My Love for Amy Winehouse

Amy Winehouse came to my apartment last night, just after dinner and in time for the second bottle of Riesling. She came over in the form of her
Back to Black CD and we listened to its full throated Motown-inspired goodness.
It took me 40 minutes to realize I'll love her forever.
Released in December 2006 it had nestled into
the #2 spot on Billboard's Top 200 list by March 2008. As the album received both critical and commercial success I might be one of the last 2 or 3 people on this planet not to have heard
Rehab, the first track from the CD. (The others are likely to be
Canada's Minister of Health Tony Clement and some guy named Eddy.)
The lyrics to her songs are awesomely real. Drinking too much, wanting to spend time with Ray, sleeping with her ex-BF but not loving him and wanting forgiveness when the current BF comes around and catches her in flagrante delicto (she doesn't actually use
in flagrante delicto to describe the argument in the doorway of her apartment with the boyfriend, whom she loves, while her ex lays in her bedroom waiting for the storm to roll over). I got the impression of a modern day
Bessie Smith or
Billie Holliday; smart, talented, sensitive, passionate, difficult and full-on psychotic trouble.
Exactly the sort of woman with whom you want to smash your carefully constructed life to a thousand splinters.
So, if Amy shows up at your house, slightly drunk, with her mascara running, make sure you are fully stocked with Tangueray and tonic. Invite her in. Turn her up loud.
God, I love her.