The Jazziness of Harry Connick, Jr.
The air felt a bit different that morning. It was quiet and still, like nothing really mattered but a moment’s peace. I was having my usual fruity muesli for breakfast when the jazzy voice of Harry Connick, Jr. suddenly filled up the air with blues, singing my favourite More and invoking all the spirits that had been touched by this sweet rendition since the 1960s. Fully weeping, he lamented: “My life will be in your keeping… waking … sleeping … laughing … weeping …” What a depressing voice.
I finished the sweet muesli and sipped my bitter coffee, thinking of what I was going to do that day when I heard another mournful ballad, The Very Thought of You, floating eerily in the air, talking to me in its strange language, like “Hey, Mr Jazz lover. I was beautifully composed in 1934, but I keep living on inside the weary hearts of millions of people for 78 years. How about that?” The dead song was mocking me like I was some kind of a jazzy ignorant.
I was walking to the kitchen when I realized that I was dancing crazily to the funky tunes of For Once in My Life, bringing together all the smooth voices of Tony Bennett and Stevie Wonder who had sung this song in their unique, suave versions. For once in my life, I felt like I had just learnt the art of making another beautiful, soulful day – just listen to an old song and feel its beautiful, soulful beat. How stimulating.
With renewed energy, I grabbed my bag and was about to leave my apartment when the melancholic rhythm of Only You took hold of my conscience. The somber voice from 1955 was singing all around me, showing its vague face, smiling its charming smile and splashing its magic dust on me. “Only you can make this world seem right… only you can make darkness bright…” sang the talented Mr Connick who earned more number-one albums than any other artists in the US jazz history. What a dude.
I walked to the door and pulled the doorknob when I faintly sensed the familiar rhapsody, Save the Last Dance for Me, coming out of nowhere. Someone was whispering into my ears, telling me to keep dancing with PhD’s many challenges while saving the last dance for my graduation day. I stood there for a minute and thanked whatever it was that kept me inspired at that very moment. Some strange figure looked at me and said: “Yeah baby, save the last dance for me.”
Just when I thought things were back to normal, I was laughing when I caught You Don’t Know Me being played again. “You think you know me well, but you don’t know me,” chanted the dreamy voice. I didn’t know any magic, but I blamed Harry Connick, Jr’s voice for singing the ballads so magically that they had been stuck in my head like magic. I finally got out of my apartment that morning, feeling thankful for all the world’s greatest music that had taught me a lot about life and timelessness.