My close friends know that I will cry when hearing "Amazing Grace" in any way, shape or form. Mournful bagpipes, a lone man singing a capella in a Manhattan subway or sung with congregants in church, my eyes fill and my make-up is ruined.
If Fred LeBlanc sings "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in the House of Blues at 2 AM, I'm gonna cry.
At the end of the Disney animated "The Lion King", I lost it during "The Circle of Life". Lost it. Now, when I hear the chanting introduction, I have to remove myself from others because my reaction is embarrassing.
Driving with Patsy Cline on the radio and suddenly the road becomes a little wavy.
Anything belted out with heart and soul and angst makes my eyes wet. Black gospel music? Geez Louise, that does it.
That one high note ringing out through St. Paul's Methodist Church in Houston makes me look up to prevent eye spillage. Mom calls it "angel music".
And this is the one time of year that I know there will be more than a few moments of sniffling and saline. It happens every December. I sit in my vehicle, waiting for the traffic light to turn from red to green, listening to the holiday music station and a song will melt my heart before it spills over to my eyes. Different years, different songs. Sometimes "Silent Night" sometimes the original Charles Brown version of "I'll Be Home for Christmas".
Last year, I saved the Late Night with David Letterman episode on my TiVo so my mom could watch Jay Thomas re-tell his Lone Ranger story. I made Mom continue to watch as Darlene Love belted out "(Christmas) Baby Please Come Home".
I had the same reaction the second time I watched it, thought myself to be a bit ridiculous and then spied Mom wiping a tear. She turned to me and saw that my eyes were shining too. "Oh my gosh, that was amazing." If Darlene's energy and exuberance doesn't touch something in you, oh man, you're dead inside.
What music wrecks you?