Random Access

Believe it or not, tickets aren't moving that well for Feelings From The Heart: The Mayor's Valentine Tribute to Oscar Peterson.
About 600 tickets have been sold for the Feb. 14 concert in Hammerson Hall, which holds 1,300 patrons, for the jazzed-up tribute to OP being staged on the 87th birthday of his very favourite mayor.
The problem certainly isn't the lineup, which melds a collection of national and international stars nicely with a Mississauga-flavoured house band (Pat Collins on bass, Jake Langley on guitar, and Sly Juhas on drums) and several of our finest home-grown stars: Nancy Walker (just nominated for a National Jazz Award for her latest CD,) her Port Credit neighbour and owner of her own sensational solo record (finally) this year, Carol McCartney and Shannon Butcher whose first record will be out this fall.
Throw in Juno-award winner Molly Johnson, who will open the show before rushing off to another engagement and hotshot Linus Entertainment (yes, a Mississauga company and label) singer Sophie Millman and you have a fine assembly of female vocalists.
That's BEFORE you get to the pianists: OP contemporary and fellow Montreal native Oliver Jones, the brilliant David Braid who seems to be putting out a record a month, Walker and Bill King, the Toronto jazz Everyman who produces the JazzFM91 concert series and produced the sterling 2003 tribute to Oscar at the same venue.
King is going to play Tenderly, the standard that became Oscar's first hit from the famous Carnegie Hall concert and, perhaps, "21 Park Road a piece I wrote and recorded on our tribute to Oscar - From The Heart commemorating The Advanced School of Contemporary Music the site where I studied with him in 1963," says King.
The show will finish with the Oscar Peterson Public School choir.
Like the highly successful tribute concert to Peterson at Roy Thomson Hall this one will include personal reminiscences from some of those who knew him well, including the mayor, his good friend, pianist and former Ontario Premier Bob Rae, clarinetist and close friend Phil Nimmons, McCallion, Ron Duquette of Ad Venture Sight and Sound who will provide some film highlights of the 2003 concert, Peterson Public School Principal Caroline Mochrie who will recall what a boost he provided to her school and David Toycen, president of World Vision in Mississauga.
World Vision was one of Oscar's favourite charities and will be the beneficiary of the sale of tickets, which are $40 and $30 apiece.
Duquette is rather mystified by the slow response to date. "This is a chance to hear some really nice music with the love of your life for $30 and have a really good time," he says.
One of the first to get his tickets was Jim Tovey, a lifetime Oscar fan who sits on the City's heritage committee and specializes in fixing up heritage houses in his private life. He's currently in the midst of supervising a group of Habitat For Humanity volunteers in Brampton who are fixing up an 1861 heritage house that was moved half-a-mile to a new site to make a home for two lucky families.
Tovey says Peterson's death hit him hard. So hard that he sat down and tried to sort out some of his feelings by writing about him.
Here is his personal tribute to Dr. Peterson called The Night Train after what is probably Oscar's most famous album:

Ch_ch ch ch, Ch ch ch, Ch ch ch. The sound was like brushes on a snare and the gentle sideways motion woke the well-dressed young man from his slumber. He was alone in the coach sitting on a worn blue leather seat, his arm resting comfortably on the burnished brass armrest
It was almost dawn and the train was rounding a long slow curve as it headed toward the station, its metal wheels shuffling back and forth in their tracks. He was not quite sure where he was or where he was going, yet he felt a calm resolve that this is where he should be.
The strength of youth coursing through his body seemed to vibrate to the tips of his fingers, and as he sat staring at his hands the door at the end of the coach slid open. A porter walked through it with his pillbox hat, dark blue blazer, and pocket watch attached to his grey vest.
"You feeling alright son," he said with a familiar smile.
"Yes, actually, I feel good. My hands feel really strong. Where am I?" The young man asked.
"Why you’re on the night train," the porter said, pulling his watch from the vest pocket “We will be arriving at the station in exactly two minutes and eighteen seconds.”
The young man stared out the window into the ever-growing light, content that he was finally arriving at his destination. “How’s the fishing here?” he enquired. “They say the fly fishing in the river is heaven. I’ve been itching to go there for a long time.”
As the porter spoke the train began to slow down, a sweet, majestic sound could be heard in the distance. "Is that a band? Do they have a good band here?" The young man was instantly excited.
"Oh, they have the best band you will ever hear anywhere. They don’t greet the train too often though. Matter of fact, I haven't seen them on the platform in some time now. Do you play?" the porter asked as he leaned towards the window and tried to peer up the tracks.
"I play piano."
The music was getting clearer now and it truly was the most glorious swinging jazz band the young man had ever heard. "Do they have a piano player?"
A knowing smile passed the porter's face as he saw how eager the young man now was to pull into the station. "They have a few piano players. There’s one fella with a big hat that plays like the wind. Are you any good?" the Porter teased.
"I try to be the best I can be, sir" the young man shyly responded.
"Well son, if you're going to play with this band, you got to be the best."
The train slowed to a walk as it entered the rail yard the music seemed to dance in the air of the coach.
"I don’t hear a piano," the young man said as he ran to the open door of the car. "Why isn’t someone playing piano?" He could not believe such incredible music was missing a great instrument. His great instrument.
"Well, I'm not sure. There's always someone playing. You're right though, I don't hear a piano."
As the porter replied the platform came into view. The sun had now risen. The entire platform was filled with hundreds of jumping, swinging, smiling musicians, all speaking the same beautiful language, jazz. Above it all soared the voice of an angel.
As the train came to a halt, the music stopped and the young man found himself face to face with the source of that magical voice.
"Fitz?" he asked quietly. The air was now still and silent. The young woman motioned with her hand and the assembled musicians parted to reveal an upright piano, the bench turned invitingly towards the coach. A large man with a broad smile and a bowler hat leaned on the piano and pointed to the bench.
"Well, I never," said the porter, breaking the silence enveloping the morning air. "The best you can be must be something real special, son."
The young man stepped out onto the platform. "I'm going to stay here for a while, will you coming back?" he asked as the porter pulled up the bottom step and reached for his whistle.
"I've got one more run to do, then I thought I might go up river and do a little fishing, if you're interested?"
"I'd like that, sir" the young man replied.
The porter held his whistle up. "In the meantime, I think you have some new charts to learn."
The whistle blew, the coach door closed and the train slowly pulled out of the station. Ch_ch ch ch, Ch ch ch, Ch ch ch.