During my freshman year in college, my girlfriend at the time gave me a three disc box set called Giants in Jazz. I remember the day she gave it to me. I remember it for many reasons. It was at that moment that I knew she really loved me. People gave me jazz related stuff all the time, but it wasn’t specific to me, you know? It was just jazz. The gift was appreciated but I could always tell that they saw familiar names on the back of the cd and decided to purchase it based on what they thought I may like. But Amy, my girlfriend, she listened to me. She knew I loved Charlie Parker. She knew I loved Dinah Washington and Dave Brubeck and John Coltrane. She knew this and went out and purchased with her hard-earned, part-time-job-while-in-college money this cd set complete with all of my beloved musicians. It meant so much to me at the time, and still does.

Another reason why I remember that day is because when I played the cd, it was the first time I ever heard Louis Armstrong’s version of Stardust. Now, just so you understand, Stardust is my absolute favorite when it comes to standards. Hoagy Carmichael was an f’ing genius musically. Think about it — Georgia on My Mind, Lazy River, The Nearness of You, Skylark….where would jazz be, where would MUSIC be without Hoagy Carmichael. Truly, he was a heavyweight. And Stardust, oh what a heavenly tune. And for such music to be paired with the absolutely most endearing and beautiful lyrics written by Mitchell Parish — Parish’s lyrics paired with Carmichael’s music is like a rainy Sunday afternoon with nowhere to go and the love of your life by your side. Perfect.

Now, you throw Louis Armstrong into the mix with his own, purely individualistic contribution, and you find yourself blithely waltzing through a musical utopia. Hearing that song at the ripe age of eighteen was one of the most enlightening moments of my life and not only caused me to lust for more of Louis Armstrong’s music, but it made me respect Mr. Armstrong as a trumpet/cornet player. Until then, all I really knew was What a Wonderful World and Hello Dolly. I knew Louis the showman. After hearing Stardust, I was instantly confronted with Louis the father. I realized that the singer, as great as he was, was only half of what made the man a legend. That golden sound that came forth from his horn knocked me on my ass completely, and to this day, I haven’t been able to stand back up again.

A few years after hearing Armstrong’s version of Stardust, I became a Woody Allen fiend. I saw “Annie Hall” when I was about 19 or 20 and discovered a soul mate of sorts. He was a man who wrote the way I wished I could write and said what I wished I had the moxie and intelligence to say. I gobbled up every movie he had made at the time. One of those films was Stardust Memories, one of my favorites. There’s a scene in that movie that Allen frames with Armstrong’s version of Stardust. I love that scene. If you’ve ever had a perfect moment, and especially a perfect moment with someone you love, you would dig this scene. When everything comes together and you are able to cement the memory of the beauty of it all with a great tune, well, there is no room for improvement. And years later, whenever you hear that song again, you will be instantly transported back to that moment. Because of that song, you are able to embrace that memory forever.

Now, whenever I hear Louis sing that song or see that scene from Woody, I feel an instant surge of gratitude. I feel thankful for that memory of my girlfriend handing me the discs that would change my life more profoundly than the two of us would ever know. I feel thankful for geniuses like Hoagy Carmichael, Mitchell Parish, Louis Armstrong and Woody Allen. And I am thankful for the fact that this stardust memory will, til the end of my days, haunt my reverie.

To be collapsed by a song - ain’t it grand?