Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Lady Blue Eyes My Life with Frank by Barbara Sinatra 's Widow on Man Behind the Legend: 'Big Tipper. Romantic Husband'. Frank Sinatra's last wife, Barbara, discusses the couple's 22-year marriage. Frank Sinatra's Home Life Revealed in New Book. May 31, 2011— -- Frank Sinatra's last wife, Barbara Sinatra, reveals details of the couple's 22-year marriage in her memoir, "Lady Blue Eyes." In the book, Barbara Marx Sinatra describes a homey side of the music legend -- a man who was extremely neat, a great cook, a voracious reader and a crossword puzzle ace. On their evenings out, she witnessed his state of the art tipping. "He'd walk into a restaurant with a stack of one hundred dollar bills," she recalls. "And say, 'Make sure to take care of all the busboys, not the waiters, the busboys. and everyone in the kitchen.'" Read an excerpt from "Lady Blue Eyes" below, then check out some other books in the "GMA" library. Prologue: A Very Good Year. The year I married Frank Sinatra was a very good year. It was 1976, but it had taken us five years of flirting and courting to finally say "I do." It probably took another year before I grew accustomed to the idea that I now carried his iconic name. At first, I'd almost whisper when booking a restaurant reservation or beauty parlor appointment. Even to say "Mrs. Sinatra" out loud felt like bragging. For a long time I had to pinch myself almost daily to believe that I, Barbara Ann Blakeley, the gangly kid in pigtails from the whistle-stop of Bosworth, Missouri, had somehow become the wife of Francis Albert Sinatra. Could I really be married to the singer whose voice I'd first heard at a drive-in when I was fifteen years old? "I'll walk alone because to tell you the truth I'll be lonely. I don't mind being lonely when my heart tells me you are lonely too," he sang with such sincerity at the height of the Second World War. Even though he didn't make me swoon like some of the "bobby-soxers" at his concerts, the tenderness in his voice still melted my tomboyheart. Our love affair began almost thirty years later, long before we took the wedding-day vows that were to last for more than two decades. By then I was married to Zeppo Marx, the youngest of the famous comedy brothers. Our next-door neighbor Frank Sinatra had recently divorced for the third time and was datingsome of the world's most desirable women. I'd met his second wife,Ava Gardner, and Mia Farrow, his third. I'd seen Marilyn Monroewhen she stayed with him not long before she died, and wouldmeet Lauren Bacall, Kim Novak, Juliet Prowse, and Judy Garland,all of whom he'd stepped out with. Not that I was a complete naïf. As a young model and thewife of a gambler named Bob Oliver, I'd been wooed by John F.Kennedy. As a showgirl, I'd resisted Frank's advances,and I'd lived with a television host named Joe Graydon. I'd beenchased by some of the world's most drop-dead, knockout moviestars, none of whom had anything on Frank. He had a sexual energyall his own. Even , whom I'd met in Vegas, neverhad it quite like that. A big part of Frank's thrill was the sense of danger he exuded,an underlying, ever-present tension only those closest to him knewcould be defused with humor. One of the greatest things aboutFrank was that he loved to laugh. He not only surrounded himselfwith comedians like Don Rickles, Tom Dreesen, Joey Bishop, andDean Martin (the most natural comic of them all) but took greatdelight in devising elaborate practical jokes. Even his fi eriest Italiantantrum could be extinguished with a witty one-liner. On one of my earliest visits to Villa Maggio, his sprawlingmountain home at Pinyon Crest high above Palm Springs,California, which he'd bought against the fi erce summer months,I joined in a late-night game of charades. I was on the opposingteam to his, which included his drinking buddies the comedianPat Henry, the golf pro Kenny Venturi, the songwriter Jimmy VanHeusen, and Leo Duro cher, the baseball manager. Having placed a large brass clock on my lap, I called time before Frank's teamguessed his charade—the government health warning on a pack ofcigarettes. "Three minutes are up," I cried gleefully. "You didn't get it!" They began to howl their protests, but the look on Frank'sface as he rose to his feet silenced them all. "Who made you timekeeperanyway?" he barked, his eyes like blue laser beams. "Why, you did!" I replied. Frank snatched the clock from my lap and gripped it tightly inhis hands. For a moment I thought he might hit me with it. Refusingto be intimidated, I stared him out until he turned and hurledthe clock against the door, shattering it into a hundred pieces. Springs, coils, and shards of glass fl ew across the room. The clockface lay upturned on the fl oor, its hands forever fi xed at a few minutesafter 4:00 a.m. It was Pat Henry who broke the ensuing hush. The comicwho