One night in 1984 I showed up at a woman’s apartment in Miami with a bottle of tequila, a bottle of cointreau and a Frank Sinatra album.
She rolled a couple of joints while I mixed the booze in a pitcher and we sat on the bed smoking grass and drinking hardcore margaritas.
We ended up playing one of the Sinatra songs over and over. You tend to do that when you’re high.
Unlike the guy in the song, I didn’t lose her to the summer wind. We were together for thirty-four years, a turbulent marriage but a solid one. In †he end I lost her to the winter wind.
🎶 And now the days, those lonely days, go on and on…