I had a wardrobe malfunction on New Year’s Eve. I was struggling to get into my tuxedo when a button that helps hold my suspenders to my pants decided to go somewhere on its own. This is what happens when you’re working with 1960s technology. I was wearing more moving parts than anything my wife ever wears. Deborah once again saved the day, this time with a safety pin she found in the junk drawer, and I was soon cleared for action.

When I was writing a music blog I sometimes wrote about our adventures on New Year’s Eve. I will only briefly do that here, as this is not a music blog, this is a serious blog about a serious subject, writing. Which is why I’ll start with meatballs in BBQ sauce.

The local American Legion post hosting the dance we attended went all out with the steam tables, including the meatballs. I may have eaten more than my share. Like maybe 19 of them. I worked up an appetite dancing inside a tux! Deborah responsibly enjoyed dinner and the liquid refreshments. When I returned from the bar with her first glass of wine, which was full almost to the brim, we had this exchange:

DEBORAH: That is a generous pour.
ME: It should be. I paid $5 for this.

The Motown Cruisers started early, played like they meant it, and displayed a superior sense of what makes a song danceable and how to perform it. And they weren’t afraid to leave the bandstand and perform from the dance floor. This is always a gutsy move. You never know how much your customers have had to drink and how they’ll react. I’ve sometimes seen singers and guitarists enter a crowd, but this was only the second time I saw a saxophonist try it. You can’t defend yourself while you’re blowing into a sax.

The first time, the sax man was built like Usain Bolt and he also walked the bar (he had a spotter). This time, it was a middle-aged woman named Susan in a black dress. We were a good-natured crowd (they picked me out to sing the nah, nah nah nah, nah nah nah nah part of “Land of a Thousand Dances” because of how I was dressed, and everyone applauded), but still, this was beyond brave.

So here are my lessons for this new year of 2026:

If you only wear an outfit annually, remove it from the closet ahead of time and let it enjoy some fresh air. Also, practice putting it on.

Never eat meatballs in BBQ sauce again. Or if you do, practice first.

Be brave like Susan.

Happy New Year, everyone!