Of COURSE I don't give a hoot who stole what from whom.
That was simply a handy stick to thump him with - so naturally
I picked it up (stole it).
I've no problem at all with what he eventually became. Poor boy ...
alcoholic father ... infantilising mother ... blah, blah, blah. That's
EXACTLY what I should have expected. Cheap music, cheap
words, cheap appeal, charmless cheapness throughout like
the vulgar motto embedded in a piece of seaside candy.
The unforgiving fact is you can grow up in Brookline & remain
essentially as common as dirt - or you can be born to a Hoboken
'nurse', prefer hoods for your companions & still produce stuff
as stylishly elegant as a Worth dress.
It can only ever be a matter of personal taste. I simply prefer
the phrasings of the Gershwin boys or ole King Cole (no, not Nat)
unaided, as rendered by a real musician - to sweaty evocations of
cheesburgers, blue suede shoes & hysterical thirteen year olds.
Scottie B.
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Received on Sun Sep 1 14:55:19 2002
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