I did it my way—with Frank Sinatra!
Last Christmas I had a Pinoy tree adorned with Filipino Santas, capiz stars (parol), woven leaves of organic material like sinamay, buri, pandan, abaca bags (bayong) and cut-out cards of Filipino heroes and legends, Komiks characters, and folk riddles. Favorite fiesta food like our home-made, street-peddled sorbetes (gelato), halo-halo and native cakes and pastries (kakanins) included.
In years past, it was truly enjoyable to follow a decor theme like sunflowers and ducks, Royal Copenhagen Christmas plates, Spanish fans and lace, Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince, Russian matryoshka dolls, and framed velvet photos of family and friends.
This year, when I heard Frank Sinatra crooning “I’m doing my Christmas dreaming a little early this year,” a light bulb went off in my head. Why not a Frank Sinatra tree? After all, his music, concerts and movies have continued to delight and entertain several generations. There just isn’t any way for the interest to fade or taper off.
Searching the internet for Sinatra bits and bobs, it confirmed my belief that there’s still a whole lot of marketplace that caters to old but giggly fans’ every whim. In fact, a new group called “Respectfully Sinatra” has stirred up more hype to jump on the bandwagon of Sinatra fan-atics. We’re hooked on keeping Sinatra in our lives. Why?
Pat Rizzo, who played the saxophone in Sinatra’s orchestra, said: “Onstage, he (Sinatra) gave everything. He used his technical prowess to fuse the bel canto style of Italian opera with the conversational way of cabaret singers. He used his mastery of sense memories to relive the emotional moments of his life to make each individual audience member feel he was telling stories directly to them. He did that every single night. I couldn’t do that.”
An online gift shop sells a felt tree ornament of Sinatra, labeling it “historical” because it shows him wearing his fedora hat, impeccably groomed in a dark suit, flashing his signature gold band on his left pinky and a signet ring on the right. Holding a mic, he was ready to give his audience a smashing kick in the head, belting all their favorite ballads, jazz, torch, saloon and bossa nova hit tunes.
A little musing: the felt doll is hand-made by women of Kyrgyzstan, empowering them economically and socially. I thought I’d stashed a good memory of all Sinatra songs and recordings, but whoa! My jaw dropped when I heard this song: Monday Morning Quarterback. What does it mean? It is defined as an expression for a person who passes judgment on and criticizes something after the event.
Not having been raised appreciating American football, I searched further for the meaning and I found this: “The term ‘Monday Morning Quarterback’ is an old adage referring to an ‘expert’ analyzing a game (football) after the game is over—and emphasizing things that he would have done differently (particularly if his team lost). The term is now loosely applied to ‘after the fact second guessing’ of any poor decision.
“In Sinatra’s song, he’s using this sports idiom to reflect on the reason(s) why he has lost the love of a woman. His bad behavior, which he could have modified many times—but didn’t—has cost him the relationship.”
Isn’t that just so Sinatra to wear his heart on his sleeve? Or choke up a little in his throat? Many could relate—weeping for the one who got away or was left in the lurch or lamenting his tough luck in the game of love.
My search for more ornaments yielded miniature CD albums that have been digitally programmed so that if you take a shot of the printed QR code with your phone cam, the mini album’s particular selection of songs can be played through your Bluetooth speaker or on your mobile. Neat, huh?
Another is a miniature music jukebox showing a figurine of Sinatra with arms outstretched and the Manhattan skyline in the background. Press a yellow button behind the figurine and it plays Sinatra’s national anthem—New York, New York.
More curios popped up: a Sinatra coffee mug, Christmas cards of his long-playing albums including a vinyl recording of the Rat Pack. This was his fun gang of consummate stage performers—including Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop—who kept the audience in stitches with their bantering, ad libs, dancing and singing, bringing the house down, making for a perfect, well-spent evening.
My tree is shouting orange—“the happiest of colors,” per Sinatra: Orange poinsettias, orange baubles and balls and even orange necktie bows. If you add autumn leaves in yellow and rust, that could also match the sunny color theme.
Looking satisfyingly at the tree, there was one item that I almost forgot—placemats for the dining table. I tried to make some by photocopying the lyrics of his hit tunes but they didn’t come out sharp and clear. One last attempt to check online and—Eureka!—I found a shop that reproduced his recording albums with the lyrics of his best-selling songs on the flip side. The shop promised to send it directly to Manila in two days. No kidding?
After 48 hours, the doorbell rang. “You have a package from Israel.” Uh-oh! The quest for Ol’ Blue Eyes crossed oceans and time zones to arrive in Good Ol’ Manila. I could hear Sinatra swinging, “We’ve got those j-i-n-g-l-e bells!”
