Still...aside from the Charleston Chasers CDs that I got back from one of my longtime buyers' kids after said buyer died last spring, I have by and large been selling off all the traditional jazz CDs that were in my father's collection, with the exception of a couple dozen I set aside for my cousin Terry O'Malley as a wedding present. It's not my kind of music, but I still don't feel right that I've been auctioning it all off, the Julie London and the Bix Beiderbecke and the obscure little bands from the 1920s that put out a few dozen 78s in the Jazz Era before the stock market crash brought all the happy times to a screeching halt for the music business and America as a whole. I never acquired a taste for blues in the original New Orleans style, and the big band swing of the 1940s I can take or leave alone.
On some level, I think ought to be taking the CDs out for one last spin, so I can hear the music that he spent so much time and money acquiring - and going to some effort, too, since none of these labels are the sort of thing you'd find by going out to the local Sam Goody or Tower Records. Keeping in mind that my father was somewhat of a Luddite when it came to the Internet (weird, considering most of his career had to do with writing programs for mainframes) it's more than a little amazing that he found some of these CDs. Even so...what I feel when I listen to Hal Kemp's orchestra and Natalie Lamb and Wayne King isn't going to be what he felt. I'm never going to know what memories those songs brought to mind - and maybe that's the thing that really bothers me, that I couldn't spend enough time with him listening to all this and hearing the stories.
Shigata ga nei, as they say in Japan. There's nothing to be done about it.