I've done more than my share of tailgating over the years, especially at White Sox games. Normally someone brings a grill and some meat, someone else brings a cooler full of beer, and everyone hangs out for like an hour, plays the bean bag toss game and then heads into the game.

So when I showed up for my first Bears tailgate ever, I was thinking it would be a fun time, but nothing too notable. Oh was I wrong. The parking lot south of Soldier Field was transformed into one giant outdoor kitchen, with smoke rising up from innumerable grills, and flags flying everywhere. The unnaturally warm weather sure did put me in a drinkin' mood, and by 9:45 I'd cracked my first beer of the day. The spread that these people put on was quite impressive--italian sausage, brats, the best brisket I've ever had, shrimp cocktail, the usual assortment of chips and veggie trays and a fully stocked bar. Wow. We managed to stumble into the game just before kickoff, and what started as a good day only got better as the Bears just destroyed the Vikings, spurred on by the return of Brian Urlacher and the studliness of Chad "Spiccoli" Hutchsinson.

As fate would have it, my sister was at the game, twice as drunk as me, and sitting in far better seats, so we went down and said hello to her and got to watch the Bears stuff the Vikes at the goal line from about 30 feet away. Very cool--I've been to a lot of football games, but have never seemed to have very good seats for them.

Other than that, nothing too exciting in spite of a pretty packed schedule this weekend. Maggie's getting big and we still don't have a Christmas tree. If the rain holds off, that might be tonight's project--I'm determined to get a real one if it kills me.

Talked to Mom last night and asked her what she wants for Christmas since we're seeing them this coming weekend--of course, she wants this super-rare Pearl Jam CD(she's got this odd fixation with Eddie Vedder all of a sudden) and something by Neil Young that I don't think exists. Oh yeah, and a cheese slicer.