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Have just heard BBC2 will be airing 'Just One of Those Things' to- night at 2130h., covering the life and times of Ella Fitzgerald. I started buying her albums when I was 22 and was considered very weird by my shipmates who were at the time very deep into Elvis and his blue suede shoes. My love for her singing style has never waivered though I prefer her singing Porter and Gershwin to her scat. I have remained faithful to her now for over sixty years though I admit I have been seriously tempted by Billie Holiday at times.

Hope the show crosses the Atlantic soon so we can enjoy the programme too.

Nick
 

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Nick
I totally agree with your appreciation of Ella. My favorite album is:
Jazz 'Round Midnight: Ella Fitzgerald
My favorite song on the album is:
With a Song in my Heart
I have to say I listen to classical music mostly, but often come back to these lovely songs sung by Ella
 

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A pure unstrained classical voice with a huge tonal range.
Somewhere I have the LP; 'Ella at Duke's place' - Two greats in one place.
side 1 track 1 - Something to live for.
 

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My favorite: "I will always be in love with you", how she can make a tune as slow as that one swing as she makes it swing is incredible. I note a very childish signature on the LP on which I have that tune, I must have put there whem early in my teens. "Rythm is my business" Ella Fitzgerald with Bill Doggett, Verve, no date. (I can take her scat too, but will admit she sometimes overdid it.) A couple of years ago, I really dug Anna Netrebko, but now that she has put on weight and and aim to make it as a Wagner "interpretin", she has left my sphere of musical interest... :)
 

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"Every time we say Goodbye I die a little". Reminds me of the year I got engaged and was looking forward to August Bank Holiday at home, when the telegram arrived,sign on tomorrow, sailing Friday.Blue Funnel, are long gone but my wife is still here.
 

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Not a fan of any performer, I saw Ella at the Fairfield Hall in Croydon years ago. She was superb. A beautiful voice over the whole range, and she knew exactly how to use it. She made three or four appearances, each time with different coloured hair, which underlined her strength of character. At one point she dropped her handkerchief (by accident or design I don't know) and a man from the stalls picked it up and handed it to her. Somehow she interposed into the song she was singing, without breaking the rhythm, "Thank you vurry much, sir, I see there's still some gennelmen around."

No wonder she's remembered with admiration and pleasure.
 

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Thanks for the tip, nickwilson89. I watched enthralled. Amazing story and what a great musician.
 

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"Every time we say Goodbye I die a little". Reminds me of the year I got engaged and was looking forward to August Bank Holiday at home, when the telegram arrived,sign on tomorrow, sailing Friday.Blue Funnel, are long gone but my wife is still here.
I too enthuse hugely about this performer, but Ella's recording of 'Every Time We Say Goodbye' has sadder connotations for me than it does for you, taking me back to the nadir of my life. I had just given up my sea career for a former fiancée and moved to her town, but two months later she chucked me for a second time. (How was I to know that I had a rival and there was no hope of a reconciliation? She never told me and I only found out three years later. How cruel was that!).

Unwilling to give up and return to sea while my ticket was still valid, I had just moved into a bedsitter downtown with the intention of waiting for her to have a change of heart. So there I was, alone in a strange town and starting a new career ashore, worried sick about everything and wondering what I should I do. Then that song came on the radio.

An aside: The position I was in is a familiar one to police forces everywhere; a neighbour of mine who used to be a policeman in London tells me that he had to attend a lot of sad cases where a jilted young bloke had committed suicide.
 

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A Jewish mans sits down on an airplane next to a great big, barrel-chested, red-haired, pale-skinned, hairy Irishman. The Irishman is reading a newspaper, paging through, and the Jew begins to glance over when something grabs his attention and he takes hold of the Irishman's jacket cuff, exclaiming
"Look, look, it's Moshe Dayan! There's his photo in the newspaper, you know he vas a hero from the Six-Day Var and he vore an eyepatch, he vas born on the kibbutz—"
"Fcuk Moshe Dayan," spits the Irishman without looking up. Turning the page, the Jew again exclaims,
"But there's Golda Meir too! She vas an Israeli prime minister! And she vas born in Milvaulkee, vell first she vas a teacher, and—"
"Fcuk Golda Meir!"
The Jew starts and turns away from the newspaper. A few minutes pass and something from the Irishman's paper catches his eye again.
"Akiva Tatz! Vow, you know he's an orthodox rabbi, but he's also a doctor and you know he wrote a—"
"Fcuk Akiva Tatz," says the Irishman.
"What what what, you're not Jewish?"
"The Fcuk does it look like? I'm Irish."
The Jew thinks for a second and says,
"Yeah?! Vell, vell . . . Fcuk Ella Fitzgerald!"
 
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