His Way_ The Unauthorized Biography of Frank Sinatra - Kitty Kelley [218]
“Since he didn’t have the guts to fire me, I went ahead and finished the picture in California. I had already been paid $35,000, but was still owed a balance of $15,000, so when the film was completed, I sent a telegram of resignation to Sinatra with a copy to Rudin and asked for the remainder of my producer’s fee. I waited a few months, but never heard a word. Nor did I ever receive my final payment. By that time, though, I was producing over at Paramount and it was worth $15,000 to me just to be rid of Frank Sinatra and never have to have anything more to do with him. That meant not having to sit up with him every night until he could go to sleep; not having to be around continual brawls and cherry bombs and drinking until the last bottle was empty and the last song sung. Frank’s a sick guy in many ways, and that sickness becomes a heavy burden for those close to him after a while.”
Some people in Hollywood were shocked that the friendship between the two men did not survive making the movie together, and Sinatra’s publicist was called upon to explain.
“When the picture was finished, Frank asked to see a rough cut,” said Jim Mahoney. “Dexter told him this was impossible; the film was not yet suitable for viewing. He was the producer, of course, but he seemed to have forgotten it was Frank who gave him the job. Anyway, that was the end of it.”
Years later, when asked about his near drowning and the man who had rescued him, Sinatra said, “Brad didn’t really save my life. It was an old guy on a surfboard.” After that he often referred to Dexter as “Brad who?”
In November 1966, Frank began his first engagement in Las Vegas since marrying Mia. She attended his opening night at the Sands, where the standing-room-only crowd stretched to catch a glimpse of her as she walked to her ringside seat on the arm of her husband’s close friend, Joe E. Lewis. She gazed at Frank adoringly as he sang his songs and the crowd exploded with applause. Midway through his performance, he paused to introduce the celebrities in the audience and then used the racial tensions growing in east Los Angeles for a repartee which made people extremely uncomfortable.
“Smokey the Bear was supposed to be here tonight … you all know Smokey. That’s Sammy Davis. But he couldn’t make it. He has an opening of his own … down in Watts. It’s a gas station. He calls it Whitey’s. He sells three kinds of gas … regular, ethyl, and burn, baby, burn. But Sammy’s okay. He had a wedding anniversary recently, and I sent him a gift—yeah, I sent him and Mai a love seat covered in zebra skin, so when they sit together they won’t be so conspicuous.… Well, let’s see. What else is new? Oh, yeah. I got married.… She’s here,” he said, pointing to Mia, who stood up to receive thunderous applause from the audience. “Yeah, I sure got married.… Well, you see I had to. … I finally found a broad Ï can cheat on…
A gasp rose from the crowd and heads swiveled to spot Mia’s reaction, but she had lowered her head in shame. Sensing the audience’s disapproval, Frank tried to continue as if nothing had happened.
“Ain’t she pretty?” he said, pointing to his young wife, but by then he had lost the rapport with his audience. “I guess I’d better sing. I’m in a lot of trouble.”
That evening, Frank and Mia and the Sinatra entourage stopped at the Aladdin to watch Joe E. Lewis’s midnight show. Frank jumped up onstage to help the comedian with his material.
“I really came in to see Jackie Mason,” he said. “Nah, I’m just kidding. … If that bum came out here on the stage now, I’d bite him on the neck. He’s a creep. …”
Mason’s lacerating jokes about Frank’s marriage to Mia inflamed Sinatra, who did not find references to his hair transplants and elevator shoes funny. Nor was