Music men

Tony Bennett, crooner extraordinaire, has died at the age of 96. He left his heart in San Francisco, but he wasn't, as I had erroneously thought for years, a San Francisco native. The song he sang about this town is so enduring, that there's even a statue of Tony Bennett on the grounds of our Fairmont Hotel, although I have yet to view it. Even when rock music knocked his style of singing down a few rungs back in the 60s, Bennett remained (and remains) cool. The great Tony Bennett is dead, long live Tony Bennett!

A few of us uni pals converged on Seattle last week for a short visit and catch-up with one another. We stayed in a decidedly suburban area of the city called Magnolia about a 25 minute bus trip from the Space Needle, one of the main tourist attractions in town. As there were five adults and two teens making up the group, it was a bit challenging to come to consensus about how to spend our days. One hot afternoon, the majority of us decided to visit the Museum of Pop aka MoPop. I had always wanted to visit the Jimi Hendrix museum which I think was called The Experience, but knew that MoPop had evolved from said museum and had read that some of JH's memorabilia would be housed there. As it turned out, the Hendrix fare was scant as were those in attendance to view it, alas. Neighboring gallery areas including a hip-hop photography exhibit and Nirvana room were very well attended. The Nirvana room (it was closed off from the rest of the floor with only one way in and out) was so well-visited that I tried and failed twice to get through the space as the pronounced body heat and lack of elbow room were freaking me out too much and I couldn't stay. As a young adult in the 90s, I dug grunge (Screaming Trees, Pearl Jam, Hole), but didn't revere Nirvana, so missing out on their MoPop exhibit wasn't a huge loss for me.