A song remembered, is nearly always a song with a memory.  I woke up this morning with “Bill Bailey - Won’t you come Home” stuck in my head.  At one of my teenage piano recitals I insisted that if I were going to be the upteenth student to play a Mozart piece I was also going to play my jazz rendition of “Bill Bailey” at the conclusion of my real piece.

It’s my grandfather’s favorite piece and he has never let me live down the day.  This song has soul, life and spunk.