I started my vacation last week by attending a concert at Roy Thomson Hall, where a couple of 80-year-olds showed all us younger folks that they aren't just getting older, they're getting better.
Oscar Peterson and Hazel McCallion combined his famous fingers and her famous mug to host a sold-out fundraising concert for World Vision that certainly lived up to expectations.
Although the desire to pry open wallets with sad words and sad pictures must have been overwhelming, organizers kept the proselytizing to a minimum (a nice video by concert promoter Ron Duquette) and the music to a maximum. That was just fine with the jazz crowd that showed up.
Despite what was obviously a long, long walk for Peterson from the wings to the piano bench, he and his crack outfit (Ulf Wakenius on guitar, Alvin Queen on drums and Toronto's own Dave Young on bass) didn't disappoint.
It took a couple of numbers for him to get his famous digits unlimbered, but the wait was worth it.
He gave us a taste of his huge catalogue of music, although we didn't get to hear some of his best-known work such as Wheatland and Hymn To Freedom. When you're at the top of your game for 50 years, the choices get a might tricky.
While he continues to swing with the best of them (as he showed on Kelly's Blues and a song which I believe was called BBQ Blues), the good doctor, who has at least 16 honourary degrees, is showing a growing affinity for ballads in his later years.
When Summer Comes and, especially his heartfelt tribute to the late bassist in his group Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen, a song called In The Silence Of The Woods, were moving. Remember when the knock on Peterson was that, while he wowed us all with technical dexterity, he didn't connect with the audience emotionally as well as other keyboard giants?
Some critics even said the same thing, incredibly, about the singing of Peterson's old Jazz At The Philharmonic partner, Ella Fitzgerald.
It was codswallop then and it's still codswallop.
As Peterson edges closer to the pantheon of jazz greats he eulogizes in his ballad called Elegy, his music acquires an added intensity and a bittersweet edge that is unmistakable and riveting.
As several standing ovations attested, it was a pleasure just to share Peterson's musical company again.