What: “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning” by Frank Sinatra
Who: Lonely broken-hearted folks. Think Frank getting over Ava.
When: Right before last call or driving around a sleeping city (sober!) at 3 a.m.
Where: Best if you’re sitting on a bar stool at your local dive bar (I like the Lost & Found and I think they might have this in their jukebox) with your head in your hands, feeling sorry for yourself and there’s no one else around except you and the kindly bartender…and a smattering of passed-0ut barflies.
Why: Usually Frankie’s version of any song is the most upbeat and positive rendition you can get. But with this song, he’s uncharacteristically morose, perfect for when you just need to wallow in your own misery to get it out of your system. And then the next morning, you’re all better. Hopefully.