Written June 19th, 2012
Since its inception, the internet has emerged as a viable means for developing relationships. Connection has never been easier than it is today, and with that, we can all bear witness to the growing popularity of “internet love”. The mouse click, the Facebook “like”, the up-vote, and the retweet have all given rise to an entirely new concept of romanticism, and this trend is not one I have been immune to. As a result, I too have succumbed to the appeal of an internet relationship—a relationship with a woman roughly the age of my grandmother, who has taught me more about love than I’d ever believed possible.
This new love of mine spent her formative years idolizing the likes of Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby, and Nat King Cole, and with a reverence for these artists, elevated her music acumen to the level of fanaticism. She’d studied her idols religiously—just as microscopically as a chemist would a solution or a paleontologist would a bone sample—and by the age of 17, she’d used the influence of her idols to lay the foundation for the finest vocals to ever resonate throughout this earth.
Sometimes, specifically in my times of need, she sings to me. “When the quarrel we had needs mending,” she sings to me. When she sings of the “man she loves,” she sings to me. Evenwhen she “hasn’t slept a wink,” she sings to me. She sings to me, and when she does so, it is as though she sings to me and me only.
I’ve stumbled upon love with a woman—a woman roughly the age of my grandmother—who sings as you and I speak; with such control over inflection and pitch and tone. I’ve stumbled upon love with a woman who does not have soul, but who is soul. I’ve stumbled upon love with “The First Lady of Song”, Ms. Ella Jane Fitzgerald, and as I scour the internet, libraries, and record stores in search for more of her music, our love proves a reassuring one.