I guess the 19th and 20th discs of the Reprise Recording (chronologically arranged) are probably the last that Frank Sinatra ever recorded. God, all those interpolations and extrapolations on his life, all those introspectives and retrospectives on his philosophy are the mark of the man Sinatra, as he approached old age, voice cracking and way past his prime, and utterly conscious of his own mortality, of time running out, and of booking on his last flight, delayed but inevitable. Few great men ever lived long enough, or matured enough to do this. Bing Crosby and Irving Berlin, old in years, were still young in heart when the old ticker gave out. Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenheimer, fathers of the atom bomb, matured enough to realize the enormity of what they unleashed into the world, and they became part of the conscience of humanity. Sinatra did mature enough to be such a man.

But it sure makes it tough on the transcriber of his songs.

Contributed by Larry Henares of the Philippines

<larryh@mydestiny.net>

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