Rant #2,470: Lemon Tree

Another victim of the coronavirus died the other day, and while his demise was equally as tragic as all of the thousands of deaths caused by this scourge that we are fighting, this one hit me a little harder than others did.

Trini Lopez left us at age 83, and he left a legacy of music, movies, the Rat Pack and a lot of laughter behind him.

Let's first talk about the stuff that you can look up anywhere online or at Wikipedia.

Taking the baton from Ritchie Valens, his music was a combination of pop, folk, rock and Mexican ethnic music with a somewhat danceable beat.

He had hits with songs like "If I Had a Hammer" and "Lemon Tree," but he actually charted 13 songs on the Billboard Hot 100, from 1963 to 1968, the period when he became one of the hottest acts in America.

He was ubiquitous in night clubs and on every television show imaginable, performed in numerous commercials, including helping to launch the Fresca soft drink, and he was featured in a few major films, including "The Dirty Dozen."

And he somehow found himself to be a sort of part-time member of the legendary Rat Pack, the group including Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr., which caroused its way through Las Vegas in the 1960s.

Baby boomers might remember that Lopez was part of Sinatra's entourage that almost demanded to be on the then-hot "Soupy Sales Show" and be pummeled with whip cream pies. Sinatra loved the show, and Lopez went along for this hilarious ride.

The Mexican-American singer continued to record well into the succeeding decades, and he also was a guitar designer, with his models becoming sought-after collectors' items among musicians.

He recorded nearly three dozen albums through 2011 in all different styles, everything from straight ethnic to pop to bubblegum--he picked up on the Monkees's successful vibe with his 1969 LP "The Whole Enchilada," produced by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, who not only had their own successful recording career, but also were the musical backbone of the Monkees project.

Lopez had an extremely successful career, but it is his 1991 album "The 25th Anniversary Album" that brings me my most vivid memory of Lopez.

I was working as a freelance writer for a local entertainment publication, and I had a phone interview set up with Lopez.

The time came, I made the call, and let me tell you, I was very pleasantly surprised.

Lopez was really into the interview, knew my name and called me by my name (a real rarity in celebrity interviews, I learned), and was so exuberant and had so much energy that it was as if he was bursting the phone lines with every syllable he uttered.

I hadn't even heard the album--a compendium of music from his career up to that point--and he promised to send me a copy, which he did, autographed to my mother, who we had spoken about during the interview (I don't know how we got onto that topic, but ...). I am sure my mom still has it somewhere in her collection of stuff.

Anyway, that appeared to be Trini Lopez. Every time you saw him on television, you appeared to get the real deal: no phoniness, no ego boosting, just honest to goodness talent and the real deal all around.

He knew who he was, he knew his place in the entertainment business, and he appeared to be a really nice guy.

I will always remember that interview, because it was like I was speaking on the phone to a friend that I hadn't spoken to in a while.

It was just so much fun, and through all the celebrity interviews I have done over those years at that publication, it was definitely up there as being the most fun.

The world will miss Trini Lopez.

I know that I will.