This is way off-topic, but I feel the need to vent a little bit and maybe save somebody from some frustration and, not to be too dramatic, loss of life.

I have been working on an adventure weekend myself.  I live in San Jose, California.  My brother-in-law lives in Seattle, Washington.  They are approximately 900 miles apart.  My brother-in-law recently offered to give our family his old car, a 1997 Toyota Camry, because it is an automatic, and much easier for my two teenage daughters to learn to drive in than my manual-transmission Saturn or my wife's mini-van.  We took him up on it, and I went to collect it this weekend.  My plan was near-perfect.  I would fly up to get the car on Saturday, and drive 11 hours on Sunday, in the first leg, to Chico, California.  That would leave me just 4 - 5 hours of driving on the last leg, and...very important, I would be able to make a pilgrimage to the Sierra Nevada brewpub in Chico on the way (I trust that some of you out there know the sacred ground that I am talking about).

Well, after 11 hours of driving, my car broke down on the off ramp in Chico!  When I hit the brakes to stop there, the car felt like to took a couple of bounce off of concrete, and made some horrible grinding sounds (most of the sounds arrived through bone conduction -- it felt brutal).  I turned the corner and drove another thirty feet, grinding the whole way, until I could pull over on a safe spot.  I jumped out, expecting to see a flat tire and a ground-up tire rim.  I was surprised to see that the tires looked pretty normal.  I looked underneath, and there was nothing dragging or smoking...what the hell was going on?  This wasn't like anything I had seen before.

At this point, I called AAA -- and I would like to make a plug for joining AAA if you drive much at all.  Since I was in my 20s, and they towed me 50 miles out of the desert in Nevada, I have been sold on them.  On three very important occasions for me, they have turned a very bad situation into a mere story and a lesson learned.  And, the people who come to collect you are always great.

But anyway, while I was waiting (only 15 minutes, but they called me back three times), I solved the mystery of what failed on the car.  I am not a car mechanic by any  means, but as an engineer, I was analytic enough to notice that the front brakes looked different from each other.   By comparing them, I could tell that the front right disk brake calipers had fallen off and jammed into the wheel.  My brother-in-law had them repaired just a week before.  Discussing this with the AAA tow-truck-driver, we agreed that the mechanic who did that job must not have properly adjusted/attached the calipers -- there is no way that they could have done the job right, having worked on these brakes one week before.

The lesson to be learned is this -- the mechanics at brake and tire shops are not as qualified as those at full-service shops.  They get paid less and they have less training.  I have a mechanic that I trust, and who has incredible diagnostic skills, but I admit that I do the same as my brother-in-law here.  I just had my brakes repaired at the tire shop across the street from where I work.  My mechanic costs more, and (even more important) he takes longer, and I thought that I was saving some time.

After I got to the wonderful Sierra Nevada brewpub (well worth the pilgrimage for you craft beer lovers!), I had some great Celebration Ale, and I remembered all of the tight situations that I experienced in that nearly-700-mile drive.  There were several situations where I was flying through some hairpin turns in the mountains, with semi-trailers in the right lane and boxed in front and back, where if my brake calipers had flown off, making crazy noises, and well, giving me less braking ability...I went a little pale thinking about it.  It could have easily turned out badly.

I am a total atheist, but I must admit that the whole experience made me consider Divine Provenance, and as usual for me, a closer inspection reveals that, well, the odds were in favor of what happened.  For most of the journey, I had only tapped on the brakes.  The damn things fell apart when I finally leaned on them.  But the message I want to leave you with is, put the odds in your favor and spend money to go to a car mechanic that you can trust.  I still have to talk to my mechanic, to ask him what qualifications are important.  I will leave an addendum to this when I do that, but I wanted to leave this message while I am (stuck in Chico and) focused on this scary incident.

A couple of weeks ago, I posted asking for advice on sitting in the bleachers at Wrigley - here.

I wanted to thank everyone who responded to that post, with a wealth of excellent advice.  I had the same experience when I asked for advice before going to the playoff game at Dodger Stadium last October - great advice from all of you, and one of the great values of Bleed Cubbie Blue.

Of course, it rained cats and dogs before the game that day, so we had to improvise on the "when to arrive" part.  We got wet enough as it was.  We ended up sitting in the upper centerfield bleachers with a lot of Indians fans next to us, which was a pain for many innings, but got MUCH better late.  As you know, it was one of the great Cubs games this season - big comeback, reminiscent of the comeback game against the Rockies last year.  If anyone saw a W flag in the upper centerfield bleachers after the game that day, that was us.

I tried to stop by and say Hi to Al and "Doggie Stalker" that day.  I think that I remember what Al looks like from pictures here, and I didn't see him.  And without spotting him, I did not have a hope of finding the rest of his entourage.  Were you all at the ballpark that day?

In one week, the game against Cleveland on June 19, I will be sitting in the Wrigley field bleachers for the first time in over 20 years.  I live in California, and have family members in downstate Illinois.  We are all meeting up that day, in 7 bleacher seats.  My questions:

- How early should we get there to get good seats? (...the earliest we should get there)

- How early should we get there just for the 7 of us just to sit together? (...the latest we should get there)

- How early do the bleachers open, so how much time do you have to spend waiting in line?

- Any other tips that you could give for enjoying the bleachers experience would be much appreciated.

I am getting on a flight to Burbank in an hour and a half to go to the game tonight.  It might have been the martini last night, but I have already forgotten the horror of game 2.  I hope that the boys can do the same.

The main thing that we have going for us right now is the depth of our starting pitching.  This was the same thing that the Red Sox had when they pulled off their improbable series win against that other Joe Torre team.

I expect a hostile, derisive crowd in Dodger Stadium, but I will put on the colors on none the less.  I am going not because I have a great feeling that we are going to pull this off, but because the next game is the whole point.

My favorite quote for times like this:

When you're going through hell, keep going.

- Winston Churchill

I am a Cubs fan in San Jose, California, and I will be coming down to Dodgers Stadium for playoff game #3.  I have never been to Chavez Ravine.  Are there any local Cubs fans, or Dodgers fans looking in, who could give recommendations for where to eat, drink, rent a hotel room? Any good sports bars near the stadium?

I will be flying in to Burbank airport Saturday at noon, flying out Sunday at noon - so I could get a hotel room anywhere between there and the stadium.  It just has to be decent, since I don't expect to spend a lot of time there.  A fellow Cubs fan from Santa Barbara will be driving in and meeting me.

Thanks in advance!