Friday, March 07, 2008

Dylan Jones on Dino: the true leader of the Rat Pack

Hey pallies, Dylan Jones, editor or GQ has written this wonderful tribute to our Dino in UK's Daily Mail. If you wanna read it in it's orginal form, just click on the link to this Dinopost. Loves to find others who loves our Dino like we do!!!!

Dylan Jones on Dino: the true leader of the Rat Pack

Dylan Jones says Dean Martin's cool was born of sheer indifference
The ultimate lounge lizard, Dean Martin eclipses both Frank and Elvis if only because his cool was born of sheer indifference

Now, you might think you're cool. You might be standing there in front of your full-length, bulb-framed, lava-lamp-shaped mirror, in your one-button, peak-lapel, rope-shouldered mohair midnight-blue two-piece feeling enormously pleased with yourself.

You might be admiring your brand spanking new patent-leather loafers, high-collared Harry Hill/Dylan Jones-style shirt and skinny matt-black tie and feeling enormously smug.

You may have just been given a pair of Thomas Pink gold-bullion cuff-links by your significant girlfriend, managed to approximate a fairly convincing spotted pocket handkerchief (the right way up this time) and treated yourself to a new watch with a face the size of Belgium, and therefore be thinking all is well with the world.

But let me tell you, my friend – you have nothing on Debonair Dino.

He might not have been The Voice (he was never as ambitious as Sinatra) and he might not have been The King (although Elvis copied his singing style wholesale), but he was the coolest man to ever wear a tux, and compared to him you look about as cool as Nick Clegg in a hoodie. Or a shell suit. Or anything worn by John McCririck.

Dean Martin invented cool. For 20 years, from the late Forties to the end of the Sixties, he was the epitome of louche sang-froid, a singer, actor and genuine star who conquered Hollywood, television and Tin Pan Alley.

He was the first man to ever enjoy stardom on all four fronts of stage, records, television and film.

He liked a drink – indeed, towards the end of his career it was his defining characteristic, and he was rarely seen on television without a drink of some sort in his hand (his personalised numberplate read DRUNKY). And he liked his women.

But most of all, he liked breezing through life without a care in the world. He was a star not just because he could sing well or act appealingly, but also because he was the embodiment of relaxed, funny sexiness.

In a word that first came into vogue during his rise, he was Cool. With a capital C.

He dropped out of school because he thought he was smarter than the teachers. He delivered bootleg booze, served as a blackjack dealer, worked in a steel mill and boxed as a welterweight.

And then he became one of the biggest stars in the world.

Other Italian-style singers of the time worked hard to seduce the women in the audience. To him, that came naturally – sometimes too naturally.

He worked to seduce the men, winning them over, gaining their approval through the illusion of camaraderie.

Scratch his flip, insouciant exterior… and you found a flip, insouciant interior. Which is probably why he felt so at ease with the way he dressed.

His cool wasn't born out of arrogance; it was born out of indifference.

And his uncaring air of romance reflected the flash and breezy sweet seductions of a world in which everything came down to broads, booze and money, with plenty of Amarone and linguine on the side – living high in the dirty business of dreams.

During the Sixties he refused to rehearse at all for his ridiculous TV show, instead showing up for the taping after a round of golf and winging his way through it, reading off cue cards and pretending to be drunk (sipping apple juice instead of JD). Happy days indeed.

I suppose my infatuation with Dino stems from the fact that I grew up in an environment in which he was rarely off the turntable.

From England's 1966 World Cup victory through to the first Moon landing, my early memories revolve around listening to Return To Me, Volare, Under The Bridges Of Paris, You Belong To Me and In Napoli on the American air force bases of East Anglia.

For me, these songs still define a certain kind of imported homespun sophistication, however ersatz it may be.

Also, while the whole Rat Pack ethos endures because it represents adolescence in perpetuity, Martin was more adolescent than most.

Among his Rat Pack buddies, Martin was always the joker, the Martini-drinking lounge lizard with the laissez-faire attitude and an ever-ready excuse.

What's more, he was the author of some of the best-remembered Hollywood bon mots. "I've got seven kids, and the three words you hear most around my house are 'Hello', 'Goodbye' and 'I'm pregnant'."

"You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on."

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. They wake up in the morning and that's the best they're going to feel all day."

"It was a woman who drove me to drink, and come to think of it, I never did hang around to thank her for that."

"Hey, lady! Do I look all blurry to you? 'Cause you sure look blurry to me."

So next time you go shooting your cuffs, rolling your shoulders or pumping out your chest, think again.

Don't get above yourself, buddy, because in the grand scheme of things you're about as 'hip' as a Kula Shaker tribute band.

And when you're next about to venture out on the town, be sure to do the decent thing and put on some Dino before you leave the house.

You might never look like Dino, you might never have his luck with wine, women and song, but at least you can brush up on your karaoke.

After all, if it was good enough for Elvis, then it's certainly good enough for you.

Dylan Jones is the editor of GQ


Always On Watch said...

Dino in the UK's Daily Mail? Wonderful! I left a comment (I'm a blogger, after all) and hope that the paper publishes my little tribute.

As you know, Dino was beloved in England. They knew talent and good time when they saw those qualities!

Not mentioned in the article...Dino was a staunch American patriot. He felt blest to live in America, even though he started out in the rough town of Steubenvill and grew up during the Great Depression.

Thanks for alerting us Dean Martin fans to this article in the UK press.

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie AOW, no problem Dinogal...I left some Dinopatter like yesterday which has not been Dinoposted yet...hope perhaps you have more Dinosuccess...

Rogue Spy 007 said...

I left some Dinopatter of my own there. I loved this article. Dean Martin is the King of Cool. No debate on that. He oozes more cool in his little finger than most dudes in their entire bodies. Women wanted to be with him and men wanted to be him. He was all that is cool, hip, and randy. We would benefit from following his words of wisdom, living our lives like he did his. What an amazing fella! He is truly beloved around the world. Pallies all over the globe recognize how awesome Dino truly is.

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie Keith, dude I loves, really loves the way you express your like total Dinopassion...indeed we all do benefit from followin' the life and teachin' of our King of Cool...thanks for your faithfulness to our Dino and to this blog devoted to him.

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dino martin peters said...

hey pallie, like thanks for droppin' in and glad you like the post and the ol' Dinoblog...feel free to stop by any ol' Dinotime...