Lady Blue Eyes_ My Life With Frank - Barbara Sinatra [63]
Frank would snap at anyone for the slightest misdemeanor, imagined or real. He’d yell at Hank Catanneo, his concert production manager and a dear friend, and he’d scream at his son Frank Jr., who worked as his conductor for years (boy, what he went through). Frank needed to get himself so angry, so up, that when he strutted out onstage like a boxer entering the ring, he was in total command of his audience and ready to kill. It worked every time.
Those around him soon came to understand that it was part of their job to take some heat. They knew what to expect and they prayed they wouldn’t be in the firing line, but if they were they accepted it with the graciousness of devoted employees who knew Frank didn’t mean anything by it and would make it up to them later. When Bobby was hired as his road manager after leaving UCLA, I was worried that he’d get yelled at too, but Frank never did turn on my son—a measure of his great fondness for him, I think, although Bobby would say that his kinship to me gave him “a pass.” In any event, Bobby wouldn’t have minded because he couldn’t believe his luck. He learned so much on tour, including how to run a show and negotiate contracts, experiences that set him on his eventual path as an entertainment lawyer. Not only that but Frank made sure to pay him a great deal of attention. He became a terrific father to Bobby. Frank always treated Bobby as if he was his own son, and I am deeply grateful.
Bobby also got to see firsthand what Sinatra-mania was all about because the fans went wild, especially in Europe. Everywhere we went, it seemed, women screamed and fainted and tried to get as close as they could. In Paris, they stormed the stage, and musicians dove for cover under their chairs as the player of the big bass waved it around to fend off hysterical women. In Amsterdam, where Frank performed at the opera house, the concert was so oversold that they had to set up extra chairs on the balcony and at the front of the stage. Even more fans stood or sat out in the streets and balconies near the theater playing Frank Sinatra music on their record players. The entire district was filled with the sound of Frank’s voice as we arrived. It was incredible.
Once the show was over, we hurried into our limo and set off with a police escort, but our vehicles were quickly swamped by fans who pressed forward until they were hammering on the roof and doors. Then they began chanting Frank’s name—“Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!”—and rocking the car. At one point, we were rocked so violently that our faces were almost level with the street. I was really frightened and thought, Oh, my God! This is going to be it! Somehow, Jilly managed to get us out of there by yelling at the police to push back the people so our car could move forward. It was a close call.
Before Bobby came on the road with us, he worked for the Dinah Shore television show and for our friend the producer George Schlatter on Laugh-In. George, who’d known Frank since the fifties, had been behind some of the most successful comedy and musical shows ever made. Frank either called him Crazy or pronounced his name Spanish-style as “Horhay.” Bobby loved working with him, especially as he nurtured the idea of being a director one day (like his father). He was even more thrilled to meet one of his heroes, the actor-director Orson Welles, who was a guest on The Dinah Shore Show. Orson was a fabulous character and a big drinker. Frank called him the Big Man, and they had some riotous times together.
One day, Frank called Bobby up and said, “Why don’t you walk into Horhay’s office tomorrow and ask him if he’d like to have me on Laugh-In?” That was a huge gift to Bobby, because George had been asking Frank for years and he’d always refused. So Bobby went to see George and found him sitting in a big chair behind his desk. When he asked, “How’d you like Frank to be on your show?” George was so astonished he leaned back in his chair and tipped right over onto the floor.
Frank’s one condition for appearing on Laugh-In