When I saw Frank Sinatra perform at The Universal Amphitheatre in Los Angeles, the whole aroma of the evening burrowed into my memory. The theater is gone now and so is Frank. But after all these years I can still smell the evening.
I was one of thousands ensconsed in the darkness of this gigantic space, my eyes focused on the lone spotlight that Sinatra inhabited like he owned the sun, and when he turned his head in my direction and sang “Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you,” magic happened. Every other person in that audience disappeared. I mean “whoosh.” All that was left was Frank and me. He was singing to me. Just me.
Frank Sinatra had that ineffable “thing.” I saw it and felt it that night and certainly hear it today in his recordings. It’s like he’s talking to me and it feels like I’m part of the conversation. This is an astonishing gift of inclusion.
He is my favorite singer. That said, I would not have wanted to take him to lunch.
This is a tough one for me… Living with ambiguity, residing in the uncomfortable gray zone of life. We are all a mixed-bag of stuff and Frank certainly exemplified this. He had that enormous talent. He could be astonishingly generous but he also treated people miserably. I have read the stories and I’ve heard a couple first hand. He is not someone I would have wanted to hang out with.
I bring this perplexing contradiction of emotions to Party Night at the Saban Theater in Beverly Hills. It’s Saturday, December 12 and this night is Frank Sinatra’s 100th Birthday. His son, Frank Jr., is singing with a 32-piece orchestra and telling stories about dear old dad.
I saw the advertisement for this show six months ago.
“You want to go with me?” I ask my husband.
He laughs and says “have a good time.”
So I get online, study the seating chart and claim MY SEAT. It’s second row mezzanine, as center as center can be.
The night finally arrives and with my hot ticket in hand I am swallowed in a crush of L.A.’s beautiful people. This audience is inter-generational. Young ladies are wrapped in mink stoles. Older women are wearing high heels and fashionable ensembles with expensive fabric and arrays of fancy jewelry around their necks and wrists.
I am not one of them.
I hunker down in MY SEAT, brush the lint off my jeans (well…they are nice jeans…and clean), push my unhip but totally utilitarian backpack purse under the seat, and arrange my jacket just so…like a warm pillow against my back. My nest is feathered.
I am one person in a sea of couples and groups. That’s when “they” arrive at my row. The very tall woman with the short cropped blond hair and hip blue glasses looks down at me and with stunning hubris announces that “my husband and I want to sit together. Please move over one seat.”
Are you picturing this? They purchased one ticket to my left and one ticket to my right and she wants me to move.
This is one of those moment… Too often in my life I back down, acquiesce and later flog myself for doing so. Then again, what’s the big deal, moving over one seat?
These two opposing thoughts rush through my head. But this woman has such a haughty air of entitlement that she pisses me off.
“No,” I say.
“Why not?” She snaps back.
“Because this is MY SEAT.”
In a huff, she sits to my left as her husband settles to my right and I pull my arms close to my body like a figure skater beginning her spin. I’m thinking to myself “this is going to be a LONG night.”
But the husband is an amiable guy. After a few uncomfortable moments he turns to me and asks if I know what’s going to happen at the show. Do I look like a freaking oracle?
“You like Sinatra?” I ask.
“Well my wife does.”
Oh…so the mister got dragged along for the ride.
“Well at least you are here. My husband is home. Asleep.” I laugh. We laugh. This brief interlude softens the missus and, like that, she and I start chatting. She tells me that her parents played Sinatra records on Sunday mornings during the family breakfast. “All The Way” is her favorite song. She’s a physical therapist and makes house calls.
“What do you do?” she asks.
“I’m a musician and singer.”
“What kind”?
“The kind that gets paid.” I chirp.
She turns out to be an okay person. Not someone I’d hang out with, but okay. Both of them. And I stay in MY SEAT.
The concert begins and the adoring crowd “ooo and ahh” as Frank Jr. sings those iconic songs and the trombone wails on “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” They purr as the pictures of young Sinatra, middle-aged Sinatra and finally Sinatra on the memorial postage stamp appear on the big screen behind the orchestra. It’s a love-in.
But I’m not feeling it.
These days my adoration is tempered with a measure of ambivalence. Truth is messy. People are a complicated concoction of ingredients. We can be kind and cruel. Wise and stupid. Self-centered and open-hearted. The list goes on and on.
I’m not solving this one. Just living it.
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PROGRAM NOTE:
My ukulele group, The CC Strummers, really rocked our holiday party. My idea of a good time is getting the audience in on the fun. I put together a short video of our program. It’s two minutes and forty-eight seconds of joy. Click HERE to watch.
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2016 is looming large. Another 366 days of UNKNOWN. Leap year, it is. What makes you happy? Or content?
