From the wild ride that was October 2013. For me, music is as much wrapped up with history, nostalgia, life, love, grief, joy, family, friends, comrades and experiences, as it is melodies, beats, and notes. So hopefully at least some of this will resonate with some of you, especially those among us who may have lost someone loved and cherished. This essay, written in 2013 through ecstasy and tears, is dedicated to my dad’s memory and all that he gave us. And it’s for baseball fans who love the game, too:
“Memory is but one gift that baseball gives those of us who love it, grow up with it, are comforted and nurtured by it, and who embrace its history as our own in a colorful tapestry of associations, heroes, myths, triumphs, and inevitably, losses.” — From “Diamonds Are Forever.”
Me beside two photographs my brother Chris took of my dad and me at Fenway Park on May 24, 2003. Chris gave these to me, blown up and framed, for my birthday.
Gazing out at the scenery and bonding with my ‘Fear The Beard’ at Fenway for Game 2 of the American League Division series versus the Tampa Bay Rays. Thanks to my good friend Judy Kelliher for snapping this shot while my mind was elsewhere.
World Series victory parade route, Massachusetts Avenue, October 2007.
The newest additions to the Red Sox world championship banners at Fenway park, shot by me the morning after the ’07 win.
The sign I wish I could mount in my living room. The news that the Red Sox are 2007 champions, across from Fenway Park on Brookline Avenue, Boston.
Red Sox Victory Parade 2007 detritus along Massachusetts Avenue. No, I did not arrange these newspapers…
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RPM: Jonathan Perry's Life in Analog 