Betty Carter

I've often thought of the night
I saw Betty Carter at Jazz Alley
in Seattle. After the show, I was
leaving the house as she was
exiting the stage; we nearly bumped
into each other. A white pretty-boy
type and a formidable black jazz
legend were nearly head to head.
Once I told my jazz-vocals teacher
that I'd been listening to Betty Carter;
she told me to stop. I know why but
it's exactly the aspects of Betty Carter
that made her objectionable to some
that I love most about her music.
That night, she smiled as we both
stepped back. I could tell she was
pleased that a guy like me would be
leaving her show with a smile on
his face. Not long after, I read
that she had died. All I could
think was that once while she
still walked the earth, Betty Carter
smiled at me.

(2007)