I can trace my first true grown-up "fan" moment to this album, specifically What A Fool Believes.
My cousin Lori had it on an 8 track tape and, for the first time, I was in love. I was in love with Michael McDonald's voice. I was about 11.
Up to then, there had been other men that I'd loved before Michael. Tony DiFranco. A brief fling with Donnie Osmond. The blond guy on CHiPs. But I fell head over heels in love with Michael McDonald the first time I sat up and took notice of his voice.
Then I saw him! That beard! Those blue eyes! I was totally in love, y'all. The woolybooger look was in back then.
I thought he was subversive. I thought he smoked pot. He was, obviously, much older than me. I didn't care.
It was 1979.
He was my first rock star celebrity husband!
I'm still in love with Michael McDonald.
A couple of years ago I downloaded The New York Rock and Soul Review, mainly because it featured Donald Fagan. Michael McDonald sang backup for Steely Dan (you can hear him on Peg) and Michael McDonald sang backup on this album, too.
So there I was, driving along in the car, on my way to court, listening to the version of Pretzel Logic on The New York Rock and Soul Review (for the first time) when, to my astonishment, Michael began to sing the second verse!
Y'all, I screamed (squealed is probably more like it) in the car, uncontrollably, totally fangirled out right there on Fairview Road. Thank God I was in the car alone. I couldn't help myself.
Those of you who know me know that I am not a squealer.
I am aloof. I am calm. I am reserved. I take after my father's side of the family (the screaming hillbillies are on Mom's side).
I am boring to the point of tears.
But unexpected Michael McDonald reduces me to uncontrollable fangirl squealing.
After all these years.