was pretty simple and straightforward. I'm sure almost all of us would have agreed to be guests on her show. But no call. I'm almost afraid to leave the hotel for the game in case she calls at the last minute. (My cell is dead and I'll be charging it while I'm at the game. She'll have to call me at the Doubletree.)

We could do the show early Monday morning before we leave for Appleton. If she calls.

Should I wait or should I go? I mean, just think what she's missing - a chance to have John Hardy just hanging out early on a Monday morning, chatting about going to the Cubs game, maybe comparing chicken salad recipes. Sean Campos talking about how hard it is to hook up his new Playstation 3 on the road. Mike O trying to figure out new ways to lessen his carbon footprint. (Note to Mike: I think if you were shorter that would help a little. Try it.)

I almost feel an obligation to stay and wait.

But no. The bleachers at Wrigley are calling. Some times you just have to have a little "me" time.