Old Blue Eyes

Summers where I work can be pretty quiet.  That doesn't mean I have nothing to do, trust me, I have tons.  But we operate with a skeleton crew, so the daily traffic coming and going is much less than during the school year. 

Today I was the only part of the skeleton that remained.  I held down the fort. 

Please don't comment on what part of the skeleton that would make me.

I missed having somebody to talk to, so I turned the radio on.  That didn't last long; the commercials drove me bonkers.   Desperate for some noise, I started scouting around for CDs.  I found a Mozart compilation that came dangerously close to coaxing my eyes shut.  I ejected that one in a hurry.

One of my coworkers enjoys folk music; I found one of her CDs.  I discovered quickly that I can only take a limited amount of uber twang.

I hope she's not reading this.

I finally found a generic CD that had Old Blue Eyes written across it in permanent black marker.  I realize I'm only 50, but I do know who that is.

I spent the afternoon tapping my toe and dancing in my ergonomic chair.  I was actually surprised at how many of the songs I knew, mostly because I've heard them on movies.  I had no idea that Frank Sinatra is the one who made them famous.

I don't know a whole lot about Frank.  I know my mother swooned over him back in the day.  He was a member of The Rat Pack, though I'm not sure why that is so significant.  It's also suspected that he had mob ties.

Oh, and he had blue eyes.

I imagine back in his hay day Frank never would have dreamed his music would one day be treated so irreverantly.  I mean, a CD that had been copied?  Black marker?  It's kind of sad.

I suppose it doesn't matter, I still enjoyed it.  But...I wonder what he would say.  I googled him and found out he died in 1998, so I can't ask.

That's okay.  I'll just wait a few years and ask Justin Bieber.