I just found out that Frank Sinatra died. I had kind of suspected, but I don’t remember knowing for sure until now. Well, when I say ‘knowing for sure’, it’s not that I actually know. That’s just what it says on the internet. He could still be working down the chip shop with Elvis for all I really know.
I was never really very emotionally attached to Old Blue Eyes. Some of his songs are nice and others are iconic such that they will ensure his legacy lives for a very long time; perhaps not as long as Mozart, or Beethoven – but long enough for him to have a quiet smile of satisfaction as he looks down (or up) on our realm from his current abode.
But, like I say – there’s no real emotional connection. I didn’t burst into a flood of tears or pull my hair out in an agony of loss on reading that he was gone. I simply shrugged and got on with writing this.
I guess when she answered 1998 after I asked her to pick a year between 1968 and 2016, she expected me to write about our wedding. But no – I’m a little more conniving than that. I immediately asked Uncle Google who died in that year. And you’ll never guess what the answer was!
How did you know I was going to say, Frank Sinatra?!