Sunday, January 08, 2006

A Litte Story About Frank and Al

Belated happy new year to you all. Laurie and I had a good time out west despite the rain. We rang in 2006 in style aboard the Queen Mary. My mom's cousin, who currently is the world's foremost collector of rare Marilyn Monroe images and artifacts, was having a show onboard and managed to wrangle us some tickets for the New Year's Eve party. That's the Marilyn impersonator that was hired for the show posing with Laurie and I. She was good. She stayed in character the entire time we talked with her. Kinda strange, but cool none the less.

The real reason we trekked to California, however, was to introduce Laurie to my Grandpa Al and Grandma Joyce. Grandpa's not in terrific health and will be unable to travel out here for the wedding, so we took the opportunity of Laurie's Christmas break to visit. While we were there, I asked Grandpa to tell Laurie one of his Sinatra stories. That's right, my grandad knew the Chairman. Back in the early to mid '60's Al had an upholstery business that catered to private aircraft owners. And since he lived in southern California, many of his customers happened to be celebrities. I guess he worked on Walt Disney's plane once as well, but I can't recall if he met the man or not.

Frank was his favorite though. Grandpa told us a story of when he and his brother Bud had traveled to Vegas to work on Frank's Lear. One day, right about lunch, Grandpa said this chauffer-driven black Lincoln rolled up to the plane and out hopped Frank. He asked how everything was going and wanted to know what Al and Bud were doing after work. Grandpa told him they were just going to head back to the motel, shower, eat some fudge and hit the road back to L.A. Apparently Grandpa was good friends with the motel proprietor and his wife had just made some fudge that he wanted to share with Al and Bud before they left.

As Grandpa tells it, Frank got this kind of quizzical look on his face and asked if the fudge had been made with German chocolate. Grandpa said yes. Frank told them not to leave without him, he'd be back at 5. He hopped back in the Lincoln and off he went. Grandpa said, "Bud and I continued working, assuming there was no way Frank would really come back just for fudge. But sure enough, right at quitting time, in rolled the Lincoln and there was Frank." Grandpa said Frank dismissed his driver and hopped in the '51 Ford pickup that served as my grandfather's work truck.

Since there were three of them in the cab and only two seats, Grandpa said Frank sat on a tool box in between he and Bud as they rode to the motel. When they got to the motel they walked into the office which was also attached to owner's living quarters. After the owner recovered from the shock, he invited them all back to his living room, which incidentally, could be seen from the front desk. As they were sitting there eating fudge a guy walked in looking for a room. When he looked up and saw Frank sitting on the couch munching on fudge and chatting with the owner's wife, Grandpa said he yelled, "Honey get the camera! You're not gonna' believe this."Apparently Frank was extremely gracious and even invited the starstruck guest's little girl behind the counter to have some fudge with them.

When it was time to go, Frank asked Grandpa if he could drive the pickup back. So, Grandpa rode the tool box and Frank drove them all back to the Sands where he was staying. As they pulled into the Sands, Grandpa said you could tell the valets were less than impressed by the looks of the truck. "But when they saw who was behind the wheel," he said, "their eyes got big as saucers. It totally messed with their heads to see Sinatra pulling up in a beat up pickup." As Frank got out Grandpa said he tossed a tip to the valet and said, "Take care. I don't want a scratch on it."

I guess this is but one of several Frank encounters my grandfather had over the course of their business relationship. If I ever get him to recount any more, you can bet I'll post them.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That Marilyn's hottness is ineffable.

Uncle Larry said...

That doesn't usually stop you from commenting on hottness.