The sky is purple. As the sun rises, a dazed-looking teenage boy wakes up. He’s off in the forest, surrounded by rolling hills, in his pajamas, his bike lying next to him. The kid wakes up and smiles to himself, enjoying some private joke. Then the song starts up. As the kid rides his bike back home, a suburban idyll unfolds before him in ecstatic slow motion. Middle-aged women power-walk past manicured lawns. A smirking father uses a leaf-blower to mess up his teenage daughter’s hair. A little girl bounces on a backyard trampoline while her mother, in a nearby lawn chair, reads Stephen King’s It. Continue reading