I still remember where I was when I learned that Frank Sinatra died. That particular “Kennedy moment” actually happened close to Boston. We took off in a small turboprop on a flight to Nantucket when I saw the title in the newspapers the guy was reading in the row in front of us. I felt I’ve lost a lot. Not to mention Sid Vicious who was too weak to stay in the Rat Pack.
Now I am listening to Songs for Swinging Lovers on my son’s request and am marveling on the level of excellence this guy was able to produce. Free as a dove, ol’ devil moon. He knew his stuff. Alexander the Great of the last century.