Duke, Dinah and those crazy dreams

I don't know why a person takes to certain songs.

But they do, and it's magical and palpable and a few other "ables" that I can't think of this rainy Monday morning.

Songs are time machines -- they take you back. Songs are old friends -- they comfort you when you need it, or brighten up an otherwise cloudy day. Songs are special.

I don't guess I can tell you much more about "Teardrops." But let me say this. I heard it last night -- in person from its composer -- and, although I've had a night and part of a morning to think about it, I still can't describe just how beautiful it was.

It's a melancholy song, full of sad imagery and poignant lyrics. And yet, when I hear it, my heart leaps into my throat and I never do want the moment to slip away. The lyric and the artist's phrasing and the band and the moment all came together, creating one of those beautiful pieces of time that you file away somewhere, and think about on rainy days.

Andrea showed up after awhile; she can always brighten up a rainy night. I even saw my cousin Jordan, who came in long enough to say hello and disappeared before I could tell him good-bye.

I drove home in the pouring rain. Somewhere between Broadway and Brown Gap Road I felt an old, familiar feeling lodge itself somewhere amid my blue eyes and jeans, in that organ that supposedly just pumps blood to the body.

I sat up awhile, trying to dull the senses with Duke and Dinah, failing miserably. Even "Harlem Nocturne" didn't work.

Finally I drifted off to dream, lost in the feeling, going to the one place where the sun orbits 'round the moon and crazy dreams come true.