I’m blue.
Nay, I’m neither a Smurf nor suffering from the same elements poor Veruca Salt experienced in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”…I’m just plain blue…out of sorts, not myself, mopey, angsty blue.
When I woke up this morning (apparently, on the wrong side of the bed), I just knew something was off. Something was amiss. I ran through a list of possible causes in my head: Underwear? Check. Waking up at 6 AM and NOT 6:00 PM? Check. Waking up in my own bed? (My dog burrowing from beneath the covers confirmed this). Check. Then, why on earth did I feel like something wasn’t right?
My morning commute still found me feeling a little numb. Instead of dwelling amidst a sea of self-doubt and worry, I decided to be proactive in eradicating this feeling. Weapon of choice? Christmas music.
Bing. Bennett. Mathis. Carpenter. Taylor. The “Big Guns.” Yielding such impressive artillery as “Silver Bells,” “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” “Merry Christmas, Darlin’,” and ‘White Christmas,” one would think that a blue mood could effectively be annihilated by a mere 15 minutes of easy listening.
I never expected such a worthy foe to stand in my way.
The clouds stayed over my head for much of my drive this morning. Bing Crosby just shook his head, wiped his hands, and said “I got nothin’!” Tony Bennett shouted “I’m giving her all she’s got, Captain!” and beamed away. All hope seemed lost….until….
For the love of Jim Henson! The Muppets!
Miracle on 32nd Street 