Sinatra and Me: In the Wee Small Hours

“Sinatra and Me: In the Wee Small Hours” by Tony Oppedisano 320 pages 

I’ve always been a Sinatra fan. When kids my age were listening to The Beatles and the Rolling Stones, I played Frank on my record player. I think my parents were secretly relieved they didn’t have to listen to “that racket.” 

The author and former Sinatra road manager has written a fascinating look at the private life the “The Voice” in his later years. Not always sure that I believed all of it, but I did feel like I was getting to know the man. 

When the book opens, Frank is just coming out of his self-inflicted retirement. It wasn’t hard for him to get back on top.  It bothered me that the first pages were mostly about the author himself. I saw very little of Ol’ Blue Eyes there. 

Then the tone shifted and he began to relate antidotes that happened that and me feel close to Frank. His legendary temper. His friends. His work routine. His love lives. His generosity. Recording sessions. The feud between his wife and his children. 

I found the stories about his wife, Barbara, interesting. In her memoir, “Lady Blue Eyes,” She came off as a gold-digger. And she comes off as one here also. I’m sure there was no love lost between Frank’s children and Barbara, but the way she treated him in his later years made me sad.  And the way she refused to let anyone call his kids while he lay dying until she could reach her son was horrifying to me.  Keep in mind her son was in New York and his kids were 10 minutes away. 

I consider myself very lucky to have seen Frank live in concert twice in my lifetime. They were remarkable experiences. When I finished, I felt myself mourning the loss of the legend all over again, but maybe a little deeper after I read this memoir/biography. I felt that I had actually known him. 

“Sinatra and Me: In the Wee Small Hours” 5 out of 5 stars in Julie’s world. 

 

"This Was Toscanini: The Maestro, My Father, and Me" by Samuel Antek and Lucy Antek Johnson   184 pages

I have to admit that before I read this book, I was cognizant that Arturo Toscanini (1867-1957) was one of the greatest conductors who ever lived. However, I thought he was one of the old masters, from the 1800s. I had no idea that he headed up the NBC Symphony Orchestra from its first performance on November 13, 1937 until it disbanded in 1954. The Orchestra performed weekly radio broadcasts and served as the house orchestra for NBC.

This book was originally written by the man who played first violin, Samuel Antek. When it was originally published in 1963, it was a book about a musician written for musicians. I borrowed that copy from the library and it was too technical for my reading tastes.  It quickly fell out of print.

Now in 2021 Antek’s daughter has revived her father’s original work, but added her own memories and observations. This is more of a biography/biography/memoir book if I had to give it a genre.

Ms, Antek Johnson retained all the original photographs by Robert Hupka. They are striking and sometimes penetrating; sometimes I swear I could see Toscanini’s soul in those photographs as he strived to make beautiful music.

Ms. Antek Johnson’s take on the book was to reprint the photographs and her father’s words, but she wrote an introduction to each chapter. Written in a rather chatty style, I felt as if I was listening to an old friend reminisce about a grandfather and father.

 I really enjoyed this work and feel as if I’m a more rounded person because of it---or that could be that Toscanini was the answer to a recent “Jeopardy!” question that I would never have known the answer to otherwise.  I really struggled with Antek’s original last chapter, “Toscanini Conducts Oberon.” It was too technical for me. I ended up just reading the word without understanding their meanings. Never mind my failings, "This Was Toscanini: The Maestro, My Father, and Me" receives 5 out of 5 stars in Julie’s world.