, I found myself drifting back to the fourth grade, to the day I truly discovered her voice.
I quickly consulted an expert on the matter: my mom, who as a teenager in the '60s, had been listening to Tina since she first made hits with her then-husband Ike. I was hypnotized. The burst of sparkling, silver sequins onstage. The voice that could go from the deepest growl to a tender coo. The infectious smile and air kisses to the audience that made it seem like she really was happy we were all there. The kicks. The shimmies. The staccato steps as she worked the entire stage. As my uncle who had waited in line for hours to buy the tickets for our lawn seats would say after the show: "Kids, tonight you've been in the presence of greatness.
In 2008, I was able to repay my parents for the gift they had given me: I got us tickets to a San Jose, California, stop on Tina's farewell tour. Tina was nearing 70 at that point, but she still had the moves and the energy. Earlier this year, I took Mom and Dad to see "Tina: The Musical" in New Orleans during its post-Broadway run across the U.S.
Watching the 2021 documentary that Tina called her goodbye to the public, I also understood how she was retraumatized over the decades by interviewers who asked her to describe, again and again, how she got away from Ike, while overlooking greater career accomplishments that were disconnected from her ex-husband. And that was on top of the racism and sexism she faced in the music industry.