Monday, December 24, 2012


Arguably, the most exhilarating hangover from adolescence is Christmas Eve. Namely, the appearance of TAFKATC at Christmas Eve. He'd call my mother's best friend to say he was coming round for dinner and every even-numbered year, I would actually manage to see him and it would be the greatest thing, ever.

I would swoon quite visibly. I would blush quite consciously. Due to the infrequency of our encounters, I would stockpile musical anecdotes throughout the year for the Christmas Eve unwrapping. I had all year to imagine his responses to my stories, but my imaginings had the tendency to be fanciful and inaccurate.

There are things you'd always predict, the low-light and the panettone, the delicate glassware and the lengthy glances. There would always be a flirtatious wit and ambiguous regard. What I couldn't predict was his actual character, quite distinct from my whimsical daydream of a musical obsessive.

I know there's no need to wait for that one night to gush about music. Not any more, at least. Yet, he will always command an impossibly high level of consequence. In spite of my claims that his appeal exists solely in an imagining, his presence manages to indulge that perennial suspicion that something once existed... and it was real.


  1. I think "the low-light and the panettone" just became one of my all time favourite phrases.

  2. To be honest with you, it probably should have been cannoli, not panetonne because that's the only Christmas food I have... and even then I don't think it's real Christmas food.