I’m no defender of Frank Sinatra. The guy certainly was a putz. All the same I could imagine him thinking he was helping Michael. Advice always tells us more about the giver than the target. This mishmash of “count your blessings,” “smell the roses,” and locker-room pep talk is what you’d expect from a guy who fought his way to the top, then fought to milk his success for all he could. Sinatra knew nothing about Michael; his advice amounts to, “Hey, kid, here’s how you’d do it if you were me.” Offering such advice in public was of course stupendously insensitive, but like we said, the guy was a putz.
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