That's Life or Strangers in the Night By? Sandy Semerad

Husband Larry has been singing this song over and over lately. “That’s life. That’s what people say. You’re riding high in April. Shot down in May…”

“Why do you keep singing that?” I asked him.

“It’s stuck in my brain,” he answered. “Blame that television commercial.”

He has a point. The ad agency no doubt chose Frank Sinatra’s rendition of the song for that particular commercial, because it’s addictive, as many of Sinatra’s songs are.

Thanks to Larry and the commemoration of Sinatra’s birth, December 12, a hundred years ago, I’ve reconnected with the man and his music. I can't quite believe Sinatra would have been a centenarian by now had he lived, although he was thought dead when he was born, according to reports. The forceps used to birth him, scarred the left side of his face and neck and punctured an ear drum, but he miraculously survived to become a legend who sang mostly by ear.

           In the eighties, though it seems like yesterday, I exercised while listening to a cassette of Fly me to the Moon, I've got you under my skin, That’s why the Lady is a tramp, That old black magic, My way, to name a few. As I jogged around my house, Sinatra sang to me, making my workout bearable.

          When he came to the Atlanta Omni in 1988, I went to see him. I brought along binoculars for the momentous occasion. I wanted to view old blue eyes up close.

          At 73 years old, his singing had lost some of its steam. Camel cigarettes and Jack Daniels had taken their toll. I've read he had a preference for Jack, “two fingers with a splash of water.” (I gave one of my characters in A MESSAGE IN THE ROSES, a fondness for the drink. Had I subconsciously thought of Sinatra? Maybe).

           

           But getting back to the Omni performance, he was touring with Liza Minnelli and Sammy Davis, Jr. Their voices rang out stronger than Frank’s back then, but his charisma and magical interpretations, still touched and inspired me. I loved his unique phraseology. He captivated me with the stories he told through song.

Sinatra interpreted lyrics his own way and when I think about the words to My Way, another Sinatra hit, they seemed to describe him:  “For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught. To say the things he truly feels, and not the words of one who kneels. The record shows I took the blows, and did it my way!”

            When he sang My Way, I was convinced, he meant it. Although the lyric contains clichés, he gave each word a special meaning, as if singing the story of his life: “Yes, there were times. I’m sure you knew. When I bit off more than I could chew, but through it all when there was a doubt, I ate it up and spit it out. I faced it all and I stood tall and I did it my way…”

            Yet, those who knew Sinatra claimed he disliked My Way. He thought the song sounded cocky, they said.Perhaps this was another contradiction in his complex life, which Kitty Kelly revealed in her unauthorized biography entitled, His Way. 

           In her book, she exposed the flaws of a man who demanded perfection. According to Kelly, Sinatra could be brash and appear overly self-confident.

          Kelly wrote about his unstable upbringing, ties with the mafia, his manic depression, suicide attempts, his affairs and love life, his political associations and feud with President John Kennedy, whom he once idolized. However, the book also talked about his intense work ethic, his generosity and how he despised and battled racism and antisemitism.

          After I read Kelly's book about Sinatra, I decided no words will ever dispel his brilliant talent, as a legendary singer, actor and performer, nor weaken my gratitude to him for enriching my life with his music.

          There’s just this one particular song I need a reprieve from, but it’s Larry’s birthday today, December 21, and if he wants to sing that song over and over, so be it.

         Larry, like Sinatra, endured a difficult childhood. He had a hip disease, confining him to a wheel chair. But he overcame his disability to become a Bengal Bouts boxing champ at Notre Dame and Golden Gloves champ.

          I recently asked him, “What’s your favorite Frank Sinatra song?”

           “I really like, That’s Life,” he said.
  
          “Yes, I know,” I said. “That’s obvious.”

           “I used to like New York, New York, but I've heard it and played it so much, it’s not my favorite anymore.”

           “Can you think of another song, perhaps a love song of Sinatra’s that you like?”

          He frowned. “Let me think. Refresh my memory. Pull up Sinatra on YouTube and let me hear a few.”

           I did. I was certain he’d pick one. He adores music. He plays the piano beautifully and writes poems.

          Larry listened quietly, and eventually said, “Stranger in the Night.” Larry and I were like stranger in the night when we met, and we've been married for twenty-two years this month, December 11. His selection of this song is sweet, I think.

           So, I've been practicing. “Strangers in the night exchanging glances….”

