Rickles' Book by Don Rickles and David Ritz Page B

show. I could see why his fans were so loyal. But of course loyalty for me always goes back to Sinatra.
    In the eighties, we became even closer. When Frank married his Barbara, he finally found a stable domestic life. They loved entertaining and were fabulous hosts. We loved when we were invited to their place in Palm Springs for the weekend. Everyone called it the Compound.
    The Compound was spacious and relaxed. The guest quarters were separate from the main house. Guests were given a beautiful bedroom and private bath. There was a fully stocked kitchen and lots of help to make sure you were comfortable.
    After you settled in, Frank called you to the main house, where he’d be listening to music in the den. Drinks were served and the fun began.
    One Easter weekend, we were there with three other couples: Veronique and Gregory Peck, Luisa and Roger Moore, and Jolene and George Schlatter.
    “Rib Peck,” Frank urged me. “Try to shake him up a little.”
    “Captain Ahab,” I said to Greg in my best Peck voice, “the sea is stormy, the sailors are restless.”
    Peck, of course, played Ahab in the movie Moby Dick .
    Greg went along with it, and Frank thought my kibitzing was hilarious.
    “More,” Sinatra urged me out of the side of his mouth, “you’re getting to him.”
    “Take it easy, Frank. I don’t want to upset the guy.”
    “Relax, Rickles,” said Sinatra, “I got you covered.”
    “We’ve sighted the whale, sir!” I shouted to Greg. “To the harpoons!”
    Greg half-smiled.
    Next day, I was lounging by the pool when Frank came over and sat next to me.
    “When Peck gets out here,” he said, “this time really lay it on him. It makes him crazy.”
    “Gee, Frank,” I replied, “I like the man.”
    “Hey, I know Greg,” said Sinatra. “He secretly loves it.”
    So like a dummy, to make Frank happy, I continued.
    “Captain Ahab!” I shouted as soon as Gregory appeared, his little dog running behind him. “The men are in mutiny. There’s trouble on deck.”
    As I got up to give Peck a captain’s salute, his little dog ran under my chair. When I sat down, the dog’s tail got entangled in the chair and he yelped like crazy. I jumped up to free the dog.
    “Look at this,” Frank said to Greg, “now the man’s attacking your dog.”
    Greg looked at Frank, then looked at me, then picked up his dog and hurried off.
    A few days later, Greg sent flowers to me and Barbara and a kind letter of apology for leaving abruptly. But Frank kept saying, “See what you did to Captain Ahab, Don? If his dog dies, you’re in real trouble.”
    During the Saturday night dinner Frank said, “I think it’d be nice if we all went to church tomorrow.”
    “Frank,” I said, “I’d really prefer to sit by the pool. You may have heard, I’m Jewish.”
    “Don’t worry, the priest is a personal friend.”
    That night, Sinatra was in an especially good mood and the pre-Easter celebration went on till the wee small hours.
    Next morning, we woke up, got dressed and the four of us—me, Barbara and the Moores—walked to the main house to meet Mr. and Mrs. S.
    But Mr. S. never showed.
    “He’s decided to sleep in,” said his Barbara, “but he wants us all to go.”
    We went to the church. We sat in the first pew. We listened to the music. We listened to the sermon. I can’t say I was all that comfortable, but respect is respect.
    When it came time to put money in the basket, I dropped in fifty dollars and Roger nodded approvingly.
    “You gave for everyone,” said Roger. “Happy Easter, Don.”
    How about that? It costs me fifty bucks to be Catholic. And Frank was still in bed singing “My Way.”

“Can the Prince Come Out
and Play?”
    T he Sinatras and the Rickleses also spent time together on the Riviera in Monte Carlo. Frank’s great pal and restaurateur, Jilly Rizzo, was there as well.
    “Look, Don,” Jilly told me, “you see how your suite overlooks Frank’s? Well, every morning I’ll come out