Everybody got something they want to sing about.

Hey peeps,

(For 56 days straight, I have addressed you as “dear friends.” But every now and then you gotta break out of your rut.)

I found this on etsy and I wanted to show it to you.

And it’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.

You know — happy things. Like how a co-worker walked into my office this week and offered me a pair of Bose speakers she found in the supply closet. I almost turned them down. I said, “But I don’t have any music on my computer.”

This child with the spare speakers told me there’s a cool thing called free music on the internet. So she plugged in the speakers and pulled up Pandora and poof! I was grooving at work. I knew I was a little behind but, peeps, I had no idea.

The first song that popped up was called “For me, it’s you” by Train. Holy cow, that’s some good music not made by the Beatles or the Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin or any of the other 34 bands from my youth to whom I have been slavishly devoted.

(Quick left turn: In my job, I sometimes get to book entertainment. And the speakers-girl is my Gal Friday who handles all the details. We were looking for some musical entertainment this week for a gig we’re hosting and she had a long list of affordable options from a talent agency, including KC and the Sunshine Band and REO Speedwagon. And I said “What, Foghat was already booked?” And if that made you laugh, if every band whose name you still know is now on the casino circuit, then welcome to Joan’s age group, who did not know free music still existed on the internet after the Feds busted all the Napster co-eds.)

Anyway, that cool song by Train . . . it reminded me of you. I think it’s supposed to be a love song, but it made me think about how much I want to sing about you, and the way you show up here, and share your stories with me, and give me advice, and tell me when my words resonate with you, all of which makes me deliriously happy in the same way a really great song can.

So today, peeps, the happy for me is all you.

With gratitude {for free music and . . . you},

Joan, who Abracadabra-swears she is friends in real life with the former drummer of the Steve Miller Band and, therefore, figures she is not more than 3 degrees removed from every aged rocker she idolizes