Play an Ella ballad with a cat in the room, and the animal will invariably go up to the speaker, lie down and purr. — GEOFFREY FIDELMAN
Like many teenagers, I went my own way when it came to the music my parents played, so I was not particularly moved by their fondness for Ella Fitzgerald and other jazz vocalists.
But as I grew older and my musical horizons expanded, I kept bumping into Lady Ella, mostly as I devoured Duke Ellington albums, and it wasn’t too long before I was smitten by this singer with a mountain spring water purity of voice, a three-octave range and extraordinary interpretive powers.
My father especially loved Ella and her “My Man” was his favorite:
It’s cost me a lot
But there’s one thing that I’ve got,
It’s my man.
Cold and wet, tired you bet
But all that I soon forget,
With my man.
He and my mother finally got to see Ella perform live, and in honor of his birthday she dusted off “My Man” and sang it for him. It was to be his last birthday.
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