Since airline travel is more about waiting these days (ridiculous forced check-in two hours early on international flights, long lines to check in anyway as airlines continue to become Greyhound and exhibit no concern with customer service whatsoever, slow security checks that make us marginally safer if at all) than actually traveling I had plenty of time to do some reading on my London trip.
I finished “Strange Fruit: The Biography of a Song” by David Margolick. It’s a nice read and a good look at the myths and realities of what has to be one of the most powerful songs, and powerful series of jazz performances, ever.
Billie Holiday didn’t write it and it wasn’t written for her, contrary to urban legend. However, she certainly owned it artistically and emotionally. Makes me sad every time I hear her sing it, but I’m compelled to put it on periodically.
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