The Ring-A-Ding Kid steps away from the blare, the gears, the rock, the
jazz, the noise. Leaves behind the sassy sayings, the flashy fun-fun.
Escapes the stale smoke of yesterday's disappointment.
Steps out into timeless new night air that snaps at the face, felt. It
is a quiet world he steps into: intimate as two alone, soft as two together.
Where the only clock that ticks is Life's. Where the only sound is the
sound of thoughts that are honest, unborrowed. In that setting, refreshing
as young love, the stars come twice closer to eye, approach nearer to
hand. The romantic mise en scene, Mendelssohnian in its aluminum
newness, closes in around him.
In the night silence, he sings of love.
In a world whose people seldom look for love any farther than their own
palms, Frank Sinatra puts his whole heart on the line: he looks to the
The Moon: who is our Earth's constant lover, who comes alive only in
darkness, who comes back to us as inevitably as nightfall. To sing of
the Moon, and not of missiles, of romance and not of fudge, of love and
not lollipops, is old-fashioned. Something out of Grandma's day. Out of
date, like the stars. Non-chic, like Valentines. Corny, like your own
But if a man chooses to sing of the Moon, he cannot be pinch-penny with
words of praise. His songs will fall on greedy ears.
Standing small on Earth, away from the neon clatter, looking up, believing,
Frank Sinatra sings to Earth's constant lover.
Moonlight becomes him.
Moonlight Sinatra (1966)
Moonlight Becomes You
Reaching For The Moon
I Wished On The Moon
Oh, You Crazy Moon
The Moon Got In My Eyes
The Moon Was Yellow
Sinatra from Amazon.co.uk.