When Whitney Houston died I felt great sadness. My sadness of course was about our collective loss – when you listened to this nightingale sing your body would drop into a chair your head would tilt up a small smile would creep across your face and inside you knew that there was a higher power somewhere: gifted beautiful spiritual.
Go forget me – why should sorrow O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go forget me – and tomorrow brightly smile and sweetly sing. Smile – though I shall not be near thee Sing – though I shall never hear thee.
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I hoped I could make people smile and laugh and have a good time.