          I may sing it all day long. It’s addictive. And then on Christmas Eve switch to Silent Night. Merry Christmas!

          To read more about my writing, please visit my web site: 
www.sandysemerad.com

My latest book A MESSAGE IN THE ROSES is featured below:

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Santa Magic: The Adult Years by Stuart R. West

One click away from ridiculousness.

I remember the thrill of waking up on Christmas morning. The magic of a big man in a sleigh, sneaking into your house at night (in a non-threatening way, of course!), bringing good will and joy.  And toys, can’t forget the toys. There always seemed to be a strange lingering magic dust in the air, a smoke screen of wonder blurring the blinking Christmas tree lights.

When you’re young, it’s by far the best part of Christmas. No matter what anyone tells you.

But as a child, when I began to question the whole Santa Claus thing (“But…how can Santa be at this mall, when he’s at Steve’s Shoe Shack at the same time?”), realizing the absolute impossibility of it all, a part of my childhood went into hibernation. It didn’t die, just crawled into a cave for a long nap. 

My parents were hardcore about the myth of Santa Claus. Even kept it up while I was in college. No one was fooling anyone and we all knew it. But the dumber you played, the longer you indulged in the game, the more likely you’d get cool gifts. One year, my brother and I found the “secret Santa stash” in the basement, unwrapped the presents, oohed and ahhed over them. Sealed the presents shut again. Okay, fine, not very magical, but we were know-it-all, “worldly” kids (or so we thought).

Finally, we let the cat out of the bag, let my parents off the hook. Told them to cut it out. There is no Santa Claus. Hard to believe, but my mother looked sad at our revelation. And that’s when socks and underwear became the norm as gifts.

I suppose I don’t blame my mom, not really. Once your own childhood thrill is gone, you live vicariously through your children’s excitement. The circle of life.

Seeing Christmas through the eyes of my young daughter reawakened my hibernating inner child.

I lived a double life: Dad and Santa. And I thrived on it. I loved watching my daughter sit next to the tree amidst an avalanche of colorfully wrapped gifts.  Her eyes lit up as she opened her presents, wondering how the Big Man in Red knew what she wanted. (And this particular “Big Man in Red” went to a lot of effort searching for what my daughter asked for. Always the hottest, hardest to find toys. Always. I have lots of war-torn Christmas stories. But that’s a tale for another time.).

It was all worth it.

But all good things come to an end (a rather cynical saying my mother used to tell me).

One day, while pushing my daughter on the back-yard swing set (the same swing set we had the dreaded sex talk on a year or so later), she said, “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Is Santa real? Or is he, like, parents making him up and stuff? You know, sneaking around and putting gifts under the tree. Pretending.”

A quandary. I always taught her not to lie. Yet…I wanted to keep the mythology alive; if not for her, than for me. I hemmed and hawed, finally said, “Do you believe he’s real?”

“I guess.” Not really.

“Well, if you believe he’s real, then he is. Merry Christmas!” I ran quick interference, shouting, over-zealously hugging, cheek-kissing. The works. Anything to avoid telling her the truth.

Yet, I could tell, just by the way she forlornly nodded, she didn’t buy into my non-answer. The magic had dissipated, the Santa dust drifting away into an invisible cloud.

We played the game for a few more years. But we both knew the jig was up. Knowing winks were shared; smart-alecky comments were dropped whenever the mythical Man in Red came up.

A sad time, a rite of passage. Not only for children, but also for parents.

Last year, my youngest niece quit believing in Santa. Over Christmas dinner, I asked her why.

“I mean, the whole thing was kinda weird,” she explained. “How Santa could hit all the houses in the world in one night. Yeah, right.” (Her examination of the impossibilities of the Easter Bunny was even better.)

Laughter ensued. But it foretold the end of Santa magic for our family.

But my now grown daughter brought me back in.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Do you believe in Santa?”

I hugged her. “You know I do.”

Bring on the next generation! 

Happy holidays, everyone!

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It's Almost Christmas and we've got SNOW! by Nancy M Bell

Hello again. Hard to believe a month has gone by so fast. Christmas is just around the corner and the air is filled with carols and Christmas music everywhere. The town has put up their light display in Nose Creek Park and it is spectacular as always.