opened Frank's shows said, "I know what that charade is,Francis." "What?" Frank spun round and scowled. "It was 'As Time Goes By.' " When Frank's face cracked into a broad grin, so did the restof ours, none more gratefully than mine. The moment of dangerhad passed. What I saw that night was a glimpse of the complex innercharacter of the man known as the Entertainer of the Century. This was someone who had a God-given talent, The Voice. He'dclawed his way up from a tough childhood in Hoboken, New Jersey,with an even tougher mother, Dolly, who'd alternately smackedhim and pressed him to her bosom. He'd fought on the streets. He'd experienced the highs, lows, andthen highs again of a performer's life. He'd had his heart broken. By the time heturned his attentions to me, he was a fi fty-fi ve-year-old living legend who'd grownaccustomed to getting his own way. He had money, power,and friends, all of which helped occupy his restless mind. The one thing he didn't have, though, was love. Having been nothing but courteous for months, Frank fi rstcame looking for it my way at a gin rummy party he hosted at hishouse across the fairway from ours in Palm Springs, California.My husband, Zeppo, sat a few feet away, oblivious to the dramathat was about to unfold. Our twelve-year marriage had long beendead. Twenty-six years older than me, Zeppo had been successfulin vaudeville and manufacturing, but once he retired he preferreda routine of golf or sailing followed by early nights. Unable to relinquishthe swinging lifestyle of his fraternal youth, he also datedother women. The Marx name and fi nancial security he'd offeredme and my son, Bobby, were all that was left of our once promisingromance. I was bored and lonely by the time Mr. Sinatra aimedthose eyes in my direction. The spark he ignited inside jerked mefrom my slumbers. Frank had been watching me all night as if he was seeing mefor the fi rst time. Sitting close, he called me "Barbara, baby" inthat killer voice and fl ashed me a lopsided smile. He asked if anyonewanted "more gasoline" and offered to fi x me a fresh martini.Taking my arm, he led me to the den. It was my turn to watch ashe swirled vodka around a glass, reached for an olive and then someice. A cigarette balanced on his bottom lip, a curl of blue smoke rising.He handed me my drink with a Salute! and then added softly,"Come sit with me awhile." Thrown off guard by his sudden change of tack, I found myselfdirectly in the path of that extraordinary force of nature. Therewas nowhere to run. Once he turned on the charm, my defensesrolled away like tumbleweed. Inhaling his heady scent of lavenderwater, Camel cigarettes, and Jack Daniel's, I could do nothing butsavor the moment of intoxication, oblivious to the consequences. As we settled onto a couch, our eyes met, and then he pulledme into his arms and kissed me. I knew with that first kiss that Iwas about to become another Sinatra conquest, and the thoughtsnatched away what little breath he'd left me. Nothing more wouldhappen that night. Not for weeks, months even. That was the wayFrank liked to play his game. He'd set me spinning in his orbit,and it was only a matter of time before gravity would draw me inexorablytoward him. Whatever was to follow from the discreet seductionhe'd begun—and I didn't dream then that it would amountto anything more than a fl ing—I awaited his next move with eageranticipation. Such was the power of the Sinatra magnetism that I didn't really have a choice. Book review: “Lady Blue Eyes: My Life With Frank,” by Barbara Sinatra. The publicity materials for the long-awaited Barbara Sinatra autobiography breathlessly promise that Frank’s companion for the last quartercentury of his life will “give an unprecedented glimpse into the man behind the myth.” The reader will be able to ogle “never-before-seen photos” in this “incredible untold story” in which “Frank Sinatra comes alive.” Readers whose hands aren’t shaking so much in anticipation that they are unable to turn the pages will discover a somewhat different reality. Yes, “Lady Blue Eyes: My Life With Frank” does dish about Dean and Bono, Liza and Liz, Rainier and Grace. And it does deliver an intimate look at a complex man. But that’s not its focus. At its heart, this autobiography is a simple story of an enduring love affair, and the unprecedented glimpse is less about the man who has already been dissected in dozens of books, and more about a woman whom the reader quickly discovers is quite interesting in her own right. When she visits Frank’s grave, surrounded by photographers and fans, Barbara writes: “I sometimes wonder what they think of me, this woman in her 80s keeping vigil for her dead husband. Few know where I came from or how I got there. They know nothing of my life before Frank, or how rich it became once I met him. If they only knew the places I’ve been, the things I’ve seen, the people I’ve