Exactly how bad does it hurt?

Early morning meeting today. Car radio kept me awake on the way to caffeine. Scanning the dial, I ran into a familiar guitar sound…it was my father, backing Little Anthony & The Imperials on a classic 60’s hit…

I know you
Don't know what I'm going through
Standing here
Looking at you
Well, let me tell you that it
Hurts so bad
It makes me feel so sad
It makes me hurt so bad
to see you again (like needles and pins)

Dad hated much of the music he played as a studio musician. It assaulted his musical sensibilities, it was an affront to his perfectionism. He loved his little family, but he would have been happier if jazz had fed us as substantially as jingles and rock ‘n’ roll did…

People say
You've been making out okay
"She's in love, don't stand in her way"
But let me tell you that it
Hurts so bad
It makes me feel so sad
It's gonna hurt so bad
If you walk away

I was raised on Duke Ellington and Mozart. I could scat – in French – by the time I was 6 years old. I could sing every note of the Bach Fugue in G Minor. I started listening to, and loving, rock and soul when I was about 8. Dad was pissed off; he saw it as a betrayal. How could I devour the Beatles and the Rolling Stones when I had been nourished by Louis Armstrong and Ravel?

Why don't you stay and let me make it up to you?
Stay, I'll do anything you want me to
You loved me before
Please love me again
I can't let you go back to him
Please don't go
Please don't go

I was singing Billie Holliday’s “God Bless the Child” a capella in the car the other day. Made me think of Dad, and all the times I sang it, and dozens of other standards, with him. Today, I sang with him again. "Hurts So Bad" has always been one of my favorites. And I cried – from the too-resonant message in the lyric – and from missing my dad.

It hurts so bad
It makes me feel so sad
It makes me hurt so bad
I'm begging you please
Please don't go
Please don't go...