I don’t want to launch into one of those “they don’t make them like they used to” blog posts, because there are some singers these days who are just as mellifluous and mellow as he. And I’ve got to admit that Williams didn’t age well, at least as far as my ears go.
I’m not sure I heard Williams sing a lot as a kid – I grew up in a home where there were few records or tapes, just lots and lots and lots of stuff coming in over the radio on the ol’ AM dial. But I’m sure, somewhere along the way, I heard my mother humming some of his standards, humming along when he was on the radio, and that memory of the humming along with that voice from the radio have stuck like coal dust to the wallpaper. So that’s why I cherish Andy Williams – because he reminds me of “back then.”
There are other versions of these songs, just as lovely as this one. But I never heard my mother humming over them, so they don’t count.
That's how the Hermit of Iapetus feels, as he hums these songs to himself as he prowls the wastelands of his chosen hom e-- far from the memories that he thought he could leave on Earth, but the memories followed him. And haunt him.
Here’s another one:
I may play these songs now and then – from YouTube, not from the radio – and my kids may hear me humming or singing along. And I hope, somewhere in time, they find those memories comforting as they too sing along to a song they heard their daddy sing.