Just one more thing. I know, I know. I've blogged my brains out today. Clearly. They're splattered there on the floor and the only real reason Stella is not lapping them up is because she prefers the first edition words of famous authors on archival bound paper. Not splattered brains. Lucky for me.
We all know, or those who have been paying attention at least know, that I followed those boys who called themselves the Grateful Dead around for far too many years and way too many brain cells. I spent many a New Year's Eve celebrating with the band until the wee hours of the morning and I am still, honestly, at a bit of a loss when New Year's Eve rolls around each year and I realize that I will not be spending it in jam-packed arena with all my best friends writhing and grooving to songs I've heard at least a hundred times before.
Given all of that, you'd think that I'd be sharing with you my favourite moment, my favourite song from all those nights spent grooving with my very favourite of bands.
This isn't about all those New Years Eves, though.
This is about another New Years Eve. Spent with one of my other most favourite musicians. A man who sings with passion and soul and a glory that makes my spine tingle. This is about a New Years Eve spent in an intimate coastal lodge, before a roaring fire, dancing with angelic children and earth goddesses and mountain men. This is about a New Years Eve that made me realize that music, all music, is a gift that will transcend even the most heartbreaking and saddest and loneliest of personal moments and remind us that life is still beautiful, that it is still a gift, that it is to be, well, lived.
This is about a New Years Eve spent wrapped and embraced in the arms of my people, of my tribe. They really and truly love me. Just as I am. Then, now and forever.