December 10, 2025
It’s a bit of a rough time. First, I learned of the passing of yet another longtime colleague from the Voice of America, someone I liked and respected. These losses mount with each year and are always hard. Right now, with VOA itself fighting for life under Trump, it feels as if a big fraction of my past is slipping away.
Next, I heard the music world has lost Mavericks lead singer Raul Malo and composer / arranger Gordon Goodwin, whose Big Phat Band I loved for its lively blend of swing, funk, and fusion. All three of these folks were taken by cancer. My colleague, who’d been battling bone cancer, was determined to live to be 80 and did. Goodwin, though, was a couple of months younger than me. At 60, Malo was eleven years younger.
I know all cancer cases are different and mine is stable. Unfortunately, I’ve always been a hypochondriac, which makes it hard to keep everyday worries and low spirits from ballooning into an obsession.
Add to this a maddening case of writer’s block, plus a week of grey skies, and you’re looking at Mr. Grinch. It doesn’t help when my screens are yelling, “Get with the joy and good cheer already! The reckless spending, greed, and gluttony will continue until morale improves!”
I have to remind myself that things could be and recently have been far worse. Not many holiday seasons ago, the whole planet was terrified of sickness and death. There was also that hundred-year frozen blast that almost wrecked our little backyard pool one Christmas morning. (The pool, and our marriage, survived.)
I’m sure I’ll feel better once we cross the winter solstice and daylight starts creeping back into my office window in late afternoon. And if anything will lift me out of the muck it’s music, especially when it reminds us of the better times we’ve had and will surely have again. Happy holidays.