The Near-Miss Frank Sinatra Birthday Girl

Dar and Ol’ Blue Eyes – Almost

Writing in response to Hear Frank Sinatra Explain How To Do It His Way Dar introduces herself and her story with “… Chicago? I grew up there. Lived alone at fifteen in The Lincoln Park Hotel on Clarke/LaSalle. Fancied myself then. Sylvia Plath, Annie Sexton, all those daddy do’s and daddy don’ts.

So, the Sinatra story. About 25 years ago I’m on another of my road trips to escape husband number three. Caesar’s Palace, lost, on the moving sidewalk, three “guys in suits” hustle me to an elevator, nobody says a word, I don’t even ask what’s going on. Elevator opens up, big foyer, I hear, “Who is she? I don’t know. Didn’t somebody send for this one? Take her back. She’s not one of them.” Back on the elevator, one guy this time. I still haven’t spoken. Puts me out of elevator. Says, “Goodbye.” Later, I find out why.

Sinatra’s birthday party. Thought I was “one of the girls.”

Regrets. I’ve had a few.

Note: Originally posted Oct 22, 2008 at, a predecessor of

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