Frank Sinatra

With "Touch My Body" topping Billboard's Hot 100 as of Wednesday, Mariah Carey's career total of No. 1 singles has hit 18, one more than Elvis Presley. You'd think Western civilization had collapsed overnight. My advice? Get over it. I grew up loving Presley's music. I was born the same year he first set foot in Sam Phillips' Sun studio in Memphis, Tenn., and my first memory of music is that of a teenage neighbor belting out "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog!" in 1956, when I was 3. But this brouhaha?

Tomorrow, Peggy Santiglia Davison will drive to Washington and, not for the first time, watch a lithe young actress in the production of "The Jersey Boys" pretending to be her. Chances are, it will be a joyful experience, though not an entirely comfortable one. Davison, now 65 and a resident of Carroll County, was one of the Angels, the three-member girl group that enjoyed stratospheric popularity for a few years in the early 1960s. The Angels toured the world. They performed on "The Ed Sullivan Show."

Remember how some people went bonkers last week to get 3-cent stamps to go with their leftover 29-cent stamps to meet the new 32-cent price for first-class postage? Long lines were reported all over. Now I hear that people bought so many sheets of 3-cent stamps they're back this week looking for more 29s.Jake's brainchildI'm getting some good buzz from musicheads in the Annapolis-College Park-Baltimore triangle about WRNR-FM (103.1), the progressive free-form rock station that is the brainchild of Jake Einstein, at 77 "the oldest hippie in America" and the man who enjoyed the status of radio cult god as creator of the old WHFS.

A little bit of Italy rolled through downtown Baltimore yesterday as the city celebrated its 114th consecutive Columbus Day parade with the steady beat of marching bands, floating restaurants, fancy cars and perfect weather. Savoring brilliant sunshine and summerlike temperatures, spectators by the hundreds cheered and clapped as nearly 90 groups walked, marched or drove in the procession from the Washington Monument in Mount Vernon to Central Avenue in Little Italy. "This is the best day we've had in years," said Thomas J. Iacoboni, organizer of the parade culminating several Columbus-themed events that began weeks ago. "The idea is to get people to Little Italy."

The national touring production of "Come Fly Away," Twyla Tharp's sensual ballet/musical set to the songs of Frank Sinatra, breezes through Baltimore this week. One of the featured dancers in the show will look very much at home on the stage of the Modell Performing Arts Center at the Lyric. Ashley Blair Fitzgerald, who grew up in Ellicott City, had only recently left home when she first danced in that theater nine years ago, appearing in the tour of "Fosse," a showcase of Bob Fosse's choreography.

This is not an obituary for the Merriweather Post Pavilion. Columbia's woodsy amphitheater - host to every major act (well, not Springsteen or the Stones) - ends its season today with an Incubus concert. We refuse to allow Merriweather to end on that note. The Rouse Co. wants to sell the 37-year-old venue to Howard County as an enclosed theater. Merriweather's management wants the pavilion to remain an open-air venue, and has a contract allowing it to book acts for one more season. But after that, the pavilion's future is up in the air. Its past, however, is rock solid.

Happy 80th birthday, Mr. Sinatra.* "Saved by the Light" (8 p.m.-10 p.m., WBFF, Channel 45) -- Once a young actor of considerable promise, now known primarily as Julia Roberts' older brother, Eric Roberts stars in this story of a disagreeable sort who changes his ways after being struck by lightning and spending 30 minutes clinically dead. In films from "Star 80" to "Runaway Train" to "The Coca-Cola Kid," Mr. Roberts has almost invariably played two characters, either a dangerous creepazoid only one step above pond scum or a guy who attended one too many acting classes.

It was once my privilege to be challenged to a public duel by Frank Sinatra.He was upset because I questioned the wasteful assignment of several Chicago cops to guard his hotel suite while he performed this city.In doing so, I made a fleeting reference to what appeared to be his splendid hairpiece.Angered by the suggestion that his tresses had been purchased, he sent a lunk over with a letter in which he called me a pimp and offered to let me pull his hair.The deal was, if the hair moved, he would pay me a large sum of money.

What does it mean to speak of Frank Sinatra these days?Merely utter the name, and a host of conflicting images crowd in, each one vying with the others to define who the man is. Is he Frankie, the skinny young crooner who drove the bobby-soxers wild? Is he Ol' Blue Eyes, the eternal saloon singer forever awaiting the wee small hours of the morning? Or is he the Chairman of the Board, the self-made music mogul and undisputed ruler of American popular song?To the romantic, he's the essence of a love affair, a man who understands the glory of new love and the agony of heartbreak, and sings about both with a voice smooth as whiskey and just as intoxicating.

THE CALENDAR says it's a January weekend in 2002, but inside Giovanni's in Edgewood, things are swingin', baby, and Ike is still the president. Up on the tiny dance floor, with cigarette smoke curling to the ceiling and a bottle of Jack Daniel's resting on a nearby stool, Mickey Light grips a microphone and summons the spirit of Frank Sinatra once more. Oh, he's got it all down: the finger-snapping, the tough-guy swagger, the way he shoots the cuffs on his tux, the Rat Pack patter about booze and broads and breaking legs.