"My Way"

Fifty years ago (1969) Frank Sinatra first sang “My Way.”   Paul Anka wrote the lyrics and he wrote them for his “hero,” Francis Albert Sinatra.  The song represents a particular idea of American individualism—it’s all about me, me, me, and me!  The song was played at the inaugural ball for President Trump and has become in some ways a “chest-thumping” American anthem.  Even Sinatra found the song a little much; too much, he said, about me, me, me, and me.  I’ve teasingly suggested to my wife that the song be played at my funeral.  After all, according to a poll of funeral directors, the song was named the most-played song at funerals a few years ago.

The song portrays an aging protagonist (Sinatra had been around for a long time in 1969) reflecting on his life and its achievements:

 “I’ll state my case, of which I am certain/I’ve lived a life that’s full/I traveled each and every highway/And more, much more/I did it, I did it my way/Regrets, I’ve had a few/But then again, too few to mention/I did what I had to do/And saw it through without exemption/I planned each charted course/Each careful step along the byway/And more, much, much more/I did it, I did it my way/Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew/When I bit off more than I could chew/And through it all, whenever there was doubt/I ate it up and spit it out/I faced it all and I stood tall/And did it, did it my way/I’ve loved, laughed and cried/I’ve had my fill my share of losing/And now, as tears subside/I find that it’s all so amusing/And to think I did all that/And may I say not in a shy way/No, no, not me/I did it my way/For what is a man, what has he got/If not himself, then he has naught/Not to say the things that he truly feels/And not the words of someone who kneels/The record shows I took all the blows/And did it my way.”

Last April, circumstances were such that I was unable to do the annual mulching of my flowerbeds.  So I hired a couple of fellows to do it for me.  Before they even began the work, one of them told me, “Now remember, we probably won’t do it the way you would do it.”  He was right—they didn’t do it my way—even though they did a decent and acceptable job.

This spring, in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic and the stay-at-home requirements, I was able to do the mulching my way.  Three loads of mulch were delivered following social distancing guidelines.  The flowerbeds were carefully edged and prepared my way, and the three loads of mulch were distributed my way, and the task was completed yesterday my way.

This morning this protagonist looks out the window upon his finished work.  The sore muscles, the aching back now forgotten, and sings….   

“Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew…

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall

And did it, I did it my way.”

"There isn't a parallel of latitude but thinks it
would have been the equator if it had had
its rights." (Mark Twain)