But as the years rolled on, he was sort of forgotten by me. Streisand, Manilow (oh, no! Not Barry Manilow!), and anything composed by Sondheim replaced listening to those guys. But I knew the lyrics by heart by then, and just one phrase could bring me back to hearing their voices.
Fast forward to the most recent event in my life. That of becoming a grandparent to a small but adorable little girl. And she is adorable with the possible exception of twice. Once while my own adorable grown up girl was having major contractions to birth her and the other was when she would not settle down to sleep. We tried rubbing her back. We rocked her. We walked her. We patted her little behind gently (don’t know why that calmed her down sometimes?). But one morning about 2:30 when the new mom and dad were cross-eyed from lack of sleep; I waved them off to their beds and figured I would just keep rocking her until she settled down. When my own children were very small I remember singing softly to them, so I figured, why not? Now my voice is not soothing, as anyone who stands next to me in church will attest, but nothing ventured, nothing gained I thought. But what to sing? Something from Sondheim? Streisand? And then it just popped into my head. There was Jack Jones singing “You’re My Best Girl.” I only knew one verse (and the second one refers to a guy anyway) and so I began to sing:
You’re my best girl
And nothing you do is wrong.
I’m glad you belong to me.
And if the day is rough for me,
Having you there’s enough for me.
And if some day, another girl comes along,
It won’t take her long to see,
That I’ll still be proud,
Just hanging around
My best girl.
My best girl.
And it did the trick. She’s sleeping now. Thanks Jack!
