His Way_ The Unauthorized Biography of Frank Sinatra - Kitty Kelley [154]
“You should make in a year what Frank is losing on this show,” said Sammy Cahn of the “Welcome Elvis” telecast. “But he wants to prove he can go big on TV.”
After years of trying, Frank finally proved it. Thanks to Elvis, Trendex gave his ABC special a whopping 41.5 rating, the highest of any show in five years.
Presley, who wore black leather jackets and white socks that went unchanged for days, was not a man Frank could ever feel comfortable with. He was not “cool” in the sense of the members of Sinatra’s Rat Pack, who wore snap-brim hats and sharkskin suits from Sy Devore’s Hollywood men’s store. The group Sinatra formed after Bogie’s death consisted of Dean Martin, Peter Lawford, Sammy Davis, Jr., Joey Bishop, and Shirley MacLaine as mascot. It was as dedicated to drinking as Bogie’s—Bogie’s principle was that the whole world was three drinks behind and it was time to catch up. But in Frank’s Rat Pack, personal homage to their “leader” was all important: Frank was addressed as “the pope,” “the general,” and “el dago.”
The new Rat Pack developed its own vocabulary, in which all women, except Mother, were “broads.” God was “the big G” and death “the big casino,” as in, “Did you hear that so-and-so just bought the big casino,” meaning that so-and-so had just died. “Dullsville, Ohio” was anywhere but Vegas and “a little hey-hey” was a good time. “Bird” was the male organ, and the term was constantly used as a jovial greeting, as in, “How’s your bird?” At a party, when Frank was bored, he’d say, “I think it’s going to rain,” which meant that he wanted to go someplace else, and everyone had to leave. “Clyde” was an all-purpose word that could mean anything, but when applied to Elvis Presley and his guitar, it meant “loser, a shmendrick.”
They called themselves the Clan for a while, until that became politically embarrassing, and they hastened to. make it known that they had nothing to do with the Ku Klux Klan.
The Rat Pack satisfied Frank’s lifelong absorption with male company and met his craving for attention. The group’s slavish devotion to “the leader” seemed humorous until the day Sammy Davis, Jr., gave an interview to Jack Eigen in Chicago, acknowledging Frank’s need to belittle others.
“I love Frank and he was the kindest man in the world to me when I lost my eye in an auto accident and wanted to kill myself. But there are many things he does that there are no excuses for,” said Sammy. “Talent is not an excuse for bad manners. … I don’t care if you are the most talented person in the world. It does not give you the right to step on people and treat them rotten. This is what he does occasionally.”
“That was it for Sammy,” said Peter Lawford. “Frank called him ‘a dirty nigger bastard’ and wrote him out of Never So Few, the movie we were starting at the time. He had originally had the part created so that Sam could be in the movie, but now he had it rewritten again for Steve McQueen. For the next two months Sammy was on his knees begging for Frank’s forgiveness, but Frank wouldn’t speak to him. Even when they were in Florida together and Frank was appearing at the Fontainebleau and Sammy was next door at the Eden Roc, Frank still refused to speak to him. He wouldn’t even go over to see his show, which was something we always did when one or the other of us was appearing someplace. He left word with the doorman that Sammy was not to come in. If he did, Frank said he’d walk out.”
Sammy had not only criticized Frank, but he had done so in Chicago, where it was broadcast over the radio and later picked up by all the media, and where Frank’s Mafia friends would hear it. Chicago was home to his close friend, Joe Fischetti, whom he’d made his talent agent at the Fontainebleau; to Sam Giancana, the chief of the Chicago Mafia, who wore Frank’s sapphire friendship ring; to Tony “Joe Batters” Accardo, the former Chicago syndicate boss for whom Frank had given a personal home recital the year before.
“That was the unforgivable