For dozens of years Tony Bennett has been at the top of the singing game in the United States. He's sold millions and millions of his copies of music. One of my friends worked as an agent in the company that provided security for him and she scored me an interview with him. I was to meet him at his apartment which was directly across the street Central Park, located in New York City. His apartment was near the top floor and overlooked the park and you could also see where all of the horses and carts were. It was definitely an interesting place to live.
As soon as I entered the apartment, I was greeted by a little white Poodle name Boo. Standing directly behind him was Tony Bennett, taller and handsomer than I ever imagined he'd be. "Come on in he said, don't let my dog Boo scare you. I hope you like dogs!" I assured him that I loved dogs. He asked me if I'd like something to eat or drink and we walked into the living room. The walls were filled with beautiful paintings and he mentioned how he had done all of them.
"So you're an artist as well as a singer?" I asked.
"I try as hard as I can!" he said in a jokingly, charming voice. He showed me a lot of the artwork that he'd been working on and it was absolutely beautiful. Somehow you don't imagine a singer as famous and talented as Tony Bennett is to be an artist as well. We both sat on two couches looking out over the park. Boo jumped up on Tony's lap and he petted him happily as I started the interview. He told me about his early days as a singer and how he'd become friends with Frank Sinatra and all of the other famous singers of that time who were also popular. "I always like Frank," he said. "I was really shaken up when he died." I told him that I had known Frank Sinatra too so we both sat there comparing our stories about Frank. "I don't think there's ever been a singer as popular as Frank was," Tony explained. "He had an almost magic quality about him. And although he can be a real smart alic, whenever he opened his mouth to sing, he totally captures the audience in his hands." We kept talking about other singers that we knew and Tony never said a bad word about anybody. He was a totally positive kind of guy. "I love music," he said. "It's been my life for years. But I love art just as much. Nothing makes me feel better than to get a paintbrush in my hand and just let it rip. In fact tomorrow night I'm having an art show and I'd love for you to come."
The paper had sent me to the city for a week, so I told him I'd be able to go. "Great," he said. "I'd love to show you a lot of my art! Maybe you could take some pictures of it to put in your story?" I asked him which he liked better: singing or art. He frowned a little. "That's a very hard question because I love both of them. We sat and talked for awhile and I told him I was originally from New Jersey and that my father loved his music more than any other singer. "I'm doing a show in New Jersey," he said. "Would you like for your parents to go?"
I knew they would be thrilled. "Sure! They'd love to come see you sing!" He told me he'd leave tickets at the door for all of us. I stayed and talked to him for about an hour, took lots of notes, and as I left he reminded me about the art show the following night. I told him one of my friends was in town with me and if it'd be alright if she