I am not a crier.

When I moved to the Tampa Bay area, way back when...I was on a collision course with a truly great event...the reopening of "The Wonder Theatre"...now known as the Tampa Theater. They had refurbished this remarkable concert hall. True to the Cubano flavor of parts of Tampa, like Ybor City...when you walk into the theater, the illusion of walking outdoors into a Spanish courtyard is created, complete with a twinkling, starry sky. This was my favorite place to go in Tampa.

Here was the line-up for consecutive weeks (I made it to all of them): Herbie Mann. The Count Basie Orchestra. Grover Washington Jr.. Maynard Fergsuson. Stanley Clarke.

And The Man.

One funny note about this series occured during the Grover Washington Jr. concert. I took my parents, who happened to be in town and we had the best seats in the house...front row, balcony. Well, the quartet came out and started playing. (my parents watched the "bubble guy", Lawrence Welk on Sunday night... and my mom would sing Que Sera, Sera once in a while, but that was the depth of their interest in music). After around 10 minutes of Grover Washington Jr., my mom whispered to me, "When are they going to start?"

All of the concerts (there were more, but I can't recall all of them) were excellent. EXCELLENT! But, when Ray Charles was escorted out onto the stage by his manager, I became so over-whelmed, that I burst into tears.

Ray F. Charles...

Excuse me...but I'm getting over-whelmed again.