Pilgrimage

Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages...

--Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, General Prologue

In about two weeks, I'm going up to Detroit for a work trip. February is not well-regarded as a time to go do this, but I don't care. Do you know why I don't care?

Because I've got a ticket to see a Red Wings game while I'm up there. A ticket. To see the Wings. At the Joe Louis Arena. I'm beside myself with happy.

Everyone talks about how difficult it is to get tickets. I hopped on Ticketmaster (with all the attendant bullshit service fees they charge) and got one in a few minutes; I'm pretty sure the only reason there were any still available is that the visiting team is the Phoenix Coyotes, not exactly a big-name matchup. Me, I still think it's pretty cool, as I've never seen Phoenix play, and Wayne Gretzy is going to be there as their coach. Neato.

HOCKEY!