I saw this record sitting in the sun in the pile of crap in the back of her car for months and months and months. It became so warped that it must have straightened itself out again, because somehow I got a hold of it, and it pretty much looks OK. I know, she has the most beautiful voice you've ever heard. She can sing hundreds of jazz standards from memory. She just saw your band play and she loved it so much! But unless you've really got more copies than you know what to do with, you shouldn't bother giving her your record. She doesn't have a record player, or a CD player. She doesn't own any recorded music - well, except for all of the things that people have given to her. Yes, she'll listen and sing along to the radio, or play that Ella Fitzgerald tape over and over for weeks, but it's to learn the songs. She lives, and breathes in song - every moment of every day is music, and it is happening right now, in the present. It is a beautiful thing to experience. It is a wonderful way to live. Everything in the universe is vibrating. Every aspect of every thing is made of music. She channels all of it, the beauty, the pain, the light and the darkness, every last bit of it can be heard in her voice.
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