My birthday is on the 20th and man, I'm getting old! It got me thinking about Christmas when we were kids. I thought I'd share a few memories with you all. Every Christmas Eve we would pile in the car and visit four of my dad's five sisters. Auntie Irma lived near Ottawa and that was too far for a day trip. But we hit all the others, from Whitevale to Mississauga. By the end of the night we were full of junk food and high on sugar. One Christmas Eve we had just pulled in the drive at home when what did we see but Santa Claus coming down the neighbor's drive. My sister and I jumped out of the car and raced into the house. We slept in bunk beds in our parent's room. We ran through the kitchen down the hall and into our beds with our coats and boots still. We refused to get up and take them off because SANTA WAS RIGHT NEXT DOOR AND HE WAS COMING HERE NEXT!

Of course, he still came even though we only pretended to be asleep for about ten minutes before we really fell asleep. The Christmas Eve journey was always exhausting. In the morning we got up early and opened presents except for the ones for my gramma and grampa who lived with us. Daddy would make bacon and eggs for breakfast and then my grandparents would get up and we'd open presents with them. Right after that the kitchen was off limits to us as Mom and Gramma started working on Christmas dinner.

Aunt Francis and Uncle Jim always came for dinner and brought their dachshund with them. Over the years the dogs changed, but always a dachshund. Sandy, Tanja, and I can't remember the last one's name. We could get away with murder when Sandy was around because he would bite Daddy if he tried to discipline us. Aunt Francis sold Avon so we always knew the gift was something from Avon. For dinner Dad would pull out the big table that folded up very small and put in all the leaves so it filled the whole living room. Granted the house was pretty small but to me it seemed like the biggest table ever.

From my family to yours wishing you all the best for the Holiday Season.

Available For a limited time

A Longview Christmas

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Casting Your Characters - Sagittarius - Janet Lane Walters

Here goes with character traits for Sagittarians to help develop characters.

Sagittarian Sun or the inner person --These people are jovial, bright, hopeful and generous. They are generally self-reliant and out-spoken. There frankness can lead to problems. A Saggitarian heroine or hero is ambitious and not easily discouraged. They like liberty and out-door activity. Their strong will can present problems for they will not be driven.

Ascendant - Outer self. This is the face shown to the world. The Sagittarian hero or heroine is very independent and will not be ordered around. They can be impulsive and out-spoken. The hero or heroine can be found with their foot in their mouth. He or she can be nervously energetic and quick to make decisions. They have foresight especially in regards to business. He or she can appear blunt and abrupt. They can be high-strung. This hero or heroine likes animals.

Moon -- the emotional nature. This character can be benevolent and humanitarian. He or she can be sociable and loves to travel. They often change their residence frequently. This is a quick worker who may find themselves in the public eye either in a positive or negative way. The hero or heroine can benefit through women.

One of My Favorite Christmas Songs - Roseanne Dowell

  One of my favorite Christmas songs is Round and Round the Christmas Tree by Bing Crosby.  We start singing it right about now.
I'm sure by now you know I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of year. There's something magical about it for me. I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's my childhood memories or maybe it's being with family. I love everything about this time of year, shopping, the hustle and bustle of getting ready, buying gifts, even wrapping them. Not that I have many to wrap any more. Even though our family has grown by leaps and bounds, finances haven't. I've had to cut back and for my kids and the married (or coupled) grandchildren, I often make them something. The rest of my grandchildren get something small to open and a gift of money. To me spending time with my family is more important than any gift. It wasn't much different when we were growing up. Money was tight back then, also and gifts weren't plentiful. Honestly, I hardly remember any of my Christmas presents. Memories from the time spent with my aunts, uncles and cousins - well like the commercial says - Priceless.
Every Christmas Eve, my aunt and uncle came to our house with my four cousins for dinner. We had a traditional dinner -which I make to this day, but instead of having it on Christmas Eve, we do it a week before Christmas. It gives us another day to celebrate and be together.
After dinner, we always went to my grandparents' house where other aunts and uncles gathered. There weren't any gifts to open for anyone but my grandparents. Until this moment, I can't honestly say I noticed. Christmas wasn't about the gifts.Christmas Day we went to my aunt's and uncle's for dinner. Yes, the very same ones we spent Christmas Eve with. Again, no gifts were exchanged. It was a time for family, love, and making memories. Yes, Christmas is my favorite time of year and always will be.
To each and everyone of you, I wish you all a Blessed and Merry Christmas.