Good health for sure… Hanging out with people who feel like sunshine on a cloudy day? Yummy food? Homemade. A job well done, whatever it is? A solid night’s sleep or a deep dreamy afternoon nap? A clear black sky where you see wisps of the Milky Way? The husband you love? Wife? Kids? Friends? Dog? Kitty? Catching all the green lights? A place to call home, with floor, ceiling, walls, heat and pictures on the wall?
I hope you have lots of sweet moments to remember in the New Year.
Cali Rose
From N. T.
So much in this story. I’m glad you stayed your ground and you actually probably got more respect from this lady by not moving. She may have been a total bitch the whole night if you had!
I had the honor? pleasure? of being in Frank Sinatra and Frank Sinatra Jr’s orchestras. I played in Vegas with Frank Sr in 1985. He sat on his stool next to the violin section singing in a low gravelly voice. I could hear the ice in his glass clinking the sides and the smoke from his cigarette seeped across the orchestra. Both the glass and cigarette were in one hand so that he could hold the mic with his other. He wasn’t terribly friendly…just very business like. His son Frank Jr was conducting us.
Fast forward to November 2015. I’m playing with Frank Jr. Big screen behind us such as what you saw at your show. He was all business at the rehearsal until he heard us play an unusually hard passage (these were hard charts…the original dogeared Nelson Riddle charts from his father. He turned around to the string section and said “I rarely ever hear that played correctly and this section got it on the first take” Something else happened after that….he went over to the side of the stage and started handing out bottles of water to us. We had been there quite awhile by then without a break. During the break, he stayed on the stage to work at his desk. A few of us thanked him and told him we played with his father. We also thanked him for being so kind to us. His reply was short and simple. “Of course, we’re all in the same Union” He was all business like…very gruff, but certainly had respect for fellow musicians who worked hard. Frank Jr hates the media. I’ve see interviews where he is quite short and belligerent, but that day, he was a gem….to us, at least.
Cali Rose
From L.
Thank you for sharing your Sinatra evening with us! Cali. Who, of our generation, isn’t a fan of Frank Sinatra. We were living in Las Vegas during the Rat Pack days–as a matter of fact our son was born at Sunrise Hospital there. All the nurses in the maternity ward “disappeared” on us. Judy Garland was being treated for a nervous breakdown and they wanted to see if any celebrities would visit. ( No, Mr. S. did not turn up.) It was o.k., though. My son was my “gift” He was bathed in a golden light–which turned out to be a touch of jaundice–but I believed otherwise.
My husband, lucky guy–met Sammy Davis, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. They came to see the show one night. (Las Vegas production of Flower Drum Song). Oh yes, while on tour and in L. A. I saw Mr. Sinatra going into the Capitol Records building. I “think” he smiled at me–or maybe it was at my two children. Close enough!
Cali Rose
From T.
I had the exact same experience at the opening of the Phil’s fall season. Same fancy folks, sold out crowd, happiness seat…and couple who wanted me to move so they could sit next to each other! I didn’t move, either, got talking to the husband, which thawed the designer-dressed wife, and we all had a marvelous time. If I got their names, I don’t remember them, but what are the odds they are the same ones?
Cali’s Reply: Wouldn’t that be something?
Cali Rose
From L.
Love reading your newsletters. I could identify with acquiescing to others’ demands and being sorry later. Good for you! You took charge of your situation and wound up getting to talk to two people rather than one. I enjoy most of Sinatra’s songs, but agree, he had poor social skills.
Cali’s Reply: Thank you. It’s hard not to demonize people for bad behavior, but I do try to come from my heart. This is a work-in-progress. Believe me.
Cali Rose
From S.
I have a Sinatra story as well. I have a girlfriend who used to live in NYC. At that time her boyfriend was Joe E. Lewis, and she told me of the time he had a suit custom made for himself and was so thrilled about how good he looked in it. He wore it to meet Sinatra and some friends of his at a bar and was telling Sinatra how happy he was with the suit, what a great job the tailor did on it, etc., and Sinatra took his glass of wine and upended it over the suit, saying that he thought that improved the appearance. His friends all laughed and Joe E. Lewis, who was crushed, did his best to go along with the joke. According to my girlfriend, later that night when he came home he was crying.
Well, some time elapsed and a package arrived. It contained three new custom made suits from that same tailor. Sinatra had ordered them for him.
I think Sinatra definitely had more than one screw rattling around in his head, but at least he tried to make up for his boorish behavior. But not a word was ever said.
Cali’s Reply: What a meanie and a troubled soul…
Cali Rose
From E.
