Last night I was in a lounge in Manhattan having a drink with a friend. The music made me stop and wonder who was singing. They were mostly Sinatra classics, but it wasn’t Sinatra. I immediately thought of Michael Buble.
My friend and I kept talking, but I kept stopping because I liked the music so much. Songs that brought me back to childhood and my father’s collection that he played all the time. One after another. So I finally went and asked the bartender, who was snapping his fingers and singing along. He didn’t know either, but he checked for me and it was indeed Michael Buble.
Looks like a trip to a record store is in order. (Yes, I know it dates me to call it a record store, but hell. Isn’t the music a dead giveaway anyway?)
I’m tapping my feet already.
