Frank Sinatra would have been 94 today – the most famous name in show business, check that, the world.

Sinatra the singer, the man, was who he was because he connected with us on gut levels – like smoking, drinking and pining the lone hours over some dame who just tossed him under a bus. Only in real life that wasn’t the case, except maybe with Ava Gardner, and I could never figure that one out.

Nobody dumped Frank, you see, because they all wanted to hang on to him and join the party, which, you gather was just about every night. Steve McQueen was cool, but Frank was cooler. He could wear tuxedoes like no one and must have had every dame in Hollywood at one time or another. Maybe hundreds of ‘em. Thousands.

Frank hung around with the Kennedys and passed Marilyn Monroe along to them like some party favor. To the extent of dames, Frank was never one to let marriage get in the way of his social life and could have given lots of valuable tips to Tiger Woods. Maybe even bitch slap some sense into him because that’s what Tiger needs.

For one thing, we let Frank get away with it. We never hassled him over silly details, like all those “chicks” [another great part of the Sinatra vernacular]. In fact, Frank was known for casting his trollops in his films- as background eye candy. It was always in-your-face Sinatra style. You butted heads with Frank, you got punched in the face. Or he’d have Jilly or Shecky do it. Last time I checked, Tiger has no entourage with a Jelly, Shecky or Dino.

Though I think Tiger Woods in some ways is trying to be like Frank, but just can’t pull it off. Tiger’s a dork- a dork and a dumb jock trying to be cool. Unfortunately, Tiger never got tuxedo lessons. Tiger hangs out in Vegas only Sinatra owned Vegas. [Frank paying to get into the AVN Awards show? Quite unlikely.] Worse yet, Tiger will never sport a Palm Springs tan [well, for different reasons].

Tiger nails porn chicks and pancake waitresses whereas Sinatra nailed real honest-to-gosh stars. Tiger deserves what he’s getting because his dorky tastes are crass, menial and the pursuit of them was conducted in the uncoolest of ways. Whereas Frank maybe had a cocktail waitress or two in his time, but we’ll never know, or would care to, for that matter. Because if you got too close on the subject Frank would punch you in the face – then donate to a charity in your name.

And another thing – more importantly- Tiger will be long gone and forgotten by the time his 94th birthday rolls around. Because no one’s playing his records, and no one’s sipping bourbon and sulking in a haze of 3 am smoke over a missed putt.