Thanks for the charming letter and description of your recent Frank Sinatra performance. In 1962 or 63, Rae and were in Israel and Sinatra was performing at a local auditorium. Personally, I always found his style too slow for my taste but the rest of the world adored him and my wife was a fan so we went. The place was loaded with people and we were fortunate to have seats about 8 rows back and in the center. In the middle of the concert I started to cough and couldn’t stop. Old blue eyes stared at me with such intensity that he scared the cough right out of me. “If looks could kill”.
The video of your uke club sums up all the evidence of the fun that oldsters (like me) have with the uke.
Cali’s Reply: Thank you sharing your up-close and personal experience with Sinatra. I wouldn’t have wanted to piss that guy off. What a way to get “healed.” That’s a joke, but not really. Onward and upward, huh.
Cali Rose
From H.
Cali, wow, do I resonate with you about old Blue Eyes. When I painted the apt this year, I finally took down his framed photo signed, To Harry from Frank…haha. What’s a Chinaman doing with a mni shrine of a Jersey Italian? I also have a memory of seeing him perform…and as a child, recall the bobby soxers at the Golden Gate Theatre in San Francisco doing what teenagers do best…shriek!
Wish I lived down your way. Could use some good uke fellowship.
Cali’s Reply: I hear you. I’m trying to let go of mementos too and hope they last a little longer in my heart. You can be an honorary member of The CC Strummers. We are happy to share our fellowship.
Cali Rose
From R.
Hahaha. If people are polite about it, I just move. I’ve done it on airplanes and theaters. I even look out for people who get separated, and if I can, I’ll arrange for them to sit together.
But for some reason, karma has not blessed me on the opposite direction. People rarely accommodate me when the tables are turned. No big deal, as I see it I will fall asleep that night and wake up in the morning.
I don’t let people get me down. That’s how I always win. Love ya.
Cali’s Reply: I’m sitting in your row next time!
Cali Rose
From T.
dear cali
i read each word and they all were like you, to the point. i felt it all.
but the two words that jumped out at me were in your post script. about these lives we live.
Self Centered and Open Hearted
That is my seat and I am sticking to it. Today. Thanks for the thoughts.
Cali’s Reply: I hear you… And thank you.
Cali Rose
From M.
Very moving and thought provoking. Bravo for staying you YOUR SEAT.
Cali’s Reply: Thank You!
Cali Rose
From N.
Good for you for sticking to your guns and for being willing to warm up to the couple. I know what you mean about Frank Sinatra – beautiful voice, not so beautiful person.
Cali’s Replay: Thanks for the support Nancy. It’s hard to take a stand for myself sometimes. But what the hell.
Cali Rose
From K.
Your writings are so interesting, true, and fun to read… I can’t believe you kept “your”seat, and then had friendly conversation with both of them.
I wudda gone with you…
I saw Sinatra twice in the early 60s at The Sands in Las Vegas. Even got his autograph on a Sands postcard. (still have it).
I saw Michael Feinstein in concert about a month ago. He sang Sinatra music from “The Great American Songbook,” and he was excellent. He was not impersonating Sinatra, but he did his music better than anyone else I have heard.
Cali’s Reply: I’m glad there are great singers out there doing Sinatra songs and keeping that music viable and relevant. Feinstein, Michael Buble, Steve Tyrell, Seth MacFarland, Harry Connick Jr., etc. And a bunch of ukulele groups around the world!
Cali Rose
From A.
Love your blog. You are not only a wonderful musician and entertainer, you are a wonderful writer. BTW, I would have stayed in the seat also if someone approached me like the lady approached you.
Cali’s Reply: I know folks disagree with me sometimes. And that is mightily okay. But when someone says “yes me too,” well that’s good as chocolate.
Cali Rose
From G.
You have done such a wonderful thing for the seniors and for music. They are all showing interest and having fun, which for some may be the first time in many months.
The video is just great.
Cali’s Reply: Well both you and I know that music heals our hearts. And minds and bodies.
Cali Rose
From P.
I enjoyed the blog re: Sinatra etc. And especially the excerpts of the CC Strummers Christmas program. My group, the Uketones, did a program for our senior center on 12/18 and had a wonderful audience. Did a sing along of traditional holiday tunes ranging from White Christmas to Silent Night. I incorporated a bit of info about the background of many of the songs and people really seemed to like that. Instead of line dancers we had ” the Tappers” an incredible group of lively ladies who rehearse every week ( including one who uses a walker! ) I am so sorry that I don’t have a video to share, but again want to thank you for inspiring me to start this group five years ago. 5 years! I can’t believe it, and it brings me Joy every time I get together with them.
Cali’s reply: We are SO lucky to make music with other people. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
Mr. Shelley J. Cohen
Cali, I love you but I would have moved over so the couple could have sat together. Even Jesus turned the other cheek. Not like you. Lighten up.
Did you know that when Sammy Davis Jr. died, he was broke, Mr. Sinatra paid for his funeral, paid off the mortgage on his home so his Wife could keep the home and paid off all his debts.
