Although the Golden Encyclopedia of Music focuses primarily on what is generically grouped as “classical”, whether composers, instruments, interpreters, performances, and more, it also includes singers and musicians who are considered influential and excellent interpreters of popular ballads. So although the encyclopedia, rightfully, includes longish articles on eminences like Johann Sebastian Bach, it also includes a brief entry for Francis (“Frank”) Albert Sinatra. Significantly, it has no entry for The Beatles or any of their members. One may disagree with the inclusions or exclusions; however, one ought to recognize that if the volume is going to include 20th Century popular music it surely must, and does, acknowledge Sinatra.

Although I knew about Mr. Sinatra since my childhood — he was ubiquitous for over half the century — I did not pay much attention to him until 1980. It was that year that he made news by actually commenting — at the end of a show — about the cultural and political state of our country. This was so unusual for him — not that he wasn’t known for having his political preferences; but he did not discuss such things as part of his on stage repertoire. Very different from just about every two-bit performing seal today!

Sinatra’s comments on that occasion urged his audience to seriously consider voting for Ronald Reagan in November of that year. Reading some of the newspaper accounts, you’d be forgiven if you got the impression he had called for the return of the ice age or a resurgence of the Black Death. As it turned out, most folk understood perfectly well what he meant and voted accordingly.

It was in that decade that I bought my first Sinatra albums and began to appreciate his craft — from a layman’s perspective. I learned that he’d swim under water every day, when a younger man, to strengthen and expand  his lung capacity. The experts may disagree with him as to the efficacy of that exercise; what impressed me was his absolute dedication to his vocation. How he made every song “his own” was also something that awed me.

My father still lived in the early 80s and in conversations he’d recall how influential Sinatra and his music were in the 40s and 50s, although the rumors of underworld connections bothered my father enough that he refused to buy any more of the crooner’s records and it was only towards the late 70s that he softened a bit, admitting that he was indeed a very good singer, and in some cases — From Here to Eternity, for example — a good actor as well.

It was in the early 80s that my beloved Aunt Sarah and Uncle Luis (“Wichy”) began tuning in to a Frank Sinatra radio station in Miami. They enjoyed reminiscing with the music, which was pretty clear and “listenable”. 

I personally do not like all his songs — some of which I find suggestive and unnecessary — but his oeuvre is most impressive and for the most part worth listening to every once in a while. By the late 90s my favorites came down to three albums:

Only the Lonely — According to the connoisseurs, Sinatra was best known as a wee-hours-of-the-morning, sad crooner. If so, this Capitol album from 1958 surely is the epitome. This is the sad and longing Sinatra singing for the waning generation of the late 50s.

September Of My Years — This Grammy award-winning (when the Grammy meant something) album of the year, asks and does not quite answer the question many middle-aged men ask themselves: who am I? This is the album that has one of the songs he is most identified with, “It Was A Very Good Year”. It also has one of my favorites: “The September Song”, which I first heard sung by Jimmy Durante in New York (on television).

Everything Happens To Me — Two years before his death in 1998, Sinatra worked with his daughter to compile his favorite songs released by his recording company, Reprise. Significantly, although he released songs and albums into the 90s, the selections in this album were all recorded between 1962 and 1981. This album is an echo to Only The Lonely with most of the songs in the same nostalgic category. “The Gal That Got Away” and “Summer Wind” give you an idea. This is not a “hits” album; it is simply what he preferred to sing.

In 1983 I took my fiancé to a Frank Sinatra benefit concert at the Fox Theater in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s not for nothing that he’s known as the best entertainer of the 20th Century. The next day, as we told my mother and dear friend, Mrs. Eleonora Berán, about it, she shared an anecdote involving her late husband.

In the early 60s (for the life of me, I cannot remember the exact year), Mr. Berán was flying from Caracas (Maiquetía) to Miami. At the ticket counter he was informed that the entire first class compartment was unavailable. Mr. Berán, who had a confirmed first class ticket refused to accept this and demanded to speak to management. He was then informed that Frank Sinatra was flying back to the USA and had purchased all seats in first class to fly alone. Mr. Berán was unmoved. The airline spoke with Mr. Sinatra who accepted Mr. Berán. The entire flight, Sinatra was in the first row, on the right window seat; Mr. Berán, in the last row on the left window seat. They were the only two passengers in that section. 

Mr. Berán said the service was very good! As in a very good year.

Frank Sinatra in Caracas in 1982

Lunch and good conversation with Mr. Berán in Venezuela in 1978