20 of 20 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Absolutely Heartbreaking...., March 11, 2007
This review is from: Mr. S: My Life with Frank Sinatra (Paperback)
"Mr. S: My Life with Frank Sinatra," written by George Jacobs - Frank's valet/personal assistant; friend; confidante of 15 years, is a very candid and extremely engrossing book. In every page, it is clear that George Jacobs truly loved Frank Sinatra as a brother. Although I knew quite a bit about Frank Sinatra's life already, I was totally unprepared for how interesting and "can't-put-it-down" this book turned out to be. I loved it.
Frank Sinatra was the best of men and the absolute worst of men. He was the most generous of men and yet he was the most vindictive of men as well. He was a contradiction in human nature in extremes. If you even slightly offended him or were perceived as disloyal, you seldom got another chance.
George tells of his relationship with Frank and Frank's rise and fall and rise back again to fame. He writes of his adventures with Frank's family and how wonderful "Big Nancy" was to Frank - long after the divorce. After reading this, I truly thought Frank Sinatra's first wife was a saint!
I expected this book to touch on just the superficial, but it really delved into a part of our history. Like millions of baby boomers, I idolized John F. Kennedy. Yes - I knew that he had an affair with Marilyn Monroe, but I didn't know about the barrage of call girls and cocaine. When JFK was campaigning, he asked George, "What do colored people want?" Diplomatically, George responded that he didn't know and asked Jack what he wanted (for our country). JFK, with a big leering grin, responded," I want to f*ck every woman in Hollywood." Statements like this just amazed me.
As we all know, Joe Kennedy Sr. had many mob connection from his bootlegging days. This book relates how Illinois was virtually a present to JFK from the mob in the election.
I had heard about the helicopter pad that Frank Sinatra was reported to have destroyed when John Kennedy's visit was cancelled, but I wasn't aware of the extent of John's deception. Frank Sinatra spent over a year campaigning for JFK; having "High Hopes" written and performed; and spending a fortune in anticipation of JFK's visit. Without Joe's influence, John totally turned his back on Sinatra and decided to stay at Bing Crosby's (who had supported Nixon)! Moreover, it was highly likely that he set things in motion for Marilyn's death when she threatened to expose their affair. Bobby Kennedy (whom I had also admired) and Jackie were even more ungrateful than John.
No one deserved what Woody Allen did to Mia Farrow later in life, but I couldn't help thinking that Mia was so wrong in not setting the record straight with Frank about her dancing with George. George was "babysitting" Mia and trying to pacify her when she dragged him onto the dance floor. When the paparazzi went wild with these pictures, George's life was to change forever. As a result, he was literally fired overnight by Frank Sinatra. George had money saved, but it is clear that he never recovered from this blow dealt to him by Sinatra.
My heart absolutely broke for George Jacobs. I literally cried when he tells how he burst into tears upon seeing Frank after 10 years. Frank went over and touched his shoulder and said, "Forget about it kid. It ain't so bad." I do feel Frank Sinatra "forgave" George, but I believe that Barbara Marx would never have allowed him to rehire George because he knew too much about her past.
I had always believed Barbara Marx to be a charitable woman with a great deal of class. She was actually a Vegas showgirl from a poor background who married the much older Zeppo. Everyone knew that she was simply trying to marry money and that she regularly cheated on Zeppo - often with Sinatra. He had known her for years. George was not even allowed to attend Frank Sinatra's funeral - but instead had to watch from across the street.
In the end, one realizes that George Jacobs has found peace. He honestly didn't deserve the low blow that Sinatra dealt him. However, you also realize that through his own insecurities, Frank Sinatra lost one of his dearest friends who loved him most. In the end, Frank Sinatra was the one who lost the most. I truly pray that Sinatra came to know this.
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10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Amazing Document of Cultural History, November 18, 2005
This review is from: Mr. S: My Life with Frank Sinatra (Paperback)
I didn't have high expectations for this book. The British royal family has shown us that tell-alls by "valets" and the like leave much to be desired, but this book was a wonderful surprise. It serves not only as an unusual insight into an American icon -- Frank Sinatra -- but also a cultural history of a young black man, George Jacobs, coming of age in the 1950's and 1960's with a front row seat on some of the most important figures of our time from Joe Kennedy to Ava Gardner to Sammy Davis, Jr. I think this book gives provocative insight on our American history through the lens of race, gender and popular culture.
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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
An Insider's Portrait of An Unpleasant Man, February 16, 2009
This review is from: Mr. S: My Life with Frank Sinatra (Paperback)
Well, if you thought Ol' Blue Eyes was not the nicest human being on the planet, this book won't persuade you any differently. George Jacobs, his valet from 1953 to 1968, was a talented and handsome black man who worshiped his boss and saw him through some of his most famous ups and downs. So when George dishes the gossip, as he does on almost every page, you feel like you can trust the source. George happily adopted his servile role because frankly (pun intended), there was no greater ride in the world than hanging onto Sinatra's coattails. George was able to go places and meet people and have remarkable experiences that were denied to most mortals. He swelled with pride at his insider's identity and thought that Sinatra's cruel streak would never touch him because of his loyalty. Wrong. One innocent dance with Mia Farrow (whom FS was divorcing at the time) brought down the famous wrath upon George: "In one split second, my life had been turned upside down, and I didn't have a clue why." One of the black maids abashedly handed him a letter from Sinatra's attorney: "It was short and anything but sweet. I had been dismissed, as of this instant . . . I was not to reenter the premises, nor telephone, nor in any way approach or try to contact Mr. Sinatra. My belongings would be delivered to me in three days. There was no explanation, no apology, no severance pay . . . [just the implication of] do not darken this door as long as you live." He never heard from Mr. S again.
Wow. This is how the book starts out, so you read on expecting to hear at some point a tone of bitterness or reproach--but it never comes. George remains rapturous about the glory days that he and Sinatra had together, and what results is almost a valentine to the crooner. Even so, the back cover of the book admits that Frank spared few of those close to him from rejection or scorn: "only Ava Gardner, Humphrey Bogart, and Betty Bacall." Ava was always his passion, his unrequited love, and he kept chasing her long after it made sense to do so. He basked in the Kennedy era until he felt marginalized by them and then turned nasty--such that "to be Lawfordized" became a verb symbolizing his total repudiation of someone. His first wife (Big Nancy, as opposed to Little Nancy the singer) did her best to keep the home fires burning long after his departure, but he seemed indifferent to her hausfrau efforts. Mia was, by all accounts, a hippie flake. And Barbara Marx was, well, a shrew who cut George from the funeral list in one of her many arbitrary displays of power.
So why did I read this book from cover to cover? Because George's story was itself remarkable. He strikes one as a very giving person, whose dedication to personal service reaped him many vicarious rewards. He chronicled a remarkable flux in the racial landscape during some critical years in US history, and he bestowed a kind eye on the many folks, celebrities or not, who crossed his path during his glory days. [I was pleased to read that he now earns his living as a master chef and carpenter.] And, Yes!, he ladles out the tittle-tattle in generous portions. Anyone wanting to gain real insight into Sinatra's public and private lives might want to read this book first . . .
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