The Soundtrack to my Life

Since I was little I've wanted to live in a film. A film, either black and white or glorious technicolor, possibly musical, possibly not and I would be a very glamorous person, brittle but vulnerable, probably slightly tortured. Nothing too awful: mild heartbreak maybe, unrequited love, maybe getting over the death of a faithful pet. A horse. Anyway, I would obviously be immaculately dressed at all times and have a good line in snappy one-liners delivered in a wry drawl.
The point I'm getting round to is that in this film-that-is-my-life type thing there will clearly have to be a soundtrack.  I picked my soundtrack early on in my life and it remains something I listen to when I am in a nostalgic or romantic mood; then I can imagine that my mundane life is slightly more soft focus than it is. This is my soundtrack:

It's wonderful; the title says everything you need to know.  Jackie Gleason's romantic string arrangements of beautiful songs with the sublime sound of Bobby Hackett's trumpet soaring overhead.  It's music to fall in love to, music to fill your head while you gaze into the eyes of a new lover.   And look at that cover! That's me there, drinking a stiff martini and looking wistful - any minute now a handsome stranger is going to rock up and offer me a cigarette from a silver case, light it for me, then after saying something devastating he'll whisk me off to........ Actually I don't know where- I haven't quite worked that bit out.  I expect it will involve dancing and cocktails and end with a diaphanous negligée robe type thing and the kind of slippers that have heels and feathers. 

Anyway, listening to this album makes my whole life more glamorous. Even when I'm dusting, or picking up bits of Lego from under the sofa. And that's saying something.