Francis Albert

It doesn't matter where I am, the minute I hear Sinatra I will get a smile on my face.  If I'm already smiling, it only gets bigger. In 1973, Sinatra could be heard on the radio, his golden years only ten years before, you could touch them. My earliest Sinatra memories were when I was two or three years old and was playing in the living room with blocks. The radio was on and the song "Send in the Clowns" came on the radio.  I remember his voice being one that I liked very much. Other memories were Sinatra and Montovani during nap time. This was before I started school.  I'd request one side of Sinatra and one side of  this Montovani record we had. It was a struggle to stay awake through both. At night it was the same thing, Sinatra and Montovani.

Sinatra was not left behind in childhood, he accompanied me through my school years. It was not easy being a Sinatra fan. The Duran Duran years were especially painful, Sinatra was "old lady music"  running neck and neck with Lawrence Welk re-runs, SAS factory shoes and Carol Wright catalogs.  It wasn't just Sinatra, I was into the Andrew Sisters, Dean Martin, Tony Bennett, Be-Bop and Big Band Jazz.  Living in a small town and not sharing the same likes and dislikes of  my peers made life rather difficult and then I met Claude. She knew who Jean Cocteau was and things were good again.

Claude was not into Sinatra, she was more contemporary: Simon and Garfunkle and the Bee Gees. I'd always have a record player (or two) with me. When I left the dorms I began building my Sinatra record collection. It was rather easy, always a dozen or so under  easy listening.  When I hear him sing, memories don't always come flooding back, I'm not  always catapulted back in time. This is good because not all my moments shared with Sinatra were good.  What does frequently happen is where I am becomes a future memory.