Okay, stay with me on this one. It had to have been 82 or 83. My great aunt and great uncle were the founders of Angel Records, and the chairman of the metropolitan Opera of New York, respectively. My grandmother and grandfather were fashion designers. My mom was the black sheep of the family but occasionally we got invited to social get-togethers and parties at my grandmother's apartment on the east side. There were always musical personalities and celebrities there, although I was too young to really appreciate any of them. Although I do remember being introduced to Leonard Bernstein.
I don't remember this but my sister says at one of these parties Ravi Shankar, his then wife Sue Jones, and their daughter, Norah, were in attendance. Apparently, I had just gotten a big bowl of ice cream and the three or four-year-old Norah Jones came into the room where I was watching TV and asked for some. And apparently, my sister, who was watching everything, said that I got a spoof of ice cream held it out to Norah Jones and then teased her with it before finally saying, "no you can't have it," and eating it myself.
At which point she burst into tears, her mother came into the room and picked her up and asked what was wrong and when she said I wouldn't give me any ice cream, her mother said, "oh he's just a little boy, don't worry about it."
Again, I don't remember any of this, but apparently it made quite an impression when the truth got out of my teasing. If I ever meet Ms Jones, I will be sure to relate this same story.
I don't remember this but my sister says at one of these parties Ravi Shankar, his then wife Sue Jones, and their daughter, Norah, were in attendance. Apparently, I had just gotten a big bowl of ice cream and the three or four-year-old Norah Jones came into the room where I was watching TV and asked for some. And apparently, my sister, who was watching everything, said that I got a spoof of ice cream held it out to Norah Jones and then teased her with it before finally saying, "no you can't have it," and eating it myself.
At which point she burst into tears, her mother came into the room and picked her up and asked what was wrong and when she said I wouldn't give me any ice cream, her mother said, "oh he's just a little boy, don't worry about it."
Again, I don't remember any of this, but apparently it made quite an impression when the truth got out of my teasing. If I ever meet Ms Jones, I will be sure to relate this same story.