One can read Don Rickles' anecdote-driven memoir Rickles' Book in an hour, seriously. Still, it's worth it for one story. It seems he took a first date to the The Sands one night, where Sinatra was headlining. His date spotted Sinatra and his entourage in the corner of the lounge after the performance, so he told her that Frank was like a brother to him. She asked whether Rickles could introduce her to Frank, propelling him in the darkness to approach this superstar who, in truth, was a relative stranger to Rickles. Frank said he'd think about it.
Sinatra kept Rickles waiting and sweating in anticipation until finally approaching their table and exclaiming, "Don, how the hell are you?" Rickles paused, looked annoyed, and turned to Frank saying, "Not now, Frank, can't you see I'm with somebody." Now, as is well known, Frank could have done virtually anything in that situation. What he did, however, was to fall down laughing and fall in love with a guy he'd call "bullethead" for the rest of his life.
I was fortunate to see Rickles in the old Sahara in 1980. He first opened in Vegas there in 1959, back when the Sahara defined that end of The Strip, and enjoyed many multi-year runs there. I recall loving the show but praying that he would not come anywhere near my table in his capacity as "the merchant of venom."
Add Rickles (81) to the list of legends such as Mort Sahl, Kirk Douglas and Les Paul we should appreciate while they are still with us. (See blog entry Onward Mort Sahl, August 28, 2007.)
Sinatra kept Rickles waiting and sweating in anticipation until finally approaching their table and exclaiming, "Don, how the hell are you?" Rickles paused, looked annoyed, and turned to Frank saying, "Not now, Frank, can't you see I'm with somebody." Now, as is well known, Frank could have done virtually anything in that situation. What he did, however, was to fall down laughing and fall in love with a guy he'd call "bullethead" for the rest of his life.
I was fortunate to see Rickles in the old Sahara in 1980. He first opened in Vegas there in 1959, back when the Sahara defined that end of The Strip, and enjoyed many multi-year runs there. I recall loving the show but praying that he would not come anywhere near my table in his capacity as "the merchant of venom."
Add Rickles (81) to the list of legends such as Mort Sahl, Kirk Douglas and Les Paul we should appreciate while they are still with us. (See blog entry Onward Mort Sahl, August 28, 2007.)