I've been planning a trip to Springfield for a Sunday card show for about two weeks now. I didn't sleep too well last night, which is typically what happens when I'm in full fledged anticipation mode. You see, I haven't been to a card show outside of my home town since my early high school collecting days. This was going to be an epic eighty-nine mile jaunt to 40 card dealer tables!
I woke about an hour earlier than planned this morning, but I made good use of the time as I put together a shopping list to take to the card show today.
Perhaps I'd finally put my '78 Topps set to bed? Maybe I'd finish off the Panini Triple Play set or perhaps find the last 2012 Topps Archives SPs that I need.
Would I run into one of those illustrious dime boxes that Nick is always raving about?
Hah! For sure I would fine some vintage for Wes to send in retaliation for all the PWE bombs he's been sending me.
I should have driven the extra miles to Rosemont, IL, to take in the Chicago Sun Times card show.
Why? Because three hours later this is what I returned home with:
Yep. An empty box that all of my prized purchases were supposed to fill and my unscathed shopping list.
I arrived at my destination about an hour after the doors were supposed to open and the receptionist divulged that the card show had been cancelled about thirty minutes prior to my arrival.
"Wow," I thought to myself.
"Thank you," I mumbled to the kind lady. I then did an about-face and drove my disheartened person home.
I guess that's what 3 hours in a car and $28 worth of gas will get you these days. Bummer.