Tony Bennett, forever young

When I was writing my book “Growing Up Italian,” Tony Bennett was a personality I felt had to be in it. Contacting him got nowhere. He was guarded over, not by a watchdog, but by two sons famous for protecting papa from the press and other pesky people like me. I persisted and when word finally got to him, I received a phone call from one son, saying, “My father heard about your book and said he wants to be in it.” Hip, hip, hooray!

Tony was then about 57 (I was two years older) and getting up in years, so to speak. One of the great things about him is that he keeps himself eternally youthful and enthusiastic with a second passion, painting– doing portraits of people, especially. When I appeared on the day of the interview, he had been at his easel in front of a window with brushes, paints and an open book nearby. We sat down and I took out my questions and other papers, including a flier announcing his new engagement, and my business card. I handed him the card for future reference.

Suddenly, he asked, looking at the card, “Is this how you spell your name?” On his face was a look of marvel. He went to his easel and picked up the open book. “Did you write this book?”

“Yes,” I said amazed. “That’s my book!”

“My God,” he said. “This book is my bible. I always have it open when I paint.” We both hooted and hollered with glee.

“Wait,” he said, “I want you to autograph it for me.” As he reached for a pen, I pulled out the flier I had picked up about his new concert.

“And I want you to autograph this for me!” I handed him the flier. We exchanged autographs, each in a state of excitement.

We then proceeded to business and he gave me one of the best interviews in “Growing Up Italian.”