Author’s Note: This post is dedicated to Bernie Kerman. Ring-a-ding-ding, baby.
As you undoubtedly know by now, this Saturday, December 12, marks the hundredth birthday of Francis Albert Sinatra. Born in Hoboken, New Jersey, he died on May 14, 1998 in Los Angeles, California.
He’s buried in Cathedral City. I heard that his family sent him off with a bottle of bourbon, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, some Tootsie Rolls, cherry Lifesavers and a roll of dimes for the pay phone- just in case he wanted to get in touch.
What a life he led. And how lucky for the rest of us that he took us along for that talented roller coaster love-sick ride.
For the record, Ol’ Blue Eyes and I never actually met. But our paths did cross a couple of times.
If they asked me, I could write a book…
I guess it all started before I was born. My mother was one of those bobby soxers who screamed and swooned over Frankie in the forties. Take a gander at her teen idol.
Skinny, not much to look at, but the voice was already on its way to becoming The Voice. Now have another listen as early Frankie teams up with the legendary Harry James on this smasheroo.
Of course we all know the legend. Enormous fame and fortune. Here’s what being on top of the world sounds like.
And then vocal problems, changing musical tastes and Ava Gardner did him in. Watch this and you can see why she devastated him.
Nobody, but nobody, could carry a torch like Frankie. He turned it into an art form. Here’s Ol’ Blue Eyes singin’ the blues.
Was that the coolest? The hat? The cigarette? Hey, how about another one for the road?
Sigh. Now there’s a guy who’s been disappointed by a dame- but still loves her anyway.
But no broad, chick, mouse, gal or female could ever get the best of Frank for long. Harry Cohn from Columbia finally came calling and begrudgingly granted him the role of Maggio in From Here to Eternity.
This is the scene that won him his Best Supporting Actor Academy Award and gave us Sinatra Part Two.
That’s the Sinatra with whom I (almost) encountered in Palm Springs in 1970.
I was spending the winter out there with my girlfriend, Vicki. Night after carefree night, we’d hit all the hot spots in town- Ruby’s Dunes, Dominick’s- and the refrain was always the same.
“You just missed Frank. He and Jilly and some girls just left.”
We’d have to content ourselves with looking at his photograph. It hung in pride of place in every restaurant in P.S.
In 1979 I got a little closer to the sun. We had rented a house on Via Alejo that winter and it had been Frank’s before he built his big one out in Rancho Mirage.
And although he had long since vacated it, it was still on the celebrity bus tour. Each day, holding baby Natasha in my arms, I would graciously smile and wave at the tourists as they craned their necks to glimpse what they thought still to be the Sinatra manse.
Sometime in the mid 80’s I finally caught up with The Man in person. We went to a last gasp “Rat Pack” tour and I saw him clown around on stage with his paisan, Dean Martin. This will give you some idea.
That looked like fun. Two handsome, worldly Italians having a great time.
But even Frank- as powerful as he was- couldn’t keep that old hitman Father Time from making his contract.
By coincidence, I happened to be in Chicago on May 14, 1998 (I had moved full-time to Colorado in 1996) when the news was announced that Frank had finally met his Maker.
All of the Rush Street was instantly plunged into grief. “My Kind of Town” and “My Way” could be heard coming out of every saloon, restaurant and club.
But The Legend never dies.
Thank goodness.
Public Service Announcement: If this post whetted your appetite, one of the greatest pieces of reportage ever is being reprinted in honor of the big birthday. It is THE definitive piece on Frank.
It’s called “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold” and it was masterfully written by Gay Talese. Click on the title and read it. It shouldn’t be missed.
One more thing before I go…
Because Frank always gave credit where credit was due, let me acknowledge here the fabulous songwriters he so beautifully interpreted.
