The Cubs are back in town and playing the Padres in a night game at Wrigley and I am an unfortunate refugee of baseball. Rather than fleeing political oppression or anything much more serious, I have hustled my way to Evanston to work at the University since I missed the window of time to get back to the neighborhood before the game started. I had to make the tough decision to bail out of the neighborhood rather than try to sit in one lane of incompetent Game Day traffic mixed with the usual rush hour mess. These things happen, of course, but this is just another example of how my whole life, work, rest and fun is timed with the Cubs and their season. So alas, I live in Wrigley but surrender my neighborhood to the Cubs and the fans. So close but oh so far away.