And the way I feel tonight
I could die and I wouldn't mind
And there's something going on inside
Makes you wanna feel
Makes you wanna try
Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky
So there I was last night, 10 feet away from the Pixies, who were putting on one of the most incredible rock shows I've ever seen. After destroying the crowd with Debaser, Caribou, and Gigantic, they dove into Head On and then - it happened.
Tears.
At that same moment, halfway across the country, Curt Schilling was putting forth one of the most awe-inspiring performances any sports fan has ever seen. A blood soaked sock and excruciating pain could not stop this man. He was on a mission. And the rest of us followed happily and blindly, daring to dream, allowing our messiah to make our dreams come true.
I had sat glued to the TV until 20 minutes before the Pixies took the stage, and then went to watch one of the most influential rock bands of all time, secure in the knowledge that Schilling and the boys would hold on to their 4 run lead.
Throughout the Pixies' a! ma! zing! two hour set, I tried to stay focused. Really, I did. But while my lips were mouthing the words and my ass was shaking, my mind was imagining what it would be like to see a World Series game in Fenway. What it would be like to stand on Boylston Street with hundreds of thousands of other people that would understand what I'm feeling at that exact moment. What it would be like to see tears of joy roll down the wrinkled old faces of grandfathers and great grandfathers who have been waiting forever for this.
And then, the Pixies brought me back.
And the way I feel tonight
I could die and I wouldn't mind
And there's something going on inside
Makes you wanna feel
Makes you wanna try
Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky
Sure, it's probably not what Frank Black meant when he wrote the words so many years ago. But wait a minute. The Pixies are from Boston.
Maybe they do understand.
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