Sweet Caroline...in St. Louis?

To drive 10 hours within 24 to go see a World Series Red Sox game in St. Louis, or to not?

These are the life questions my husband and I find ourselves asking each other.

Do we have the energy?  Man, that's a long drive.  But it's the Red Sox.  In the World Series.

And how blessed we are to have such questions, for it won't always be that we're capable of living so spontaneously.

Our sacrifice would be substantial: sleep, energy, and time--all things most rare and valuable to the husband right now.

Not much can compete with our couch and a cup of cider with which to watch the games.

But what an opportunity to watch the Red Sox play live in the World Series.

The other night, Preston and I finished watching Fiddler on the Roof (it took us a bit).  I felt discouraged after the movie, so Preston played some clips from Singing in the Rain to cheer me up. What distinctly different movies.  How different our human experiences.  How vast the scope of culture.  How overwhelming and energizing and wonderful is this world.  I want to tangle my fingers in its threads, to capture its stories, to fiddle in its offerings.

Yet how much can I explore from the comfort of my home, and how much to find through extremities of time and effort?

Stadium lights.  Hot dogs.  Baseball caps, scarves, and mittens.  Napoli and Ortiz knocking the ball out of the park.  Camaraderie, all in the name of the game.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I came into this marriage with my own Yankees jersey.  But I was never a die hard, and Preston's Sox Fever is contagious--that excitement and loyalty towards his team is hard to beat.

And it will always be his team, which makes me think maybe I should let it be mine.

So, do we go?