Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and
                    Frank Sinatra

Dino Paul Crocetti was born on June 17, 1917 in Steubenville, Ohio; the son of an immigrant barber, he
spoke only Italian until the age of five, and at school was the target of much ridicule for his broken
English. He ultimately quit school at the age of 16, going to work in the steel mills; as a boxer named
Kid Crochet, he also fought a handful of amateur bouts, and later delivered bootleg liquor. After landing
a job as a croupier in a local speakeasy, he made his first connections with the underworld, bringing him
into contact with club owners all over the Midwest; initially rechristening himself Dean Martini, he had
a nose job and set out to become a crooner, modeling himself after his acknowledged idol, Bing Crosby.
Hired by bandleader Sammy Watkins, he dropped the second "i" from his stage name and eventually enjoyed
minor success on the New York club circuit, winning over audiences with his loose, mellow vocal style.

The Rat Pack is the nickname given to a group of popular entertainers most active between the mid-1950s
and mid-1960s. Its most famous line-up featured Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Peter
Lawford and Joey Bishop, who appeared together in films and on stage in the early-1960s.[1] Despite its
reputation as a masculine group, the Rat Pack did have female participants, including movie icons Shirley
MacLaine, Lauren Bacall, and Judy Garland.

Enjoying great success in music, film, television and the stage, Dean Martin was less an entertainer than
an icon, the eternal essence of cool. A member of the legendary Rat Pack, he lived and died the high life
of booze, broads and bright lights, always projecting a sense of utter detachment and serenity; along with
Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr. and the other chosen few who breathed the same rarefied air, Martin
highball and cigarette always firmly in hand embodied the glorious excess of a world long gone, a world
without rules or consequences. Throughout it all, he remained just outside the radar of understanding, the
most distant star in the firmament; as his biographer Nick Tosches once noted, Martin was what the
Italians called a menefreghista "one who simply does not give a f."