How I fell in love with jazz

It's Saturday night and I'm listening to this program, which has been my constant companion for the last dozen or so years.

I came across it purely unexpectedly, and virtually by accident, which makes its discovery even more satisfying. As a pop-addled child of the 1970s, I finally grew up musically and began to shed the rock world that didn't last much longer than my youth.

This host doesn't spin any junk. None of the smooth or yuppie jazz, the odious Kenny G sound that might be easy on the ears. But it ain't jazz. The classics, ranging chronologically from the Duke Ellington and late Big Band era, with a big sweeping dive into the Bop period and up through the late 1960s and John Coltrane: this is the basic discography. There's some Louis Armstrong, and as well as Diana Krall and a young Russian pianist, Eldar. Mix in some Latin jazz from the likes of Tete Montoya. A personal and unique stamp is what makes it such a treat. 

And the special occasions, even the sad ones, have been most memorable. The week Frank Sinatra died, nothing was played but Ol' Blue Eyes for the entire five-hour show.

It's one of the many reasons I'm tuning in now, and hope I will be for many years to come.