I'd seen Etta James perform in concert four or five times—once in a line-up with Stevie Ray Vaugn, Joe Cocker and B.B. King at Pacific Ampitheater in Costa Mesa. And I was reminded of her rock to soul range in Los Angeles Times pop music writer Randall Roberts' appreciation piece. But I'd forgotten about this song until my friend Dean shared it on Facebook. His simple comment was wistful and true:
"Etta James provided one of the musical voices of my childhood. ... I can listen to this and close my eyes, and it's Friday night and I'm slow dancing in the gym after a football game. She was remarkable and we were blessed she sang to us."