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Mitch and I were driving to the psych facility Saturday afternoon to visit Mom. The first week we went to see her, she was surprisingly okay. The second week, she was fine for the beginning of the visit, but got belligerent and nasty after a couple hours. I'm not sure what to expect this time. For a second I think of The Mickey Mouse Club. Anything Can Happen Day.

Yup.

We're a couple miles from the hospital. Mitch has one of those thingies that channels the ipod through the car radio. Rolling Stones, Blue Oyster Cult, Janet Jackson, Joan Osborne. Old and new stuff. Occasionally, we'll hum along or sing a line or two. If the song gets going, I'll bounce around in the seat.

A couple weeks ago, we let it all hang out to "No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)." Well, Barbra had her turn; now it's her male equivalent.

Ladies and gentlemen, Barry Manilow:

Last night I waved goodbye
Now it seems years
I'm back in the city
Where nothing is clear
The thoughts of me holding you
Bringing us near
And tell me
When will our eyes meet
When can I touch you
When will this strong yearning end
And when will I hold you again?

Mitch and I sail into it. Completely second nature. Unlike Barbra, we can sing this one in the actual key. Yeah, it's schmaltz. But sometimes, ya know, ya just need schmaltz. I used to cry to this song when I was ten. It's hard-wired into my psyche. How many old boyfriends and boyfriends-that-never-were did I mourn over this one?

I feel the change coming
I feel the wind blow
I feel brave and daring
I feel my blood flow
With you I could bring out
All the love that I had
With you there's a heaven
So earth ain't so bad
And tell me...

The key-change to end all key-changes. (Why hasn't Linda Eder recorded this yet?) My arms are broken out in goosebumps; the hairs on the back of my neck are at full erection. The pop single version of a theatre queen's orgasm. Pitching my voice up that quarter-tone is more thrilling and satisfying than nailing a 225 lb bench without a spot.

When will our eyes meeeeeeet
When can I touch yoooooou
When will this strong yearning eeeeeend
And when will I hold yooooooooooooooooooooou again?

Both of us are wiped. Sex without having sex. Cigarette?

I hold Mitch's hand tight then bring it to my lips. I look in his eyes for reassurance. We're at the hospital...