Last Wednesday I was fortunate enough to be watching one of the greatest bands of all time. U2 was in town. By “in town” I mean Baltimore, and as a Northern Virginian, that’s a little bit of a stretch for me. However, geographic location is a moot point. The important fact was that U2 had decided to play in a relatively easy location for me to get to. Why they chose Baltimore, my friends and I could only guess. But there they were before us; Bono, The Edge, and the other two guys that no one really cares about. We paid premium dollars for our seats at M&T Bank stadium, home of the Baltimore Ravens. $30 a person was good enough to get us into the nose-bleeds. Up there, the enthralling tunes of Where the Streets Have No Name reached us with only slight dissipation. We had only the horns and screeching of a nearby CSX railroad line to contend with. It was a beautiful night. The breeze where we were was great, we could still make out U2 as they played, and if we turned around we had a lovely view –if you can call it lovely- of Baltimore. We marveled at how the stadium, save for a few seats, was packed to capacity. It was probably beyond capacity, as there were throngs of fans on the field, smashed together like sardines. It was then that we realized why U2 was in Baltimore. FedEx field, for lack of a better word, sucks. And so I sat there admiring the Ravens’ stadium and longing for a proper home for the Redskins; a home that I would enjoy going to, and that maybe U2 (no pun intended) would enjoy as well.