#deana martin

[oddvaults]

The Monkees 2x24 "Some Like It Lukewarm"

[cosmic60s]

Deana Martin and Gary Lewis. A publicity photo from when they played the Caesar Palace in Las Vegas.

[jerrylewis-thekid]

I wonder if you've read the book. I wonder if she just advertised it because they paid her to do it. He said Jerry was like his uncle. I really... I feel like crying. I had never seen so much hatred towards a man before.

[digthe60s]

Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra with their families on the set of the The Dean Martin Show for a Christmas special in December 1967. Photo by Martin Mills.

[fredandginger64]

This was 1994, only a year before Dean passed. When asked about Jerry, Dean said "Jerry changed". But he wouldn't say anymore, just kind of jokingly said he got heavier and that he doesn't look like he did when he was making movies. It was a joke but it tells me he paid attention to Jerry all those years. There was something very private between these two.

[coolcherrycream]

What It's Like Working With The Monkees by Deana Martin from Monkee Spectacular (June 1968)

Last month I told you about the wild way I got to be on the Monkees' television show. But I had no idea that I'd be having an even wilder time once I started to work with them!

I found out on a Tuesday that we would be filming on Thursday and Friday. I really panicked! I said, "I've got to memorize my lines--fast!" Then I thought again and said to myself, "Wait a minute... the Monkees never memorize their lines. They do it mostly ad lib...

Read more

[gatutor]

Robert Young Jr.-Deana Martin "Pistolero" (Young Billy Young) 1969, de Burt Kennedy.

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the legendary, consummate entertainer, comedian, singer, and actor, Dean Martin. In the late 1940s he broke out in a hugely successful comedy duo with Jerry Lewis, then was seared into public conciousness with Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis, Jr. in The Rat Pack. My respect for Dino grew around his musical choices and catalogue of material. I do several covers of his songs (especially in my care home set) and my original song “Somebody Loves You (Like Dino Said)” has a direct refraction on Dean’s “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You.” In 1955 he had a #1 hit with the folk-doo wop song “Memories Are Made of This.” It became a theme for a book written by his daughter Deana, a singer in her own right whose career intersected with The Monkees and Davy Jones (they also dated back in the day), and there was a phase where she’d sit in on our gigs + she sang with us at Davy’s 2012 New York memorial and a Monkees Convention in 2013. Davy was also close friends with Dino Martin (of Dino Desi & Billy), and when they weren’t driving old army tanks around in the desert, they played pool with Dean at Dean’s home. Davy was quite a comedy quipster, and he often said, “It’s OK to steal my jokes. I just stole them from someone else.” One of his “someone else” sources was Dean Martin.

“Memories Are Made of This” was written by Richard Dehr, Terry Gilkyson, and Frank Miller—as The Easy Riders, they provided the vocal harmonies on Dean’s version. After the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, the song was adapted into the "Honvágy-dal" ('The Song of Homesickness”) and used as an unofficial anthem for refugees scattered around the world. Recorded by Ida Boros, it became a cultural phenomenon and a sign of protest against the communist government. The standard English version has been covered countless times (notably by Little Richard, Johnny Cash, and Cliff Richard & The Shadows), and here’s how I do it in my assisted living home set. Meanwhile, HB Dino—thank you for the hours of humor and song you left us.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4VEVSBXaP4

#deanmartin #ratpack #deanamartin #davyjones #monkees #jerrylewis #lewisandmartin #comedy #entertainment #memories #johnnyjblair #singeratlarge #sanfrancisco #birthday

[rosen01]

Dean and Deana Martin; Frank and Tina Sinatra

[annoyinglyperfectartisan]

Dean and Jeanne Martin

[jerrylewis-thekid]

They slept together as husband and wife. If you don't know someone (even) like this what else?

“Despite their many differences, I sometimes think Jerry knew Dad better than anyone else in the world.”

- Deana Martin

[good-evening-mr-kaplan]

Here is Deana Martin singing My Favorite Things from The Sound Of Music on her Live Show today (12/23/22). 

and here is her album version from her Christmas album White Christmas (apparently she’s one of those people that thinks its a Christmas song..sighs lol its ok she gets a pass cuz she’s Dino’s daughter): 

[jerrylewis-thekid]

The sadness. No posts about "Martin & Lewis Day" on Deana Martin's Facebook page, no posts on her personal account, no posts on Dean Martin's official account (run with Martin Family Trust). And I really think that the cancellation of the period with Jerry, or rather erasing Jerry from Dino Crocetti's life, no, from the life of the star Dean Martin, is absolutely intentional. They are absolutely disgraceful.

[freesia-writes]

Kitchen Nostalgia with Tech

[Part 3 of Holiday Fluff with The Bad Batch] Dividers by @ve-ti-ver on this post here Word Count: 1.2k, LOL... Tech is always gonna get me goin. ;) SFW, just some warm and fuzzy stuff that will be a composite master post of Bad Batch sweetness. GN Reader.

“This is ridiculous,” Tech commented, unable to tear his eyes from the TV despite the array of baking materials laid out across the counter. The loud laugh track played over raucous clapping as Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra introduced the next number with playful banter, crew workers pushing fake storefronts and houses across a large sound stage behind them. “It’s entirely fabricated, without any attempt to conceal the fact…”

“They weren’t trying to make it seem real,” you giggled, wanting to squeeze him as he groaned at the sight of an incredibly gaudy Christmas tree, dripping with tinsel, being rolled out next. “It’s just… the aesthetic. It’s a variety show. Television was still new, so people were thrilled to see anything really.”

