Farewell to Hildegarde

One of my favorite performers of the Old School, "The incomparable" Hildegarde died yesterday. Scarily, I had just mentioned how I used to go to all her shows when she appeared at The Russian Tea Room. (I did that several months ago when I wrote about my mother, and she died a week later; scary.)

I always bribed my way to a front table; you know, if you are going to see a legend do it right. She was one of the only musicians every to play the piano with opera gloves on. At her final performance we were close enough (right next to the piano, actually) that during her two breaks Bibi and I had to rise from our seats to let he pass. As she stepped off the stage, I offered my hand, but she grabbed my thumb (more practical, perhaps, with gloves). The second time she stepped off the stage I offered my thumb and she smiled. After the show (and we were all bawling like babies), I waited for her at the foot of the stairs from the second floor; I had a book she had written many years earlier entitled, "Over Fifty, So What?". As she came down the stairs she smiled and said, "My Thumb." and I offered it. My favorite song, of course, was "Darling, Je Vous Aime Beaucoup", a touching yet happy love song that always makes me smile.