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Archive for Euphoria

Van Gogh in Relation to Me

Van Gogh’s Starry Night

The other day I was driving home and my iPod started playing Don McLean songs. I listened to American Pie, and then Vincent came on afterwards. I always knew American Pie was his most successful song, and I’ve always determined that Vincent was at worst second best. But I had never actually pored over the lyrics of Vincent before. I didn’t know what it was about. I sat there, driving along, when I had an epiphany—you know, one of those moments where you connect the dots—and realized, for the first time in my life, that this song was about Van Gogh. It came to me during one of the last parts of the song when McLean sings “starry starry night” again. And then I realized that Daffodils was another painting by Van Gogh…and it’s well-documented that he was insane…and probably because he was in love. Wow, I was such an idiot. Truth be told, if I heard this song ten years ago I wouldn’t have realized the allusions to the paintings anyway, but it was still an eye-opener.

It reminds me of the time where my friend made the connection between the words shepherd and sheep (“oh oh sheep herd”), and it was one of those moments where I felt glad that no one else was with me, because they definitely would have laughed at me and my childish glee—“I made a connection! All by myself! Ha Ha!”—and I might never have had the chance to live it down.


Endgame on a High Note

Kevin Youklis and Julio Lugo

I’m content.

At least for today. The best day.

The day after.

Late last night, the Red Sox won the 103d World Series, and, let’s be honest, winning never gets boring. As Red Sox fans, we were bred to take every bad break as an omen for disaster. Today, all these worries have evaporated. Beckett threw Clemens-like heat with Pedro-like skill. Pedroia hit the ball like he was double the size of Richie Sexson. I will always remember Manny on the base paths, chucking his helmet off while running at three-quarter speed, Ortiz crying during the celebration, and Mike Lowell’s impish grin while being presented his MVP award.

These are the 2007 Red Sox, World Champions. And I rooted for them. In November, I started reading the rumors online, I saw us sign the antichrist, J.D. Drew. I saw Lugo adjust his crotch dozens of times against my will. We traded Willy Mo. Coco and Youklis caught everything within twenty feet of them, and I saw every out of Buccholtz’s no-hitter. This team was special. I know there were more people than me who scoured the fine print of the sports section, debating our transactions. They know too.

Out of the league’s thirty-two teams, the Red Sox, again, after four years, are World Champions! Hail, Tito! Long live Red Sox Nation!

When does spring training start again?