Frank Sinatra hanging out with Yul Brynner at Franks Palm Springs crib. This picture really says more than a thousand words.
I can just imagine it. It’s early evening. The two pals have probably enjoyed a
super sweet day. Maybe a bit of golf in the morning, a well needed (after 18 holes) and relaxing lunch at the club,
gone back to Frank’s place, hung out by the pool, letting the cool water wash off the bunker sand from the legs as they dive in, listening to some great music
and played some random tennis. Now they have cleaned up, they feel a bit beat
and energized at the same time by the activities that day. Having just met up by the pool
again, the early evening temperature is just right. Not to warm, but warm
enough for it to be really comfortable. The desert country sunrays just warming
up the surface of the newly showered skin, nothing more. Sipping on some gin
and tonics, talking about the days events and with the help of the 50/50 GT’s reflecting
on life in general, the calm before the storm, waiting for the rest of the gang
(you know who they are, Dean, Marilyn etc) and some randomly invited people to
show up for the mad BBQ that is just about to begin…
…what followed we will never know,
but my guess is that none of us would have minded being one of those randomly
invited persons.
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