Fats Domino

Thomas Wolfe wrote of the old Pennsylvania Station that 'few buildings are vast enough to hold the sound of time.'

Something along these lines might be said of Fats Domino, who just passed away at 89 at his home in Harvey, La. across the Mississippi River from New Orleans. Few lives are lived so large and so long that it takes bylines from two reporters to write his obituary in the New York Times.

And so it went yesterday when the front page below the fold obituary appeared for Fats Domiono, an obit crafted by Jon Pareles and William Grimes.

I'm not quite old enough to tell you I heard Fats Domino's music first hand. I was alive when he was making hits, but I wasn't in charge of what the radio played, or which were the few records that were brought home. I also basically missed Elvis Presley for much the same reasons. Those older people, called my parents, weren't listening, and I had no older siblings, or any siblings for that matter.

Of course over time, I became familiar with all the songs that everyone else became familiar with. I've found the expected Greatest Hits CD in my music collection. It's an uneven production, pulling hits in from different labels. Some tracks sound way better than others, but they all sound like Fats. Maybe I'll look again and find a better produced album.

Sometimes I imagine how I'd like to be remembered. I've pretty much come up with it would be great to be remembered "affectionately."

So think of how nice it is to read of someone whose "voice had a smile in it."

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