Of Josh Groban, Country Style...

So, Josh Groban's newest album has been playing non-stop at work, which is fine by me, as the album is actually quite good, and not nearly as bombastic as some of his other recordings.  I thought highly enough of the album to buy it for my down-time, and tonight I was listening the second track, "The Bells of New York City," which strikes me as a beautiful, haunting, melancholy Christmas song.  It's a November album, really; I couldn't see enjoying this in the middle of July.  It needs to be cold and gray outside so you can hole up against the darkness and the rain and just curl up in the songs.  Anyhoo, it reached the lyrics...

"Sing to me one song for joy, and one for redemption
and whatever's in between that I call mine..."

And as I'm luxuriating in the baritone and my pajamas and a cup of tea, wondering what my song of joy and redemption would be, I hear a strangely discordant sound. 

I pick up my ears, and I hear it again.

And I tell myself that it's winter, I couldn't be hearing what I think I'm hearing.

Then it happens again.

So I stop the music, open my front door, and there on my doormat was an itty bitty frog, croaking away with gusto.  He missed the memo that he should be hibernating somewhere warm and muddy, and instead was giving a bravura performance on my doormat.

And I thought to myself...well, if there ever was something that was my song of joy and redemption, it would be the murky croak of an animal that represents this goofy county that I love so very much.  I can't think of a better Christmas caroler, or a more fitting song to sing.

Then I shut the door and dove back under my blankets at the desk, because dear Lord in heaven it is COLD.  Whimsy is fine, frostbite...not so much.