I’m very jazzy this afternoon.  I heard the Stevie Wonder/India Arie duet of “Merry Christmas to You” on the radio, so I’m singing it.  Somebody actually came by and wondered when I had brought a radio in.  But I really think they were trying to hit me up for fudge.

I LOVE CHRISTMAS.  Gosh, it’s wonderful.  And my favorite part of the season is undeniably the music.  I love singing it, humming it, having it play in shopping malls.. it’s great.  My favorite thing ever is hearing songs that, because you only hear them once a year, stir up memories.

Ours is “Another Auld Lang Syne” by Dan Folgerberg.  Our adoration of Dan Folgerberg was what kind of superficially got us talking.  Not many people would be able to pull his name out of thin air, nor name some of his lesser known works, but we both could.  It was a-dork-able.  Truly.

I still remember this like it was yesterday.. walking into the Playhouse, seeing him at the stage manager’s table stage left, and wandering over.  “We missed you at Open Mic Night last night,” I told him.

He smiled, “Yeah, I heard you sang.  I heard you were wonderful.  I’m really sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“Do you sing?” I asked him.

“I could really jam to some Dan Folgerberg,” he said, smiling.  It was as if a choir of angels began behind us.

“You KNOW Dan Folgerberg?!” I asked, incredulously.

“I LOVE ME SOME DAN FOLGERBERG,” he answered.

Our first date was about a week later, at Open Mic Night.  It was such a fantastic night; I was the belle of the ball.  I sang with Delle for a bit, all of my close friends were there, and there was this guy.  I felt such a deep, immediate connection with this guy.  He kept repositioning the lights to be more flattering on me while I was singing, but in reality, he was just finagling for a better seat.  A closer seat. 

That night, he drove me home.  We sat, our teeth chattering, in his Pathfinder.  And “Another Auld Lang Syne” came on the radio.  We giggled.  No matter how aggressive he’s been since then, I win the crown of initiating the first kiss.  He said he felt like he was clearly out of his league, and was scared to make a move.  I, however, crawled across the median and softly laid my lips on his.  Maybe it was the heat, the synthetic fibers, the fact I was wearing fake hair.. but the spark was undeniable.  It was not static electricity.

Our year is coming up ever so fast.  About a week from now.  And I’m still feeling the spark every time he’s close to me.. and Dan Folgerberg still gives me butterflies.