“And now, the end is near…” — My Way
The crushed gravel of our disappointed days crackles beneath our footsteps as we tread the lane leading to the end of the year, trailing behind us the brightly colored banners of our victories. The year 2016 was, indeed, the best of times and the worst of times, and now, the end is near.
When most people read the lines quoted at the top of this column, they hear the laconic voice of “ol’ blue eyes,” singing the song that Paul Anka wrote for him after Frank Sinatra told him that he was “quitting the business” and needed a swan song. While vacationing in the Riviera, Anka had heard French singer Claude Francois singing a gloomy song called “Commé D’Habitude (As Usual).” Though not especially impressed with the song, Anka felt that “there was something in it” and acquired the rights to the song for free. When Sinatra called Anka to a diner to announce his retirement, Anka went home to transform “Commé D’Habitude into “My Way.” Many other performers have covered the song, from Elvis Presley to Celine Dion and Devo. But my favorite cover is by Nina Simone.
Sinatra’s rendition of the song starts slowly, as if being sung by a sighing old man resting in a recliner and musing on his life; Simone’s version blasts off from the first note, unapologetically strutting the narrator’s triumphs and failures. Piano, drums and cymbals and a fast-paced bongo are soon joined by strings as Nina sings, “My friend, I’ll say it clear … I’ve traveled each and every highway …” Nothing about Simone’s rendition of the song is low-key; even when her husky whisper says, “I’ve laughed and cried, I’ve had my fill, my share of losing,” her delivery is inspirational and hopeful, not rueful.
That’s the way I want us — me and mine and you and yours — to end this year and begin this next: Inspired and hopeful, uplifted, and upbeat. This may come naturally to some of us, while being more difficult for others: Not all of us will be celebrating triumphs. But we all must find a way forward, to step off the crushed gravel and into the freshly plowed field to sow the joyous seeds of hope.
“I faced it all and I stood tall and did it it my way …”
We cannot all stand tall and do it our way, of course. There are some rules that guide and govern all the ways we do what we do. We have to remember that we live in a civilized country, especially when we are being uncivil to each other. When Anka wrote “To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels,” he is quoted as saying that he wrote the song to match Sinatra’s persona: “(he) liked to talk like mob guys…” I’m not encouraging anyone to damage another in the pursuit of “My Wayness,” but to seek a coalition of joy and carry its banner into the New Year.
Listen to Nina’s version of the song, and match the tempo with your beating hearts. Toward the end, the boom of kettle drums punctures the rising keen of the violins; frenetic bongo-playing stitches its way toward the climax, and we ride those great hopes to the end of the song, and maybe — toward the end and the beginning of what I will do my way, and what we will do, our way.