One of my DJs at Phat Cats, my ballroom in Second Life, played a song for me. Her name is DJ Delo, and she knows the song. Everybody who knows me well knows the song. It's "My Way," made famous by Frank Sinatra. And, being the impulsive old bastard that I am, I decided I should write something about my life. See? That's how it works with me. I hear a song, something pops into my head, and suddenly I'm off doing something else. I don't need six months to think about it, a committee to approve it, or somebody to tell me whether it's a good idea. I feel like doing something, so I do it. Sometimes it turns out wonderfully. Sometimes it turns into a complete disaster. And sometimes, many years later, I look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking. But there's a reason that particular song means so much to me, and it goes back a very long way.

When I was a kid, I knew Frank Sinatra. I don't mean I once saw him perform or stood in line to get an autograph. I knew him. I spent time around him and other entertainers at the Diplomat Hotel in Hollywood, Florida. I sang with Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and others on many occasions. Sinatra treated me like a friend, even though I was just a kid. He gave me plenty of advice over the years, and I learned a great deal from those people. Well, most of them. Jackie Gleason was an ass, but that's another story. Sammy Davis Jr. taught me a great deal about racism, too, and that's a story that deserves an article of its own. For now, what matters is that I spent part of my childhood around some remarkable people, and I genuinely believe that the song "My Way" influenced the way I approached life. Maybe I was already inclined to live that way and the song simply reinforced it. After all, I've been told I was a rebel from the day I was born, and 65 years later, nobody has managed to straighten me out.

My parents certainly tried. We never really had a particularly good relationship, and I don't think they had the slightes