The Norah Story

A while back I started to tell a story about Norah Jones, but I got distracted and never finished. So here it is now.

When Ms. Jones' massive hit CD came out, I really wanted it, but I didn't want to pay full price. I don't know why. I just had some kind of issue with it.

So I was looking for it used, and I was looking for it used, and finally I found it, in Mondo Kim's East Village location, which for those who don't know, is perhaps the single snootiest record store to exist on the planet, ever. Just by way of description, they have a section called "mainstream," into which they put, I don't know, REM and Radiohead, that takes up maybe one-eighth of the floor space. The rest of the store is devoted to indie, noise, experimental, stuff that I have never heard of before and will never heard of again. Typically, the music they're playing while you're browsing gives you a headache and makes you want to flee.

Imagine my dilemma as I stood there staring at the $7 copy of the Norah Jones CD. "I want it, but if I buy it here, I'm going to be sneered at," went my thought process.

Covetousness won out over pride. I bought it. And as I walked away from the cash register I heard one clerk say to the other, "See, I told you someone would buy that."

Here's a song not on that CD.

Norah Jones - New York City