Born out of time

So it's nearly 11, and Ella's singing on the CD player.

It's the Cole Porter disc tonight. I get no kick from champagne, mere alcohol, it doesn't move me at all..

Jenny said while commenting on an earlier blog post that I was born out of my time. It's true. I'm proud of it. Such is life.

My sick gift to myself (LOL) was a splurge on the 16-disc "The Complete Ella Fitzgerald Song Books" box set. This thing is a true piece of beauty.

All the greats are here. Besides Porter, she sings the best of Duke Ellington (complete with Duke and the band playing behind her), the Gershwins, Harold Arlen, Johnny Mercer, a handful of others.

Oooh, here's a good one.

Night and day, you are the one...only you beneath the moon or under the sun...

If Sinatra is the Chairman of the Board, Ella is the torch singer in the little jazz club on the corner. And while I find myself missing the "ring-a-ding-ding" of Frankie's versions, there's something special at work here.

Forget the drivel --- this is pop music. They don't sing like this anymore, y'all.

What! You need proof? How many people are going to be looking nostalgically back toward something like "Oops, I Did It Again" in 30 years?

(Or, as Dudley Moore says in "10," "Why Don't We Do It in the Road? What (expletive) kind of era is that?")

But I digress.

For those of you in Knox Vegas, some kind of storm tonight, huh? I don't think I've ever seen severe lightning like that in years. It was fun to watch in its hauntingly beautiful way.

OK, I'm outta here. Gettin' sleepy. Y'all be safe out there.

Cause I've got you....under my skin...