My Way

My Way I saw the three tenors sing “I did it my way” mind, the fat one died, and the two others hate each other and never appear in public if they can avoid it. Of the two one looks like an aging matinée idol the other suffers from being mobbed at school and looks scared has nightmares and takes to tears before going on stage. I still like Frank Sinatra`s rendition of that song better he sang it so relaxed with a clear diction and made me think of a man with six pack ambling on his way home he too is dead to “My Way” is about human hubris we think we are masters of our destiny when we are leaves blowing along a wet asphalted road in the autumnal half-light. Thinking back- I can afford to- I never got a thing my way which when young caused me bitterness the highest prize eluded me kismet knew I could not handle illustriousness it would have made me look absurd a swaggering fool hated by colleagues, on the stage of life. Yet, when dancing the tango at a nightclub in Buenos Aires 54 years ago the applause I received still rings sweetly in my ears.