An evening with a singing George Costanza

            As a teenager in the 1970s, I thought I'd heard every Billy Joel song written. I snapped my fingers to "The Longest Time" and bristled with anger at his dig at Catholic girls in "Only The Good Die Young."

            But until I attended the recent Houston Symphony Pops concert, I'd never heard one Joel's most poignant and heartbreaking songs, "And So It Goes."

            I have George Costanza to thank.

            There's no real George Costanza – he's a fictional character on the old "Seinfeld" series, and Jason Alexander played Jerry Seinfeld's neurotic friend, George. Alexander was the guest performer at the recent Pops performance, and he was surprisingly delightful.

            I had no idea Alexander could sing so beautifully until my friend, Pat invited me to attend the concert.

            I thought Alexander might ride on his popularity from the Seinfeld show, tell a few jokes and coast on the coat tails of the talented musicians in the orchestra.

            But from the first minute he walked onto the stage, Alexander was fabulous. He instantly connected with the audience as a fellow lover of the theater and music.

            He performed funny skits involving the audience and he told us about growing up loving theater music and singing.

            In between making us laugh, he'd sing his favorite tunes from Broadway and other artists. All the songs were enjoyable, but he sang one by Billy Joel that struck a chord.

            "And So It Goes" was one I'd never heard, but the honest way Alexander sang it caused me to stop in my tracks.  

            I've always known Joel was a fun and gifted songwriter – "Uptown Girl" is one of my favorite pop songs from the 1980s and "Piano Man" paints a sad picture of people drowning their sorrows in a hotel bar room.

            But I didn't realize how exquisite a poet Joel is until one verse in the song:  "Every time I've held a rose, I've only felt the thorns." When Alexander sang that line with a quiet violin section behind him, the world seemed to stop.

            I found myself remembering the many times I've had something beautiful in my life but didn't realize the wonder I was experiencing.

            Taking my children to the park, I'd worry they'd get hurt so I was always calling out warnings.

Instead of pushing them on the swings until they'd feel like their toes were touching the sky, I'd say "that's high enough," and pull back.

            There are times I want to sing out loud or dance but I don't because I'm worried I'll look a fool. But until I heard that line, I never realized I should take a chance.

            Sure I might look stupid, but I'd be able to have the experience of knowing I got up and danced in life when the music called.

            Sitting in that audience, I pushed away all the nibbling thoughts about the traffic I'd face going home, how much work I had to do the next day and that our bathrooms needed scrubbing.

            Surrounded by the beautiful strings and woodwinds of the gifted musicians of the Houston Symphony, sitting next to my best friend who invited me because she knew I needed a little fun in my life, I realized I was holding a rose.

            The thorns, Alexander and Joel reminded me, were not as important as the beauty of the rose, the wonder of life and the wisdom that comes from letting yourself experience both love and loss.

            I don't think George Costanza would've understood that line.

            But thanks to Billy Joel, Jason Alexander and the Houston Pops, I got it. 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.