I grew up listening to Dean Martin songs, watching his films and as far as I'm concerned, Dean Martin had a black belt in cool.
He was the definition of the word crooner and he kept not bad company. Everyone knows all about his ratpack circle of friends with Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Junior,( although they refered to themselves as "The Summit" or "The Clan" and never as "The Rat Pack") the story's are legendary.
He had loads of hit songs such as "Everybody Loves Somebody", (which knocked The Beatles' "A Hard Day's Night" out of the number-one spot in the United States in 1964) but one that really sums him up for me is "Party Dolls and Wine". The lyrics are practically autobiographical, as he famously loved to party , (if he wasn't parting it up in palm springs he was doing some serious damage in Las Vegas) and he loved the dolls , collecting three wives (and some famous bed post notches were rumored to be left by Marilyn Munroe and Petula Clark) and he also loved the wine as he was famously often drunk on stage , yet managed to remained professional and still delivered. Note to Winehouse.
What I liked about him was that he never tried to be cool , he wasn't following in anyones footsteps , he was just himself , he sort of didn't give a fuck , he was just Dean , and that was cool enough, he was a stylish sharp dressed guy who never seemed rushed or panicked , just layed back and always effortlessly suave, but never pretentious.
He and Sinatra was largely responsible for the integration of Las Vegas. they refused to appear anywhere that barred Sammy Davis, forcing the casinos to open their doors to African-American entertainers and patrons, and to drop restrictive covenants against Jews.
My Grandad not only bared an uncanny physical resemblance to him but actually sang like him as well , this earned him the nickname Deano , which is actually where i got my name from , Taa-daah !!!
Dean Martin died on Christmas day 1995 ages 78, leaving behind shoes that no one can fill , partly because they've since been hidden by a chubby Canadian called Buble who's desperately trying to ram his mediocre imitating feet in them. Pitiful.
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