Chairman of the Board, Frankie, Ol’ Blue Eyes, Sinatra. Today would have been his 97th birthday. Sinatra is a huge chunk of the soundtrack to my life. When I was a little girl there was an ad for beer featuring Frank and my Dad would yell out, “Sinatra,” every time it came on.
Morgan and I would copy Dad and could identify “The Voice” at a very young age. Apparently Mom’s friends thought it was odd that a four and three-year old knew who Sinatra was. If they could see me now!
Frank even sang my favorite Christmas song. I know my middle name is Noel, but that is one of my least favorite songs ever. Do not sing it to me unless you know all the verses. Actually, don’t sing to me.
I remember sitting in our backroom at Christmas time, watching the fog roll in over the (then) dirt field and looking for Rudolph’s nose. The nose turned out to be the red flashing light at the oil refinery, but the song echoed really well in our new surround sound speakers. So, when I hear this song, it reminds me of when Christmas was awesome and full of Barbies.
Most people my age don’t like his music because it’s “old and boring.” Ah, yes because my generation is full of lyrical geniuses who produce classics such as this: I beat the Pussy Up/Make it shake, Like a vibrator/Laugh now, I’mma make you cry later/I’mma get deep in it, Tomb Raider/All in the crib, Room Raiders.
Frank’s version goes like this: There’s an oh, such a hungry, yearning, burning feeling inside of me /And its torment won’t be through /Till you let me spend life makin’ love to you /Day and night, night and day.
They are both singing about wanting to have sex. Trust me, Frank got laid more than God and never said anything as crude as the crap men tell me on a daily basis. As a woman, I would much rather have a guy whisper the eloquent lyrics of Cole Porter in my ear, than hear about him wanting to “beat my pussy up.” Ouch. No thanks, you cad.
People try to imitate him, but it’s not the same. Buble? Nice try. Harry Connick Jr.? Getting better. Connick did the entire soundtrack for ‘When Harry Met Sally’ EXCEPT for the song during the most pivotal scene of the film. You know the one. Every girl hopes and wishes this will happen to them…but it never will, trust me on this. Rob Reiner (the director) said he insisted that scene HAD to have Sinatra. I guess you could say, it had to be him.
See how right Rob was.
While driving with my Dad after a particularly bad break-up (is there any other kind?) he insisted I listen to the instrumental part of this song. Looking back, I think it was bull and he was really trying to get me to listen closely to the lyrics, but the entire song is a treat really and has become one of my favorite Sinatra tunes. Remember it for your next break up, it might help you out as well.
I will say, this next one is a great song to get a good, angry, cry out to during that same unfortunate event. You know the angry cry, everyone does it, even my cold, black heart has done it at least once.
Nobody could sing a better “F U” song than Frank either.
As in most of his song, he really builds it up, so the ending is completely satisfying. Not a lot of people can do that and when it’s done well, it makes all the difference. (I know how that sounded, but I’m keeping it. You filthy animals.)
Speaking of effing. This is a great song to listen to when you’re overwhelmed and thinking, “Eff, this.” This song reminds me of my Grandma, who yells, cigarette in hand, at the radio when this comes on, “Get up there, Frank! Yea, boy!”
I don’t expect every one to love Sinatra as much as I do, but celebrate Francis’ birth and give his music a chance. Use your mentality, you might actually like it.