Thursday, November 3, 2016
I turned 39 this week. Went to my Grandmothers house and painted the sunrise in the Beuna Vista Grasslands. Any artist who is worth a damn goes off on a bender and must experience the tenuousness of life. It makes the sunrises more potent. I listen to a lot of baseball when I paint. And I don't like the Cubs. This is an account from last night. I think all of these type of things end up in the long run helping me be a better artist..... Usually when there is that much hype and things come together for a potentially big moment, the moment passes and the build up wasn't worth it. Like pretty much every football game. The Cleveland/Chicago game 7 of the World Series was something I will never forget. Spectacular!!!! I was in one of the oldest bars in La Crosse WI. Drove my old car, but basically knew I was fucked when the odometer had the number 48908. Like 1908. The old front room with a tin ceiling was mainly Cleveland fans or anti-Cubs fans like me. The back room was Cubs fans. The place was electric and everyone was tense. Good natured and then just good and drunk. Everybody just seemed to have such a good time. When Cleveland tied it up the first time you knew this was going to be great. When Cleveland tied it up the second time, the game like went from really great to an all timer. A true classic. Then the fucking rain delay- which probably saved the Cub's ass. Everyone only drank more. It was overwhelming. Everyone was texting me and people I hadn't heard of in years were all excited. Then the victory. We brought in a bottle of this shit alcohol they drink in Chicago called Malort. Tastes like earwax and chemicals. 70 proof. The bartender gave free shots to all the Cubs fans. They lined em up and they had no idea what was coming. It was a great joke that we surely thought very funny. Katie said they all immediately chugged their beers to wash away the taste. Go Cubs Go was played on the jukebox. I even was nice enough to play We Are The Champions. I got plastered. Katie had to drive my car.I Puked in my yard. Puked in a bucket. Slept alone. It was awesome. Nothing like a great baseball game, and that was the greatest. A truly historical moment in our culture. I was glad to be an artist and not have a job to go to so I could absorb all of it. I don't even regret puking, which hasn't happened in years. I was glad to see baseball shine so brightly. Congratulations from the bottom of my heart. It was so awesome, I of all people, even enjoyed seeing the Cubs win the World Series.