I don't know why, but sometimes I end up with this urge, this craving to sing, play, and listen to show tunes. None of this modern stuff. No, I prefer the jazz musing of George Gershwin.
There's nothing like hearing Billie Holiday play with They Can't Take That Away From Me, or even Audrey Hepburn sing How Long Has This Been Going On?. Bet you didn't know that Audrey was a singer, let alone a dancer.
Anyways, there's nothing like banging out Someone To Watch Over Me on the piano, though of course it does bring me down a little. I'll just claim getting into the mood with that. Artistic License and all that. There's just something about getting involved with any of this classical jazz that you can't help but feel the song. Cliche, cliche, cliche I know. But you just can't help but feel the smile creep across your face.
This isn't something new to anyone who's been out drinking with me. I tend to break out into song when I'm drunk, and it's show tunes when I'm either extremely happy drunk or extremely down drunk.
Believe it or not, I have stupid grin spreading with the memory of dancing and trotting home with Elaine in Hamburg as I sang show tunes. God knows what I sang, but it makes me smile to recall it.
There's nothing like hearing Billie Holiday play with They Can't Take That Away From Me, or even Audrey Hepburn sing How Long Has This Been Going On?. Bet you didn't know that Audrey was a singer, let alone a dancer.
Anyways, there's nothing like banging out Someone To Watch Over Me on the piano, though of course it does bring me down a little. I'll just claim getting into the mood with that. Artistic License and all that. There's just something about getting involved with any of this classical jazz that you can't help but feel the song. Cliche, cliche, cliche I know. But you just can't help but feel the smile creep across your face.
This isn't something new to anyone who's been out drinking with me. I tend to break out into song when I'm drunk, and it's show tunes when I'm either extremely happy drunk or extremely down drunk.
Believe it or not, I have stupid grin spreading with the memory of dancing and trotting home with Elaine in Hamburg as I sang show tunes. God knows what I sang, but it makes me smile to recall it.
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