Mel TormeI discovered Mel when I was in my late teens. I had started collecting records (yes, vinyl records... and not as a retro thing but as in, this is what music played on) and for my car, I purchased cassette tapes. I bought his New York album. It was his tribute to New York and two of my favorite tracks were “Sunday in New York” and “Autumn In New York.”
Years later, I had a chance to hear him live. I was a singing waiter at The Fairmont Hotel in Chicago. I hated the job because for whatever reason, employees were not allowed to attend the shows they held in the Moulin Rouge room. Mel was playing. I was pissed. Damnit, I wanted to see him. Why on earth would I be denied attending one of his shows? Whatever the reason, the Nazi-esque management at the hotel held their ground.
So one of my jobs at the the end of the night was to do the money drop. So up I went in my ridculous waiter uniform. I passed by the Moulin Rouge. The show was still going on. Damn. Mel was in there, singing. I wished I could hear him, get an opportunity to see him perform live. I dropped the money off and headed back to the restaurant. As I passed the showroom one last time, I thought, “what the hell... so fire me if you have to...” I slipped behind the curtain. It was very dark. I could here applause and talking. Mel was inbetween one of his songs. Now would be the perfect time to sneak in. I had to open the door very slowly and inconspicuously. If only to be able to get a good dose of what Mel Torme was all about... just to maybe hear a couple of notes of his singing before I would be discovered and tossed out. I got through the door and as I hid in the back, in the shadows, Mel played some chords on the piano and opened his mouth to sing, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...”
Wow.
I listened to him sing the whole damn thing.