You really are! You're all winners. Kate Baldwin says so:
This album (with lyricist Sheldon Harnick) was recorded live at Feinstein's, btw. I was there! I remember crying through that song! But Feinstein's is no longer. Feinstein's was killed so that a tony, well-lit, mediocre feeding trough for the heavy of wallet and tight of face might live. I guess even the losers need somewhere to sit and relax and wash down a $60 strip steak with a $14 bottle of craft beer, but Feinstein's was a special place to me. It was never a cheap night out—oh lord, no—but it was within the realm of possibility. It was a glamorous, grownup New York experience that could be had: a cab ride through the park in the cold, a glass of wine, a plate of cheese and a bowl of nuts shared with a table of screwballs, a late Shirley Temple in the Library. A night at Feinstein's was warm and alive with the sound of music and corny between-songs chatter and the occasional dropping of silverware during a number, not the sound of anonymous rich people chewing to smooth jazz.
This town, you know: every day a little death.