88 By AL YOUNG GAIN AN HOUR, LOSE SOME LIGHT HOMAGE TO NAT KING COLE (1919-1965) Today we turned the clock back one full hour. Tonight new darkness falls upon us whole. Nuanced with shade and chill, we slow, we flower. We flower into winter. Hearts and soul fly out the window into winter. Years of lightlessness. Such deprivation makes our people of the southern hemispheres the entertainers. Darkness, ice and snowflakes dance and laugh and sing. What’s going on? Just ask the wind that whips and whispers now through everyone of us. Big time has gone — but where? An hour lost, some light. Oooo, wow. Intimacy, the voice, the vocal over ice, a comfort, coffee table, coffee, sugar, heat to taste, some other drink, a cigarette. You, Nat King Cole, ‘Nature Boy’ of the ‘Frim-Fram Sauce’ and the ‘Sweet Lorraine,’ ‘Straighten Up and Fly Right,’ whispering, humming, ooo, crooning us, masking your piano chops. Close cousin Inez, ‘For Sentimental Reasons,’ kept the replay lever on replay. You played us through WW2, Korea and Vietnam. Damn! Where could we stumble from there? Wham! You, heir to Art Tatum. You, so smooth and hip, the hippest. You, poetry-interpreter of 20th century America, North and South, you thrill us still, our voice of choice, a sigh. The lush and luscious sound of you, a treat. The early Trio-you let three of you unwind 3-minute takes that took and hold our breath.