met on my journey. That was some candy jar!” Readers who think of Barbara Sinatra as simply a celebrity wife with a Nancy Reagan hairstyle will be surprised to know that she was a successful, self- made woman before she married Frank. The daughter of a small-town Missouri butcher, she spent her childhood yearning for a life of excitement. As she grew into a tall, stunning blond, she saw modeling and early marriage as her passport out of dullsville. But she soon found herself a young mother abandoned by a flighty husband. Never one for whining, Barbara launched a line of cosmetics, helped found the Miss Universe pageant and started a modeling school in . But she wasn’t such a feminist that she wasn’t willing to give up everything for a man. When she met TV host Joe Graydon, she gave her modeling schools to an employee, moved with Graydon to Las Vegas and landed a job as a showgirl. And when that didn’t work out, she moved to Palm Springs, Calif., and married Zeppo Marx, the famous brother who had pursued her for years. Frank Sinatra’s Palm Springs compound was near the Marx house, and Barbara joined the Sinatra social circle. But with Frank married to Mia Farrow, and then dating a series of Hollywood stars, the relationship was platonic until one night in 1972, when, as Barbara puts it: “I found myself directly in the path of that extraordinary force of nature.” “Frank had been watching me all night as if he was seeing me for the first time,” Barbara writes. “Whatever was to follow from the discreet seduction he’d begun — and I didn’t dream then that it would amount to anything more than a fling — I awaited his next move with greatest anticipation. Such was the power of the Sinatra magnetism that I didn’t really have a choice.” Soon, Barbara began an affair with Frank, divorcing Zeppo along the way. After 13 years of marriage to a man worth millions, she received $180,000 and a 4-year-old Jaguar in the divorce settlement. Yet even after she was free, it took three years and an ultimatum before Frank finally agreed to marry her. “He was the most famous man in the world, after all. Despite my secret hopes for something more permanent eventually, I knew that just to be at his side made me the luckiest girl alive,” Barbara writes. Barbara toured the world with Frank. Addicted to excitement, he liked to keep busy and surround himself with people, partying all night and sleeping until early afternoon. Prince Rainier and Princess Grace, Gregory Peck, , Liza Minnelli and the were constant companions. Elizabeth Taylor scored her famous 69-carat diamond as a makeup gift from Richard Burton after he unfavorably compared her legs to Barbara’s. Barbara soon learned what made Frank tick. Incredibly generous, he always picked up the tab, and his tipping was legendary. But he was also easily bored, with a fiery personality and a compulsion to push people’s buttons. He had a quick, passionate temper that, when fueled by an ever- present glass of Jack Daniels, would erupt unexpectedly. Because Frank never made amends, Barbara became the peacemaker. Barbara accepts Frank’s faults without making excuses. Those looking for dirt on Frank Sinatra are not going to find it in this book. The same with titillation. There’s one winking reference to how Frank’s passion in life pays off in other ways, but otherwise, Barbara keeps the bedroom doors padlocked. Instead, she focuses on the love affair. “Frank was, without doubt, the most romantic man I had ever met,” Barbara writes. “Not only did he make a point of telling me how much he cared for me every day, but he’d leave little notes and cards around the place for me to find.” One of those notes read: “Sweetheart: Millions of men in the world love their wives I’m sure, but I’m surer that my love for you is so much more overwhelming. It overwhelms me each day, constantly. Just to see you every morning makes my every day. I pray we live for at least a hundred years. Charlie Neat.” Frank Sinatra lived 82 years, dying in Barbara’s arms more than a decade ago. After reading this book, it’s easy to conclude that he was the lucky one for finding such a strong, wise and fun-loving soul mate. Lady Blue Eyes : My Life with Frank Sinatra. Thirty years after she first heard his voice singing to her from a jukebox at her local drive-in, Barbara began her love affair with Frank Sinatra. After a tempestuous courtship, she finally heard him say the wedding vows that began his fourth, final, and most enduring marriage; one that would last more than two decades until the end of his life. Generous and jealous, witty and wicked, Frank comes alive in this poignant inside story of the highs and lows of marriage to one of the world's most famous men. In this, her first public love letter to the husband she adored, his wife celebrates the sensational singer, sexy heartthrob, possessive mate, and loyal friend that was Frank Sinatra. This