“If They Asked Me I Could Write A Book” Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart
“All or Nothing At All” Arthur Altman and Jack Lawrence
“I’ve Got The World on a String” Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler
“I think of You’ from Piano Concerto Number 2 in C Minor by Sergei Rachmaninov, Jack Elliott and Don Marcotte
“One for My Baby” Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer
“What’s New?” Bob Haggart and Johnny Burke
“Love is Just Around The Corner” Lewis E. Gensler and Leo Robbin
“My Kind of Girl” Leslie Bricusse
“But Beautiful” Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Burke
“L-O-V-E” Bert Kaempfert and Milt Gabler
“I Get a Kick Out of You” Cole Porter
“Goody Goody” Matty Malnick and Johnny Mercer
“Guys and Dolls” Frank Loesser
“I Thought About You” Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Mercer
Here’s my personal favorite. If you’ve ever had to leave someone you’re crazy about, you can see that Frank nails it.
(And listen to the great Nelson Riddle’s snazzy arrangement. It’s the swingin’est, baby.)
Cent’ anni, Francis.
Miss Ross, As if I didn’t have enough to grade at the close of the semester, I’ve just read your essay and give you an A. I listened to all the song clips, and was just a tad surprised that you chose “My Kind of Town” ahead of the anthem about “… that toddlin’ town …” where “… I saw a man who danced with his wife …” Plus, of course, with my roots to the Big Apple, I’m still partial to “… start spreading the news …”
No time to embed links, but maybe that can be your homework assignment. And if you want a tribute crossword puzzle in time for the actual centennial, please have potential theme entries to me by 8 p.m. Friday night.
Thanks for the good grade, Professor. It looks great on my report card. I chose “My Kind of Town” because that’s what was playing everywhere here when Frank passed away. “Chicago” is a wonderful tune but so many people have covered it that it just didn’t work for me quite as well. And yes, “New Yawk, New Yawk” is another of his great anthems. “Start spreading the news…”
Great blog Ellen. My fav is the album Live at the Sands, recorded in 1965 or ’66 in their Copa room. He was more than capably backed by the Count Basie Orchestra and a budding young arranger named Quincy Jones. And, besides virtually every signature number you get a couple of funny (somewhat non PC) monologues as well as the sounds of the live audience. It’s been in every CD changer in every car I’ve owned. I saw him in concert in Chicago once and at Marios in Rancho another time, but did not even think about trying to approach him. Some things are just obviously off limits , and walking up to Frank and his party sitting at dinner was one. Ciao baby, it’s boozin time.
Solid, Mr. W. Thanks for the applause and the bird’s eye view. Your comment is a gasser. Love, Mia
Ellen,
You said it all!!
Nothing I can add except, if you notice, he ALWAYS gave credit to the writers and arrangers after each song. He never felt he was better than anyone else.
Class, baby….class!
That’s exactly why I did it. Tony Bennett does it, too. You’re right about the class, Bernie. World champion. Glad you approve and thanks. Ellen With The Laughing Face
Yes Ellen,
I get a kick otta’ you!
Thanks, Mr. K. You’re the top.
I HAD THE PLEASURE OF SEEING FRANK, SAMMY, AND DEAN (JOEY MIGHT ALSO HAVE BEEN THERE BUT WHO CARED) IN A VERY SMALL DINNER CLUB WITH MY PARENTS WHEN I WAS AROUND 12. WE WERE IN THE SECOND TABLE ON THE SIDE. MY FATHER DEFINITELY KNEW WHOSE PALM TO GREASE. THOSE GUYS, THE FRONT ROW FOR THE BEATLES (EVEN IF WE COULDN’T HEAR THEM), AND FRONT ROW FOR THE STONES – NEVER WILL FORGET.
Yes, your father was a real man about town. A good guy to know at Fritzel’s too, as I recall. (But I think we have to thank Tom Samuels’s dad for the Beatles tix.) Thanks for the great seats, X-1. Your ex one
My favorite album is “Come Fly with Me”, containing two of my all time favorites — “Autumn in New York” and “Moonlight in Vermont.” Excellent post, as always, Ellen.
Thank you, kind sir. “Moonlight in Vermont” is dreamy. It sends me. Thanks, John. Most appreciated.
By the way, my brother in law Bill Repsold (from Evanston HS originally) does Frank Sinatra in Karaoke bars and other places. He is really good. He has won several contests.
That’s very cool. I’d like to catch him some night in “the wee small hours of the morning.”