Francis Albert was a very generous Man. Very charitable.
Let him rest in peace.
Shelley
Cali Rose
Sounds like I kind of pissed you off Shelley, my man. Yeah I could have moved. And I have been in situations where I have shifted a seat and no loss, no gain. But I was in no mood to turn the other cheek when this woman lorded over me with her haughty attitude and insisted I change my seat. A seat I had already been snuggled into for the last thirty minutes. It was warm and nice and mine.
I’ve heard stories about Sinatra’s generosity, which I strongly alluded to in my blog. But that does not negate his other behavior patterns which caused suffering in others. This is not an either/or situation. Just like life. We are a mixed-bag. I am immensely grateful for Frank Sinatra’s talent. My singing teacher and I spent hours listening to his recordings–his phrasing and the way he delivered lyrics with stunning authenticity, especially in his later years. But I tread lightly around people who can, at times, be toxic. That said I believe, with all my heart, that we are doing the best we can. All of us. Including Frank.
BTW, have a terrific New Years Shelley and take care of your sweet self.
Cali Rose
From L.
What makes me happy is to read your blog — it is always uplifting. My favorite singer was not frank but his sidekicks Dean and then Sammy.
Cali’s Reply: Dean Martin! Another GREAT crooner. He exuded joy and light-heartedness. And Sammy Davis Jr. What a fabulous singer and talented entertainer. And he suffered plenty in those days but still gave us his best. Thanks for sharing.
Cali Rose
From S.
Interesting, never cared for Frank Sinatra even though I have to admit he had a great voice. Couldn’t get past the fact that he was not a nice or good person. I preferred Perry Como because I had wonderful memories of listening to him on the radio when I was very young and at home with my mother as she worked around the house. I really know nothing about him but he had a genuinely kind face and loved watching his show when we had our first TV. He also sang songs for children. Perry had a clear pure voice, he might not have had the power of Frank Sinatra, his style was more light and alway put me in a happy mood.
Cali’s Reply: I really love Perry Como too. A great crooner and I could feel his sweetness. He wasn’t a bad boy or dangerous, like Sinatra. It was a relief to hear that kindness in his music. He was a barber and even after his first few hits, kept renewing his barber license…just in case this music stuff didn’t work out.
Linda Lew Kim
Cali – I, too, was a die hard Sinatra fan until this year. I used to listen to the Sinatra station on Sirius religiously. His songs took me back to places and feelings I remembered with a variety of emotions. And then, one day, I heard him sing, “Birds do it, bees do it, even JAPS in Japan do it”! Being an American born ex-internee, I felt sick, wounded, violated, incensed, offended, angry, and finally, incredibly sad. I couldn’t believe that the station and/or programmer could be so insensitive – could allow that particular recording to be aired. Although relocated to an internment camp over 73 years ago, the outrage that my American born pregnant mom felt then, coursed through my entire being after I heard that despicable word! Needless to say, for me, the Sinatra magic is gone . .
Cali Rose
Thank you Linda for sharing this. There are several folks in my ukulele group who were interned in camps during World War II. My stomach just goes numb when I think about it. When I read “The Voice” about Sinatra, it struck me that he was a very damaged soul. A pathological narcissist. I know this because I grew up with a mother who was also pathological. In a way, she’s been a great teacher to me. I was often on the receiving end of her self-centered behavior. I’ve concluded these people do not have the capacity for compassion or empathy, unless it serves them. I know that sounds brutal, but it’s been my personal experience. Sinatra could not fathom how this lyric change would affect people whose lives had been so profoundly changed. Uprooted and robbed in the most despicable ways. And as you note, this stuff stays with us. In our bones.
And yet, he was a master. This ambivalence drives my blog. And I guess we do what we have to do. I can understand how the magic is gone for you. For me, the magic is tinged with acid. But it’s still there.
BTW, one of my elder music friends had an encounter with Sinatra in one of the canyon neighborhoods of Los Angeles: Apparently Frank tried to run him off the road and shouted “Outta my way, peasant!”
Jill Freundlich
I loved how you described your “Frank” experience … from husband NOT interested to the “princess” who expected you to MOVE at her command. But I especially liked your honest assessment of the concert vis-a-vis the “man.”
I enjoy reading your e-mails and find them entertaining and positive. Keep them coming!
Also hope your husband’said wrist is fully healed. Wishing you both a healthy & happy New Year! Best regards, Jill
Cali Rose
Thank you Jill. Yes it was quite an evening. I’ve given up on “expectations” these days, except to expect the unexpected… (Say that one three times fast…ha ha ha). Craig’s wrist continues to heal. Get’s achy now and then, but hey, what body part doesn’t? All the best to you in the New Year!