book will let his legions of fans see another side of "Ol' Blue Eyes." Though Frank Sinatra's children have written memoirs about their father, this is the first time his wife of twenty-two years is sharing intimate details of life with the man and the legend. Отзывы - Написать отзыв. LibraryThing Review. Biography of Frank Sinatra by his fourth wife, Barbara Sinatra. This is an entertaining book with lots of name dropping. This is definitely an idealized version of his life with all the warts removed and the controversies overlooked, but I enjoyed reading it. Читать весь отзыв. Frank Sinatra's widow Barbara Sinatra dead at 90. Frank Sinatra's widow Barbara Sinatra has died of natural causes at her home in Rancho Mirage, Calif., at age 90, a family spokesman says. Barbara, a philanthropist who founded the Barbara Sinatra Children's Center to treat abused children, was "comfortably surrounded by family and friends" at the time of her death, according to the spokesman. Barbara had one child, Bobby Oliver, from an earlier marriage, and reportedly feuded with Sinatra's children over the years. A former model and showgirl who once claimed to have been wooed by President John F. Kennedy, the former Barbara Blakeley, a Midwestern butcher's daughter, was married to the much-older Zeppo Marx and living near the thrice-divorced singer in Palm Springs when she became acquainted with Sinatra in the 1960s. Sinatra soon recruited her to be a doubles tennis partner with his ex-wife Ava Gardner, and tried to make Gardner, with whom he had a legendary tempestuous relationship, jealous by flirting with Barbara, she revealed in her 2011 memoir "Lady Blue Eyes: My Life with Frank Sinatra." "I had no intention of becoming yet another Sinatra trophy," she wrote, although she noted that her marriage to Marx was "effectively dead" due to Marx's womanizing. One night at a gin rummy party around 1970, she wrote, "he suddenly looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time . Flashing me a lopsided smile, Frank led me into his den to find a drink and asked me to sit with him for a while. Once he turned on the charm, my defenses rolled away like tumbleweed. When he pulled me into his arms, I found myself returning his kiss with just as much ardor." The couple married in 1976 and remained together until the singer's death in 1998, longer than his three previous marriages to Nancy Barbato (with whom Sinatra had Frank Jr., Nancy and Tina); Gardner; and Mia Farrow. Nancy Sinatra later confirmed reports at the time of Sinatra's death that Barbara had not alerted Frank's children in time to be at his bedside at his passing. "I will never forgive her for that," Nancy wrote on Twitter in 2012 on the anniversary of her father's death. Barbara Sinatra disputed reports of a feud -- at least on her side: "Well, it obviously wasn't me, so it had to be them, right?," she told the New York Times in 2011. Funeral arrangements have not been set yet, but her family has requested that be gifts be sent to the Barbara Sinatra Children's Center in Rancho Mirage. Lady Blue Eyes : My Life with Frank. Barbara Sinatra’s first public love letter to the husband she adored, she celebrates the sensational singer, possessive mate, sexy heartthrob, and devoted friend that she found in Frank in Lady Blue Eyes . For more than two decades, Barbara was always by Frank Sinatra's side, traveling the globe and hosting glittering events for their famous friends, including presidents, kings, queens, Hollywood royalty, and musical legends. Among them were Sammy Davis, Jr., Princess Grace of Monaco, Bob Dylan, and Ronald Reagan. Each night, as Frank publicly wooed his bride with love songs from a concert stage, she’d fall in love with him all over again. From her own humble beginnings in a small town in Missouri to her time as a fashion model and her marriage to Zeppo Marx, Barbara Sinatra reveals a life lived with passion, conviction, and grace. A founder of the Miss Universe pageant and a onetime Vegas showgirl, she raised her only son almost single-handedly in often dire circumstances until, after five years of tempestuous courtship, she and Frank committed to each other wholeheartedly. In stories that leap off the page, she takes us behind the scenes of her iconic husband’s legendary career and paints an intimate portrait of a man who was variously generous, jealous, witty, and wicked. Coupled with revealing insights about many of Frank’s celebrated songs, this is much more than the story of a showbiz marriage. It is a story of passion and of a deep and lifelong love. Отзывы - Написать отзыв. LibraryThing Review. Biography of Frank Sinatra by his fourth wife, Barbara Sinatra. This is an entertaining book with lots of name dropping. This is definitely an idealized version of his life with all the warts removed and the controversies overlooked, but I enjoyed reading it. Читать весь отзыв.