Same Old Lang Syne

I was out with K.B. last night, sitting at a diner in midtown, after having done a bit of the drink and mingle at a charity benefit. We were both tipsy and were sitting in a both, waiting for our midnight dinner, when the song "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg came on the diner's overhead speakers. It's a beautiful, bittersweet song, one that I've always loved. Something about Fogelberg's angst-ridden voice, the piano, and the picture he paints with his words. And then that crying saxophone at the end... Damn.

The song is about a man who runs into an old lover in a grocery store. We get inside his head and he tells us about his history with her, the passage of time, and how it's changed the both of them. It reminds me of the times I've seen ex-girlfriends, or ex-lovers, and felt the sharp sting of... what? Not regret, really. But definitely a form of sadness, of "what if," mixed with joy at seeing someone who was once special to me, who once shared a small piece of my life. It reminds me of doors opening and doors closing, of choices made and not made. "That old familiar pain." The heavy nostalgia buried beneath his words always gets to me. Especially at this time of year, when the days are dark and the year grows short.

"Now THIS song is fucking sad," I said to K.B., chuckling through sips of water. She agreed, and we listened to some of the lyrics before moving on to other subjects.

Today I read that about six hours after those words came out of my mouth, Dan Fogelberg died of prostate cancer, at age 56. And I thought, how strange that I heard that song last night. Here it is:



R.I.P., Dan.