Short, and Sweet...
...And Sentimental, too.
It's been nearly two decades since Laurel and I realized we'd never be conscious at midnight on this or any other night of the year, as we both started drifting into a walking coma at the KLON New Year's Eve party at Indian Wells at around a quarter to eleven.
That said, this brilliant work, by the great Frank Loesser, to my ears the greatest transliterator of the American language into the popular song, has been earworming me for a few days now--Margaret Whiting's version, to be sure--and I found myself a little teary, jabbed by its perfect and subtle blend of want song and sentimental journey.
So for those of you I count as friends, as colleagues, as fellow travelers, on this bumpy road to love, and yes, to happy destiny, whatever that destiny may be, I offer you and yours this song--and suggest you find whatever version of it most perfectly suits you—and with it, best wishes for whatever the future holds for us, as we push on into the dark.
Maybe it's much too early in the game
Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same
What are you doing New Year's, New Year's eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night
Welcoming in the New Year, New Year's Eve?
Maybe I'm crazy to suppose
I'd ever be the one you chose
Out of the thousand invitations you received...
...Ah, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance
What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?
Oh, what are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?
As ever, I remain,
Howard Victor Chaykin--a Prince, whose coach turns into a pumpkin well before midnight.