I’m gonna live till I die! I’m gonna laugh ‘stead of cry,

I’m gonna take the town and turn it upside down,

I’m gonna live, live, live until I die.

They’re gonna say “What a guy!” I’m gonna play for the sky.

—Lyrics from Frank Sinatra “I’m Gonna Live Till I Die”

Sunday I turn 68.

If I can offer one bit of advice — not that anyone will heed it — is to listen to Frank Sinatra songs from time-to-time.

As a whole they tend to be a users’ guide of sorts to life.

The reasons are obvious for “My Way” and “That’s Life” as well as “I’m Gonna Live Till I Die.”

And can you find a melody or words as lovely about love than “The Summer Wind”, “It Was a Very Good Year”, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” or even “Strangers in the Night”?

Ol’ Blue Eyes doesn’t glorify violence, play to the lowest common denominator, or encourage people to wallow in despair. He sang about low points — no doubt about it. And the Chairman of the Board wasn’t a choir boy. He was human. And since he was a man. he was far from perfect.

Whether he intended so or not, his songs offer sage advice for living as well as navigating the low points.

So outside of the fact I’m carbon dating myself by sharing my taste in music — I also happen to like Garth Brooks and the Rolling Stones — why mention Sinatra who would be 109 years old if he were alive today on my birthday?

When I was in my 20s, my best friend at the time — Jack Vaughn — got me hooked on Sinatra. The more I listened, the more Sinatra music I sought out.

I was 29 when I came across the gem that is “I’m Gonna Live Till I Die.”

At first, it struck me as a nonsensical name for a song. Of course you are going to live until you die.

But after the first time I heard the song the flickering light in my head turned into a movie premiere searchlight. Just living and taking a “woe is me” approach to simply coast until the bill comes due for being born is a gigantic waste.

I’m not talking about being rich, finding a cure for cancer, or some material measurement.

I’m talking about being happy.

It’s not that my life was miserable at 29 or that I was a true introvert. Far from it.

But like many people, I always found convenient excuses not to try new things and to assume there was nothing I could do to change my course.

It was a convenient excuse to stay in a semi-cocoon.

 This may strike some who knew me in my teens and 20s as a bit nutso as I was doing things that most people my age wouldn’t be doing. That included working as a part-time reporter in high school covering city council meetings and high school sports, or getting elected to a school board when I was 19.

If I had my “act” together, you could have fooled me.

The things I was doing were definitely in my comfort zone.

The big issue in my life was my weight — all 320 pounds of it — and all of the baggage that it can bring with it ranging from body image issues and health to limiting physical activities.

To be honest, the body image thing had gotten to the point where I was able to deal with it because it wasn’t a happiness issue with me as much as it was with others who couldn’t resist trying to make me feel bad.

The person with the problem is someone who tries to find happiness in trying to make others miserable. And I will admit even after years of being at 175 pounds I will always view myself as fat but not to the obsessed point of lapsing into dark territories where those that are anorexic go.

It’s a good thing as it reminds me constantly of what I don’t want to slip back into as once you abuse food — just like those that abuse alcohol — you are always a recovering addict.

Before hearing “I’m Gonna Live Until I Die” — which happened to be on my 29th birthday — I had kind of decided to try and do something about my weight.

The song hit me like a bolt of lightning.

If you have ever heard the melody, it would fit in nicely with a cardio blast class routine with extra jumping tossed in for good measure.

The point of living is living, right? It’s not just existing. Flies exist. Humans are meant to live.

So, what — I thought to myself — would I be thinking on my 60th birthday? I had eschewed intense physical activity years prior because it was abundantly clear I was a klutz.

The song made me grasp the fact I’d never find out what I was capable of doing if I squandered my limited time on earth by not trying.

So then and there I resolved to lose 100 pounds in 365 days. A year and 130 pounds later, I started bicycling, running, and hiking to places I’d never dreamed of.

Along the way I’ve managed to overpower things that “experts” insisted should stop me, slow me down or require a pill to counter.

It’s never too late unless, of course, you are dead. Or as Frank sang it best:

Before my number’s up,

I’m gonna fill my cup,

I’m gonna live, live, live, until I die!

This column is the opinion of editor, Dennis Wyatt, and does not necessarily represent the opinions of The Bulletin or 209 Multimedia. He can be reached at dwyatt@mantecabulletin.com