This unavoidable awareness is what fuels my resonance with Frank Sinatra’s songs. They are, without being maudlin, so much in touch with reality.
“Ah, yes. Fifty. September. Father Time with a frost warning.
My leaves are turning. How green they were.
And how bright they are. And, Oh, how wonderful my love affair
— spoken intro to September of my Years
“But now the days are short
I'm in the autumn of the year”
— from It Was a Very Good Year
“And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain…”
“I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and ev'ry highway”
— from My Way
Ode To An Old Man
Even with awareness of inexorable age
And without casting doubts upon your ability,
A woman one half your age you’re pursuing?
Seems surely a sign you’ve reached the last page
Of a wishful thinking senility.
Are you sure you know what you’re doing?
In answer to the wag who wrote, Ode to an Old Man, Frank did it his way. I’m doing it my way. I may not know what I’m doing but the possibility thinking is exhilarating! Oh, how wonderful my love affair with life.
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