My book, Time To Love Again is about a widow who faces another lonely Christmas - Fifty-eight year old, Rose Asbury  doesn’t care that people think she's a recluse or that the neighborhood kids thinks she's a grouch. She just wants to be left alone. She doesn’t need anyone and no one needs her and that’s just fine. At least she didn’t until this year. For some reason this year is different. Suddenly, Rose is melancholy and discontent with her life. And the man next door doesn’t help matters. He insists on speaking to her. So her stomach tumbles every time she sees him, that doesn’t mean anything. Hunger pangs, nerves, Rose just wishes he’d leave her alone. Or does she? To top it all off, his granddaughter and her friends insist on playing in Rose's yard, sledding, building snowmen and throwing snowballs at her house. Then Rose's sister’s ghost shows up and life changes drastically. Available at Amazon

Below is the song Round and Round The Christmas Tree. You can hear it on: YouTube

Round and round the Christmas tree
Presents hanging there for you and me
Lights all shining merrily

Christmas a week away

A-ring around the Christmas tree
Children making up a melody
Grown-ups laughing happily
Christmas a day away

Wishing, hoping, boxes to open
But we agree it's right to wait
Turkey and dressing, after the blessing
And there's just a night to wait

Round and round the Christmas tree
Opening presents with the family
One for you and two for me
Oh what a Christmas Day

Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong,
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Round and round the Christmas tree
Presents hanging there for you and me,
Lights all shining merrily
Christmas a week away

Lights all shining merrily
Christmas a week away
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Wishing, hoping, boxes to open
But we agree it's right to wait
Turkey and dressing, after the blessing
And there's just a night to wait

Round and round the Christmas tree
Opening presents with the family
One for you and two for me
Oh what a Christmas Day
Oh what a Christmas Day
Oh what a Christmas Day
Oh what a Christmas Day
Oh what a Christmas Day

 You can find my latest book All's Well That Ends Well at Amazon 

You'll Laugh Until Your Sides Split at this Brand New Comic Mystery

Books We Love is very excited to introduce readers to Zack and Zora in Stuart R. West's brand new comic mystery series.  This is a delightful treat, a hilarious read, and a just plain funny, feel good story of a brother and sister caught up in the zaniest murder mystery plot imaginable.  An excellent choice for de-stressing from all that holiday fever.

Bad Day in a Banana Hammock

Bad Day in a Banana Hammock

A Zach and Zora Mystery

Zach wakes up with no memory, no phone, and no clothes except his stripper g-string. And oh yeah! There’s that pesky naked dead guy in bed next to him. Problem is Zach's not gay. Or a murderer. At least, he doesn't think so. Only one person can help him, his sister, Zora. Of course Zora's got problems of her own—she has three kids at home and is eight month's pregnant with the fourth. So she’s a bit cranky. But that’s not going to stop her from helping her brother. With kids in tow, the siblings set how to find the true killer, clear Zach's name, and reassure Zach he's not gay.

“An hilarious murder mystery romp. Ride along with Zach and Zora on this most entertaining of mysteries.”-Heather Brainerd, author of the Jose Picada, P.I. mystery series.

“A fun, quirky whodunit so full of wild antics, it will keep you guessing...when you're not giggling.”-Heather Greenis, author of The Natasha Saga.

“Bad Day in a Banana Hammock will have you wiping up tears of hysterical laughter.”-Suzanne de Montigney, author of the Shadow of the Unicorn series.

Just Released from Books We Love - Stock Up Your Holiday Readers

PURCHASE FROM BOOKS WE LOVE

     Witness Security, Book 3 - COVER OF DARKNESS
It's US Marshal Ben Markham's job to keep witnesses alive, but providing protection to BDSM social club owners who stumble onto double murders isn't at the top of his bucket list. Still, protecting Mitzi Pomeroy until trial has its perks. Like close contact with gorgeous, smart-as-a-whip Assistant DA Addison Decker. Too bad Addie doesn't come with a warning label. Who'd have thought an ADA could have so many secrets? Or that those secrets will find Ben and his partner Nick Pierce scrambling to keep them all alive?

"Suspense at its finest. This book has it all, romance and mystery. A real thriller. Ms. Hill has done it again." ~ Romance/mystery author, Roseanne Dowell

"I've been waiting and waiting for this one. Jamie Hill's Witness Security books are on the top of my reading list. I'm so excited that Cover of Darkness is here before Christmas - it's also on my "gift" list for romantic suspense reading friends and family." ~ Jude Pittman, author of the Kelly McWinter, A Murder State of Mind series

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