History's Great Drunks: Dean Martin
(This is one of a series of “History’s Great Drunks” portraits I wrote for Robb Report a couple of years ago. I wrote a bunch of them before editorial shakeups put the kibosh on the whole thing. I don’t remember if any of them ran or not; you’ll eventually see them all here regardless.)
With his dark good looks, mellifluous voice, hilarious one-liners, and ever-present rocks glass, Dean Martin was a walking, talking, singing advertisement for getting soused. Dino was a one-man cocktail party who invited all of America to pour a stiff one and join in the fun. And during his ‘50s and ‘60s heyday, it seemed like everyone did.
Some said it was really apple juice he was sipping onstage. Others begged to differ, including his singing and drinking buddy Frank Sinatra, who said, “If there’s ever an Olympic drinking team, Dean’s gonna be the coach.” But how much Dean Martin actually drank is beside the point. He always seemed bombed, and that was all that mattered.
Born Dino Crocetti in 1917, Martin got his start in the mid ‘40s as the straight man for Jerry Lewis. By the time they broke up in 1956, they were far and away the most popular comedy act in the country. After the split, Dean became, among many other things, America’s most beloved boozehound. He was never that interested in actually singing during his loose, haphazard Vegas performances or on his TV variety show, preferring to extol the virtues of drinking and drunkenness — while knocking back a few himself, of course. “I don’t drink anymore,” he’d say, “I freeze it now, and eat it like a popsicle.”
“You’re not really drunk if you can lay on the floor without holding on.”
“I feel sorry for people who don’t drink, because when you wake up in the morning, that’s as good as you’re gonna feel all day.”
All said with a jovial, don’t-give-a-damn attitude that implied, I’m happy to see you, but I wouldn’t really care if you weren’t here, as long as my glass is filled and I’ve got time for 18 holes tomorrow.
Dino was one of the top draws in Las Vegas for decades, a film star well into the ‘70s, and a TV star even after The Dean Martin Show ended its eight-season run in 1973 (who can forget Dean Martin’s Celebrity Roasts?) Sinatra went down in history as the greater vocal artist; Dean’s records haven’t aged nearly as well. But no less a legend than Elvis Presley claimed him as a vocal influence. And as for his drinking, a generation of inebriated game show panelists and talk show guests owe him a debt of gratitude. Getting tipsy has always been one of the perks of adulthood, but nobody before or since ever made it look so cool.