I love Doris Day.
I love her films, her voice, her beautiful vocal delivery - it's easy to forget that during the 1940's she was one of the most successful big band singers around.
As with most of my appreciation for female vocalists, I saw 'Pillow Talk', a film she made with Rock Hudson, when I was little and as soon as she opened her trap I was hooked from the off.
My mis-spent youth was responsible for many obsessive rainy afternoons locked in the company of such Goddesses of the Gramophone as Ella Fitzgerald, Brenda Lee, Liza Minnelli, Karen Carpenter, Judy Garland and, the High Priestess herself, Barbra Streisand.
Day's partnership with Hudson continued for many years and, in hindsight, the two seemed to have a genuine chemistry and affection for one another that can't have been easy given the witch-hunt that would have inevitably followed should the 1950's media have discovered his homosexuality - Day herself clearly never gave a toss...
Last night I heard on the Russell Davies Radio 2 show a song of hers called 'Clap Yo' Hands' that I didn't even know, which continues 'Roly Poly's" clapping rhythm (that could be, subliminally, where I've got it from after all these years...).
Alas, I couldn't find it to post here but I have wiled away many a pleasant evening listening to Radio 2 on a Sunday night - I'm not sure where else you could hear the likes of Doris Day, George Gershwin, Hoagy Carmichael, Lena Horne, Ella Fitzgerald, The Ink Spots et all in one place. I heartily recommend Russell Davies and even the lovely David Jacobs late into the evening. Not hip but who gives a flying what-not about being hip - if you're after that, you're clearly in the wrong place anyway.
So, in honour of Doris Day, and for fellow squares everywhere, here's something else...