GLASTONBURYOFTHEMIND

When we left Susan she was off to see live jazz in LA, one of Buble’s band blowing hard. Bobby Darin singing Mack The Knife Michael Buble is a mensch, so tender. He loves the hugs, on being introduced to him it seems the most natural thing in the world to hug a man who has laid his heart so markedly on the line. He liked the reasurance because, incredibly we wwere the first interviewers who have heard the album. Michael was holding court in a Studio City side restaurant, the day before he had been playing at a $160,000 a table or a ticket Ali Charity Dinner with Sharon Stone and others on a table closest to him. When he started singing his rapturous Me And Mrs Mrs Jones interpretation, the celebs were laughing, no idea what Michael could do with Guilty Pleasure cheese. going into a sliding way up the sighing orgasmifying diaphragm scale, when he gets to “Me A an andMrs Jones Mrs jones” jump off Rigsby need not apply. The restaurant has the lovely, long, low level level lines you could imagine Frank and Co there passing an afternoon. Or a weekend. Or a week on whiskey and grass lockdown The night before Penny told of meeting Frank when she was doing PR for him or associates circa 1995. She got classic Frank, kicking out at a photographer, actually calling him a Ratfink, but it was all a mistaken identity. Funny all those late period Frank mini portraits - like in Flanagan’s U2 End of The World Thing - of a man angry and confused, embattled, even, a little emperor with a sad looking toupee. But still Frank the bearer of dreams, the revealer of hearts, Thanatos in a Tuxedo. The tune is Frank Sinatra Its A Lonely Old Town…