CHOCOLATE FUDGE and INNOCENCE

{first written December 31, 2007}

My younger son is one of these people who gets an idea, and never lets go. Weeks and months might pass, but the same fixed idea comes back. He planted the seed last summer. In August, I picked him up from his summer school - after 7 weeks in upstate NY. What was the first thing he says? "Mom, I want to buy fudge for Christmas and send it to my new friends."

I heard him, and answered, "Uh-huh... yes, dear." This means: he remembers some previous time long ago, at the Baltimore Inner Harbor (read "tourist trap"), when singing and dancing youth were also making and selling fudge at extremely high prices. He wants me to mail gifts to a bunch of new friends (whom he'll never see again). I shudder to think of the effort, the cost, the point...

Well, like clockwork, he continued to remind me about once a month, and became increasingly authoritative in his reminders. I never said no, always "Uh-huh..." But I secretly hoped he might drop it.

Fast forward to mid-December. We pass by Baltimore Inner Harbor on weekends for music lessons. With concerts, recitals, lessons all finished for 2007 and I was hoping to sneak out of town. No way. He announced our side trip to the Harbor. My other sons took a ride home with friend, leaving just he and I together to walk there alone.

The streets of Baltimore and the ships in the harbor were decorated with Christmas lights, reds and greenery. Magical. We went right after lunch, thinking we would efficiently squeeze in the errand before his voice lesson.

We stood enjoying the fudgemakers sing old R&B and pop songs. They change the lyrics to describe the joys of making, buying, and eating fudge. I got the idea in my head that my son should respond in song. Afterall he's a singer too. What's the point in all these voice lessons and chorale performances if he can't mix it up on the fly with the fudgemakers? We worked out a possible vocal response, but my son simply melted in fear; he chickened out. With our window of time gone and the errand a failure, we walked back for the voice lesson, quite unhappy with each other.

After the voice lesson, we went again. This time I would not try to get him to sing along. I merely intended to keep my mouth shut and plunk my cash down for some fudge. I'm glad we went twice. This time outside on the waterfront was a 200-person Tuba band playing Silent Night. Inside, "The Fudgery" was packed with customers. These guys and one gal are powerful singers. R&B or gospel-style, they know how to get a crowd going. My son's eyes are lit up, just like when he used to visit and believe in Santa Claus. He wants so badly to buy the fudge, and to share with all his friends. But first, there's the floor show. Three tuba players drift in and join in the fudge-making jam session.

Somehow, they pick me out from the crowd?? The fudge-makers, they ask my name, and tell me to shout out - at their cue, "Word!!!" They sing a line, I shout "Word!" and the rest of the audience shouts back "Word!" I guess I learned "word". We all got into it for a few songs... We bought 7 lbs of fudge, in 5 flavors, and added a tip... And this was the best money spent.

We walked back to the car in twilight. We came home and I lovingly re-wrapped up each 1/2 lb. fudge bar, shaped like bars of gold, to be air tight for their trips cross-country. I typed up a little cards to insert with each gift, a little blog-like depiction of The Fudgery experience, with red bows and name cards in Fudgery bags. Shipped that following Monday as Priority Mail all over the US.

You might think this is a Christmas thing, but as they pointed out, The Fudgery is open year-round. We can do this again any day of the year when the spirit moves you!