Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Six

Watching Sammy Davis Jr. was an experience. That was the only way to describe it-and that wasn’t me talking, that was Frank. He actually leaned over to me during the show and said those words to me.

Sammy sang, danced, played instruments, did impressions. Frank described himself as a “saloon singer.” Sammy, he said, was an “entertainer.”

At the halfway point Sammy took the time to talk to the audience, introduce the band, and then he pointed into the crowd.

“There’s a very good friend of mine in the audience tonight. He is my friend, an amazing talent in his own right, the chairman of the board, the leader, Mr. Frank Sinatra, ladies and gentlemen.”

Frank stood to thunderous applause, waved at Sammy and then sat back down.

“Do you like your seat, Frank?” Sammy asked. “Can you see okay?”

“I can see fine,” Frank called out.

Sammy wiped his brow with his hand, as if Frank’s reply gave him great relief.

“Gotta make sure Frank is comfortable, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, milking the joke. “You never know who might come around later with Frank’s complaint.”

The audience laughed and Frank waved again and called out, “You’re safe, Sam.”

“Then let’s get on with the show,” Sammy said. “Here’s a tune my friend Dino let me borrow….”

“Hey, Eddie, man,” Sammy said, shaking my hand as Frank and I entered his dressing room. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you from the stage-”

“That’s okay, Sam,” I said. “What would you have told people about me?”

“Smokey,” Frank said, giving Sammy a big hug, “you brought the house down, as usual. I’m tired just from watchin’ you.”

“Thanks for coming, Frank,” Sammy said, returning the embrace.

“How’s May?” Frank asked.

“She’s good, Frank, good.”

“You got enough energy left to go out and get somethin’ to eat with us?” Frank asked.

“If we do it here in the hotel I do,” Sammy said. “I’m not up for a big night out, Frank.”

“Neither am I,” I said.

“Yeah, okay,” Frank said. “I’ll take it easy on you two Clydes. How’s the food here, Sam?”

“It’s good, Frank.”

“Good?”

Sammy smiled.

“It’s okay. They’ll feed us well. Hell, I remember the days when my dad, my uncle and me had to take our food out back and eat it at a picnic table behind the building.”

“They treatin’ you okay?” Frank asked.

“They’re treating me fine, Frank,” Sammy assured him, “just fine. Why don’t you two get out of here and let me get dressed, and then we’ll go and eat.”

“Okay, Charley,” Frank said, slapping Sammy on the shoulder. “Great show, as usual. Naw, even better than usual.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Sammy said. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“Let’s go, Eddie,” Frank said. “We’ll wait outside while Sam makes himself pretty.”

I wanted to say, “That’ll be a long wait,” or something as funny, but I really didn’t know how Sammy would take it. I wasn’t that “in” yet, was I?