(with all apologies to Billy Joel)
Tonight I began my Christmas shopping. No, that is not a typo. BEGAN.
While out and about after work, I stopped off for a meal at an "American cuisine" restaurant (read: sit-down restaurant with a bar for sports fans). Behind me and over to my left was a gaggle of giggly girls. Lots of "shut UP y'all" and "yeah but was he looking at her like she says he was?" and "do you think he likes me? really?" They were a tad loud, enough that I caught a couple of other patrons rolling their eyes in their direction. While part of me wanted to go back and say, "Sweeties, please use your indoor voices!" I also remembered that it wasn't too long ago that I was that age -- out with my friends, obnoxious as hell (I'm sure) to all adults in my vicinity, and louder than I needed to be. God knows that M, T, and I were boy-crazy, giggly and goofy, and having the time of our life, not caring about anyone else around us. I smiled at the memories that brought, especially since we've grown and I have not stayed in touch with them as much as I ought to have done.
Also off to my left and a little closer toward me was someone -- don't know the gender or age -- who enjoyed all the songs that were coming over the speaker. How do I know? Because this person sang along every now and again. Good voice, too, especially on Al Wilson's "Show and Tell." They were playing a good 70s/80s mix with an occasional holiday song thrown in. I could have hugged the music programmer for that reason alone.
And it was a nice moment in the midst of the holiday hoo-ha and madness. Thank God for those moments.