Golden-haired, golden-voiced, painfully shy Eva Cassidy died in 1996 at 33 of skin cancer, unknown outside her native D.C.
She found posthumous fame three years later, via a British DJ.
Too kitsch to be true?
“Birds fly over the rainbow. Why can’t I?”
Have your handkerchief ready.

Guilty pleasures.
Could we keep this just between us?

They indeed really were a fine group. Go listen to half a dozen cuts you don’t remember.

In which Jeff reveals his deepest guilty-pleasure listening habits.

“We got a call one day from Granada television in England. They said The Beatles were arriving in two hours in New York at Idlewild Airport. Would we like to make a film of them? I put my hand over the phone and asked my brother ‘Who are The Beatles? Are they any good?'”

Dee de dee dee dee dee…

Life can be quirky.
So you might as well cast your fate to the wind.
And don’t sit under ledges where pigeons are roosting.

John Lennon was murdered 40 years ago today. Paul Simon wrote a song around that event. Even today, my mind gets teary when it lights on John Lennon’s death. He appears in Paul Simon’s song only obliquely, because the song isn’t about John Lennon, and it’s not about Johnny Ace. It’s about Paul Simon, and about you, and about me.