Old Brown Eyes

Come Dance With Me

Excitedly I ripped open the brown package that had just arrived in the mail as soon as I plopped down on my bed, my heart racing with anticipation. It immediately sank into disappointment. Frank Sinatra stared back at me from the CD cover of a popular and excellent album, Come Swing with Me. An album I loved and cherished...and already owned. This one was meant to be Come Dance with Me and I had been anticipating its arrival from an independent seller online for a week.

I sighed, my mouth twisting in disappointment at the duplicate album in my hands. What to do? I remembered how excited I had been several weeks ago to discover the website that was totally an absolutely dedicated to Sinatra, my favorite singer of all time, and evidently run in a very hands-on way by a total Sinatra expert. The guy ran a fantastic fan page and blog where you could say just about anything. It was a truly free forum. He had even shared a few bootleg concerts with us which I thought were out of this world.

All of this compounded to make me hesitant to call him up and let him know he had somehow made a grave mistake. I wasn't sure how such a super fan and expert could make such a mistake. But, as I turn the CD case over in my hand and glanced over at its twin on my shelf, I supposed anyone could make mistakes. I took a deep breath. I was not a naturally outgoing person, being rather shy and usually taking it on the chin rather than pointing out when someone had made a mistake. Even in restaurants I never told the waiter when they brought me the wrong food. I just ate whatever was put in front of me. That was pretty much me my entire life.

But I was so excited about this new album. I couldn't have found it in the stores. Only he would have had the 1959 release with the original cover of Sinatra wearing that jaunty houndstooth fedora and beckoning with a crooked finger to someone behind the camera while giving a cheeky wink. It wasn't just the album cover I was in love with though.

It was the impeccable arrangements by Billy May and the bonus track duets with Keely Smith on "Nothing in Common" and "How are Ya Fixed for Love?"

I had to have those songs!

Carefully laid aside the CD and reached for my cell phone. It was brand new, the first I had ever owned, a little tiny silver flip Motorola. I got his phone number off the packing slip and carefully dialed it, then press the phone to my ear and listened to the ringtones.

He picked up on the first ring. "Blue-eyes.com...Rich Abrams speaking."

I gulped. The voice was so soft, so husky, so brash and New Jersey. I found myself smiling already. I could hear him quietly snapping gum on the other end of the line and for some reason it made me want to laugh.

"Um," I said, feeling like a teenager calling a boy up for a date. But why? That was crazy! "Hey, Mr. Abrams..."

"Rich."

I paused. "What was that?"

"Call me Rich," he said warmly. "Nobody calls me Mr Abrams, unless your name is Nancy Sinatra."

I did giggle then. Ah, yes, I had heard about the cold war between those two. "Oh, uh, sure, Rich."

"So, what can I do for you?"

I had not expected such a warm and friendly voice and I have to admit that first time talking to him threw me for a loop. "Well, my name's Hadley and I ordered an album from you a week ago. Come Dance with Me?"

"Oh yeah, yeah!" he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "From Georgia. I don't get many orders from Georgia. Good album. How are you liking it so far?"

"Well, that's kind of the problem. You see, you didn't send me Come Dance with Me, you, uh, sent Come Swing With Me. And, I really love that album a lot, but unfortunately I already have it..."