“This is reasonable, however in our current day and age–”

“It’s just nostalgic. Warm and fuzzy. I can’t explain it,” you interrupted, pulling his arm to invite him to finish rolling out the cookie dough. “It seemed like a simpler time… Pure and sweet somehow…”

“Mafia-affiliated crooners singing Euro-centric holiday songs does not strike me as either pure nor sweet,” Tech commented, 

Ladies and Gentlemen! Frank Sinatra Junior and Dean Martin Junior!

“The same names?” Tech nearly choked. “First their daughters are introduced as singers, now their sons too? I question the authenticity of the organic talent of the offspring versus the undeniable favoritism from production companies due to their parents’ status.”

“Tech,” you breathed, exasperated at his constant commentary, although you couldn’t really blame 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my daughter Deana,” the taller one said. You couldn’t help but start to giggle, hearing Tech’s words in your head before they even left his mouth, and as he spluttered like a fish out of water, the show continued, “And I’d like you to meet my daughter, Tina.”

“The rhyming is just patronizing at this point, and have these performers been evaluated for narcissistic personality disorder? His name is Dean, his son is Dean Junior, and his daughter is Deana?” Tech looked as though he was about to have a conniption, and you couldn’t take anymore. Leaning over him, you grabbed the remote from the counter and switched the screen off, laughing uncontrollably. 

“Okay, okay, it’s all ridiculous,” you confessed, a little indignant at his inability to move past all of the shortcomings. “I just like the old stuff sometimes, alright?” 

“I apologize if my thoughts are preventing you from enjoying your show,” Tech said, although you could tell he was just saying it because he knew he was supposed to. You stuffed down a little grumble and instead turned your thoughts to the task at hand.

“Let’s just finish the cookies,” you said, pulling out your favorite shapes of cookie cutters while he continued to flatten the dough across the counter. You snagged a small piece from the edge, popping it in your mouth and relishing the sweetness with a single, closed-eyed sigh. His face softened a bit, pushing aside the protests about salmonella risks with a reminder of their statistical occurrence. 

The rest of the baking went by with quiet conversation and little brushes against one another, and once the cookies were in the oven, the luscious smell filling the kitchen, it was time for the traditional “waiting drink” – an “adult egg nog”. As you mixed together two mugs and took a long drink from yours, you heard big band music, lifting your head to see Tech turning the television back on, an unmistakable and endearing cringe on his face. 

“You don’t have to–” you began, but he waved his hand, turning toward you with a surprising gentleness on his face. He came back over, accepting your mug and lifting his eyebrows after a cursory sip. 

“I believe I was overly hasty in my judgment,” he said, shocking you deeply at his uncharacteristic admission. Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra were cracking themselves up now, dancing in over-the-top silliness as they sang a medley of their most popular songs in perfect, playful harmony. You took another sip of your holiday drink, warmed to the core and pleasantly fuzzy. 

“It’s alright,” you answered, “It’s not for everyone.”

“But it is for you, and I care about you. Therefore, in a way, it is something I can appreciate as a facet of your personality and interests,” Tech said, taking a step closer. You loved the way he could arrive at wonderfully sweet and romantic conclusions through the process of cold, hard reason. You couldn’t have possibly anticipated his next words, however, as Frank Sinatra began to sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Not usually one for physical touch, he lifted a hand to the outside of your arm, stroking it lightly with a look of resolution on his face as though he’d decided to try something. “Would you like to dance?”

“Dance?!” you blurted out, setting your mug down much harder than you intended. Tech looked concerned.

“It seemed fitting with the–” he explained.

“No, no… I’d love to!” you interrupted, heart warming at the flicker of relief on his typically unfazed face. “I just… didn’t think that was something you’d enjoy.”

“I concur,” he answered matter-of-factly, and you laughed again, a tingle washing over you as he slowly nestled one strong, steady arm beneath your own and rested his hand between your shoulder blades, scooping you into a very rigid and structurally perfect ballroom frame. He took your other hand in his, pulling you into the first step with an impressive blend of strength and grace, and began to step slowly in time to the music. 

From now on, our troubles will be miles away… Here we are, as in olden days… Happy golden days of yore…

Buoyed by the warmth of the egg nog and brandy, intoxicated by Tech’s closeness and quiet intimacy, you closed your eyes in utter bliss, guided by his firm leading as you swayed slowly around the kitchen. You didn’t know what had possessed him to try something so uncharacteristic, but you weren’t about to start asking questions. 

Through the years, we all will be together…If the fates allow…Hang a shining star upon the highest bough…

You didn’t think it could get any better, but as the song went on, his arm suddenly lowered, the rigid frame that kept you at bay replaced instead with a more snug embrace as he pulled you in against his chest, still clasping your hand in his own but resting it against his shoulder. You nuzzled in, savoring every touch and movement as he leaned his cheek against the top of your head. Holding him as closely as possible, your arm tucked lovingly around his waist, you inhaled deeply, his scent mingling with the baking cookies, and you thought you might burst with joy. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your hair, deeply gratified by the overwhelming success of his endeavor. He was trying something new, channeling his focus to the senses. The feeling of your body fitted along his own, the slight chill in your fingertips, your steady breathing... He was surprised at the warmth it conjured.

Perhaps he would investigate further.

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[fredandginger64]

Jerry and Dean's daughter Deana.

[gatutor]

Deana Martin (New York, 19/08/1948).