“A spotlight pushes like a wave across the room, lifting up glints of highball glasses, lacquered fingernails, and cuff links in its wake, along with bluish pinwheel galaxies of Old Gold and Chesterfield smoke. It washes onto the stage, where a gleaming woman stands at a microphone, waiting.”… [read more at the Broad Street Review]

The latest word is that Etta James is doing much better. Her “At Last” is an icon to me; I write about it in the Broad Street Review.