I was in Colorado but the snow sucked so bad and the forecast was so horrifying that we flew back.

And I’ve been weirded out ever since. I’m not usually in town this week. Traffic has slowed, light is limited…and everything sounds so good on the radio.

I noticed it yesterday when I heard "Life’s Been Good". I love Joe Walsh, but I can do without hearing this song ever again. But suddenly every lick was fresh.

And then I heard "I’ll Cry Instead".

That came out in the summer. But it got me to thinking, of a similar time of year, in Vermont, eons ago, discussing the merits of "Beatles ’65" with an oldster (fourteen!) I met at Skylight Ski Lodge as we played the limited 45s in the rec room (I know every lick of "Charlie Brown" as a result!)

That’s my favorite Beatle album. No, not the original "Beatles ’65", but the English version, "Beatles For Sale", with "Every Little Thing".

Then I got afraid to play music. I felt I was going to lose the magic. I was in such a shitty space that if I lost my last link to feeling good, I’d spiral down and find it impossible to get up.

But then I had to go out to the drugstore and first I stopped at Whole Foods to pick up some soup to fight the cold I got after skiing with one too few layers and getting far too little sleep. And it was eerie, everything on the radio sounded spectacular. Suddenly, all the tracks that were big at this time came flowing back. "Snoopy Vs. The Red Baron". "Boogaloo Down Broadway". "Judy In Disguise". It was like I was back in the sixties, it wasn’t a dream, but I was the only one.

And when I stopped at Ocean Park Pharmacy to retrieve the antibiotic I may no longer need I heard that thumping beat and found it impossible to get out of the car.

Yes, "Rumours" is one of the biggest albums of all time.

But it was new to all of us who bought it the day it came out.

"Go Your Own Way" was a radio staple. Eventually "Dreams", "Don’t Stop" and "You Make Loving Fun" would be too.

But the song that got me the very first time through was the very last one, the one I heard on the radio today, "Gold Dust Woman".

Fleetwood Mac had a couple of blues songs on the radio but then they became famous for their manager putting a faux version of the band out on the road. I was not prepared for "Over My Head".

But it sure felt nice.

I played that album on 8-track incessantly during Christmas week of 1975. I was broke, the slopes were bulletproof and I’d failed to qualify for the freestyle world tour. My mother told me to go out and get a job, my father said he had no idea how to fix my problems but he was gonna send me fifty bucks and I should go out for a good meal.

Which is how I ended up applying to law school. It was my only way out. And when I got the world’s worst case of mononucleosis, I went. And it was so bad, I wanted to drop out and go to Utah but it was the worst snow year ever, Christmas ’76, you can look it up, my buddies said they were leaving town and not to come.

So I endured a week in L.A. in the pre-Internet era, which was excruciating, and then I got into my first big relationship which faltered but then she came over my apartment and I put on "Rumours" and I remember embracing and tapping my fingers on her back as I played "Gold Dust Woman" on the stereo my parents had promised me for my college graduation, which I’d gotten as a reward for going back to school and giving up the itinerant life.

And if you haven’t heard "Rumours" on vinyl, you’re in for a treat. It’s like you’re in the studio. And even though it’s Stevie’s song, it’s Fleetwood and Mac’s track. The descending bass line, the kick drum. It’s so dark yet so bright. Great rock and roll was rarely obvious, "Gold Dust Woman" is not.

I could turn on the television, I’ve got hundreds of channels, and contrary to that old song, there’s plenty on.

Or I could even leave my abode and go to the movies. But the flicks always disappoint.

But music. It’s my doppelganger. It’s like looking in the mirror and finding out I’ve got a twin and I’ll never be alone.