Budapest sounds better.

Shoot. Yesterday, I missed the opportunity to get to know two people from Budapest. A bit better. Because of threatening rain, they left the Cubs-White Sox exhibition game early. To avoid getting soaked. But turns out, they didn't have to leave. The rain never materialized. I had planned talking to the loving middle-aged husband and wife after the game. They were seated in front of me. I knew when they sat down that they were foreign born. Because of their accents. Wasn't exactly sure from where. But I soon found out. Budapest. They left and came to America while Hungary was still under communist control. Apparently settling in the Chicago area. Where they became Cubs fans. Seems to me, that especially goes for her. She applauded every good play by the Cubs. Very demonstrative. Just the opposite of what I am at a Cubs game. I often pay more attention to the fans than to the game. Especially if it's a boring game. Which happens when the Cubs lose. As they did once again. In extra innings. But I salvage something. Learning a little about the people sitting around me. The guy on my right is a farmer. In northern Illinois. Near the Iowa border. He came to the game in shortsleeves. Despite a game time temperature of 48 degrees. A cold front had moved into the Sonoran Desert. After a high of 80 degrees two days earlier. Like the Budapest couple, the farmer left early, too. Presumably because he was shivering. Anyway, my Italian true love and I once talked of going to Budapest. For a long weekend. Because she has access to a friend's apartment in Budapest. Maybe next winter. Or even next spring. Even if I have to forsake my dear Cubs. Budapest sounds better than the ballpark on a cold day. --Jim Broede